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The Mountains Sing
With the epic sweep of Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko or Yaa Gyasi’s Homegoing and the lyrical beauty of Vaddey Ratner’s In the Shadow of the Banyan, The Mountains Sing tells an enveloping, multigenerational tale of the Trần family, set against the backdrop of the Việt Nam War. Trần Diệu Lan, who was born in 1920, was forced to flee her family farm with her six children during the Land Reform as the Communist government rose in the North. Years later in Hà Nội, her young granddaughter, Hương, comes of age as her parents and uncles head off down the Hồ Chí Minh Trail to fight in a conflict that tore apart not just her beloved country, but also her family.
Vivid, gripping, and steeped in the language and traditions of Việt Nam, The Mountains Sing brings to life the human costs of this conflict from the point of view of the Vietnamese people themselves, while showing us the true power of kindness and hope.
Vivid, gripping, and steeped in the language and traditions of Việt Nam, The Mountains Sing brings to life the human costs of this conflict from the point of view of the Vietnamese people themselves, while showing us the true power of kindness and hope.
352 pages, Hardcover
First published March 17, 2020
About the author
Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai
14 books2,047 followersBorn and raised in Việt Nam, Dr. Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai is the author of the international bestseller The Mountains Sing, runner-up for the 2021 Dayton Literary Peace Prize, winner of the 2020 BookBrowse Best Debut Award, the 2021 International Book Awards, the 2021 PEN Oakland/Josephine Miles Literary Award, and the 2020 Lannan Literary Award Fellowship for Fiction. She has published twelve books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction in Vietnamese and English and has received some of the top literary prizes in Việt Nam including the Poetry of the Year 2010 from the Hà Nội Writers Association. Her writing has been translated into twenty languages and has appeared in major publications including the New York Times. She has a PhD in Creative Writing from Lancaster University. She was named by Forbes Vietnam as one of 20 inspiring women of 2021. Her second novel in English, Dust Child, is forthcoming in March 2023.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 6,583 reviews
November 3, 2020
Dear Readers,
It took me seven years, hundreds of revisions, many sleepless nights, tears... and finally THE MOUNTAINS SING is here. I am so thankful to you - my precious Readers - for the gift of your time: time that you have spent or will spend with the Trần family in my novel.
Grandma Diệu Lan in THE MOUNTAINS SING is the grandmother I always wished for. Both my grandmothers had died before my birth and I wanted to have a grandma who would sing me lullabies, tell me the legends and tales of my village, as well as teach me what I needed to know about my family's history. Now, holding THE MOUNTAINS SING in my hands, I feel that I truly have a grandma. Thank you for sharing this joy with me!
Hương embodies my own experiences growing up in Vietnam and witnessing the war's devastating effect. But more than that, she represents a generation of Vietnamese who have no choice but to inherit the trauma of war brought home by returning soldiers.
While this novel embraces some of my family's stories, I interviewed hundreds of people and fictionalised their stories into THE MOUNTAINS SING. I read hundreds of fiction and non-fiction books about Vietnam which helped me gain a deep understanding of our turbulent history.
While I have published eight books of fiction, poetry and non-fiction in the Vietnamese language, I consider THE MOUNTAINS SING my most comprehensive work to date. It is my desperate call for peace and for humans to love other human beings more. I echo my call in the form of this novel, because as in the words of Hương: “Somehow I was sure that if people were willing to read each other, and see the light of other cultures, there would be no war on earth.”
I hope that the diacritical marks that accompany the Vietnamese names and words in THE MOUNTAINS SING don't interfere with your reading experiences. Those marks might look strange at first but they are as important as the roof of a home. The word “ma,” for example, can be written as ma, má, mà, mả, mạ, mã; each meaning very different things: ghost, mother, but, grave, young rice plant, horse. The word “bo” can become bó, bỏ, bọ, bơ, bở, bờ, bô, bố, bồ, bổ (bunch, abandon, insect, butter, mushy, shore, chamberpot, father, mistress, nutritious). By reading THE MOUNTAINS SING, you already show your acceptance and appreciation of my mother tongue's beauty and complexity. Thank you!
I did not have a chance to learn English until the 8th grade, so penning this epic account of Vietnam’s 20th century history in English felt like climbing a tall mountain barefoot. But I climbed with my pen in one hand and my Vietnamese-English dictionary in another. I climbed while reading English novels voraciously, learning new words every day so that these words would enter the realm of my unconsciousness.
In addition to language, I had to overcome many obstacles to be able to write this story, including fear of censorship. I am thankful to you, my Readers, for being there with me on this challenging journey as a writer.
I can't wait to hear your feedback. Please consider subscribing to my newsletter which I write occasionally to my valuable readers with my most important literary news including news of my next book: http://tinyletter.com/nguyenphanquemai
if you are on social media, please connect with me. Please take good care during the time of the coronavirus pandemic and stay safe.
With heartfelt thanks and warmest wishes,
Quế Mai
--
Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai
Website: nguyenphanquemai.com
Instagram: www.instagram.com/nguyenphanquemai_/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/nguyen_p_quemai
Facebook: www.facebook.com/quemai.nguyenphan/
It took me seven years, hundreds of revisions, many sleepless nights, tears... and finally THE MOUNTAINS SING is here. I am so thankful to you - my precious Readers - for the gift of your time: time that you have spent or will spend with the Trần family in my novel.
Grandma Diệu Lan in THE MOUNTAINS SING is the grandmother I always wished for. Both my grandmothers had died before my birth and I wanted to have a grandma who would sing me lullabies, tell me the legends and tales of my village, as well as teach me what I needed to know about my family's history. Now, holding THE MOUNTAINS SING in my hands, I feel that I truly have a grandma. Thank you for sharing this joy with me!
Hương embodies my own experiences growing up in Vietnam and witnessing the war's devastating effect. But more than that, she represents a generation of Vietnamese who have no choice but to inherit the trauma of war brought home by returning soldiers.
While this novel embraces some of my family's stories, I interviewed hundreds of people and fictionalised their stories into THE MOUNTAINS SING. I read hundreds of fiction and non-fiction books about Vietnam which helped me gain a deep understanding of our turbulent history.
While I have published eight books of fiction, poetry and non-fiction in the Vietnamese language, I consider THE MOUNTAINS SING my most comprehensive work to date. It is my desperate call for peace and for humans to love other human beings more. I echo my call in the form of this novel, because as in the words of Hương: “Somehow I was sure that if people were willing to read each other, and see the light of other cultures, there would be no war on earth.”
I hope that the diacritical marks that accompany the Vietnamese names and words in THE MOUNTAINS SING don't interfere with your reading experiences. Those marks might look strange at first but they are as important as the roof of a home. The word “ma,” for example, can be written as ma, má, mà, mả, mạ, mã; each meaning very different things: ghost, mother, but, grave, young rice plant, horse. The word “bo” can become bó, bỏ, bọ, bơ, bở, bờ, bô, bố, bồ, bổ (bunch, abandon, insect, butter, mushy, shore, chamberpot, father, mistress, nutritious). By reading THE MOUNTAINS SING, you already show your acceptance and appreciation of my mother tongue's beauty and complexity. Thank you!
I did not have a chance to learn English until the 8th grade, so penning this epic account of Vietnam’s 20th century history in English felt like climbing a tall mountain barefoot. But I climbed with my pen in one hand and my Vietnamese-English dictionary in another. I climbed while reading English novels voraciously, learning new words every day so that these words would enter the realm of my unconsciousness.
In addition to language, I had to overcome many obstacles to be able to write this story, including fear of censorship. I am thankful to you, my Readers, for being there with me on this challenging journey as a writer.
I can't wait to hear your feedback. Please consider subscribing to my newsletter which I write occasionally to my valuable readers with my most important literary news including news of my next book: http://tinyletter.com/nguyenphanquemai
if you are on social media, please connect with me. Please take good care during the time of the coronavirus pandemic and stay safe.
With heartfelt thanks and warmest wishes,
Quế Mai
--
Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai
Website: nguyenphanquemai.com
Instagram: www.instagram.com/nguyenphanquemai_/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/nguyen_p_quemai
Facebook: www.facebook.com/quemai.nguyenphan/
April 6, 2020
This is a beautifully written story, but not an one easy to read. It’s a brutal portrayal of hardship, hunger, death, a history of the people of Vietnam spanning decades. But in spite of the fact that this is a history filled with the anguish of war, of hunger, of a changing society, it is filled with hope and love and pride of a people, in the beauty of their land as well as their customs and beliefs. The Vietnam War, remembered by many of us of a certain age with the focus on the loss of American soldiers, on those held as POW’s. I don’t remember a big focus on the people of Vietnam who suffered the ravages of war, loss of home and family or their history before all of that . This novel is about some of those people, their story seen through the eyes of a young girl and her grandmother spanning from 1920 - 1970’s, of this family, spanning the generations with the commonality of the depth of love that begs protecting those they loved at all cost. It is through the intimate story in this novel, of this family that this history is depicted bringing to life not just the facts or the events such as the the Great Hunger, Land Reform, and the War, but, the impact on the people. It’s a dual narrative with with young Guava and her grandmother Tran Dieu Lan, reflecting the power of stories, experience and family connections to the past.
“As the war continued, it was Grandma’s stories that kept me going and my hopes alive.”
“Do you understand why I’ve decided to tell you about our family? If our stories survive, we will not die, even when our bodies are no longer here on earth.”
I received a copy of this book from Algonquin Books through NetGalley and a many thanks to Nguyen Pham Que Mai for the paper copy sent from Algonquin.
“As the war continued, it was Grandma’s stories that kept me going and my hopes alive.”
“Do you understand why I’ve decided to tell you about our family? If our stories survive, we will not die, even when our bodies are no longer here on earth.”
I received a copy of this book from Algonquin Books through NetGalley and a many thanks to Nguyen Pham Que Mai for the paper copy sent from Algonquin.
January 25, 2020
“That night and for the next many nights, to dry my tears, Grandma opened the door of her childhood to me. Her stories scooped me up and delivered me to the hilltop of Nghe An where I could fill my lungs with the fragrance of rice fields, sink my eyes into the Lam River, and become a green dot on the Truong Son mountain range. In her stories, I tasted the sweetness of sim berries on my tongue, felt grasshoppers kicking in my hands, and slept in a hammock under a sky woven by shimmering stars…I was astonished when Grandma told me how her life had been cursed by a fortune-teller’s prediction, and how she had survived the French occupation, the Japanese invasion, the Great Hunger, and the Land Reform…”
- Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai, The Mountains Sing
There was a time growing up where I was obsessed with the Vietnam War novel. I consumed these mass-market actioners with an insatiable appetite, but there was always another to replace the one I’d just read.
Now, all these books, titles, and authors tend to run together in my memory. Partially this is due to the passage of years. Partially, though, it is because most of them shared the same template, the same basic platoon-based premise: a small group of archetypes and clichés (the point-man with a mystical connection to the jungle; the dope-smoking draftee; the gruff sergeant; the callow All-American who must sacrifice his ideals to reality) must go on a mission (a long-range reconnaissance or search-and-destroy) and either come together or die.
While not groundbreaking, these books could be extremely effective, even powerful. All of them, however, shared the same viewpoint. Written by American authors, many of them veterans of the United States Armed Forces, these were American stories. The names, faces, and lives at the other end of the M-16 – or living beneath the bomb bay doors of a Stratofortress – were seldom provided. Indeed, there was barely a hint that such information was necessary.
Being an American who fed on these American stories, it is perhaps not surprising that when I think of the Vietnam War, I think of it first and foremost as an American tragedy. If you say Vietnam, the first things that come to mind are that somber black wall in Washington; the political fracturing; the social unrest.
That is why I think that Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai’s The Mountains Sing is an important book.
The Mountains Sing is Quế Mai’s first English-language novel. Born in Vietnam in 1973, she draws upon the experiences of her family, friends, and neighbors to present a perspective that seldom appears in American fiction: that of the North Vietnamese. Covering four generations, and stretching from the 1930s to the present-day (in a brief epilogue), The Mountains Sing is a panoramic look at the calamity, heartbreak, and perseverance of a people whose existence has been marked by invasion, occupation, and upheaval.
Quế Mai tells her story utilizing two protagonists and two overlapping timelines. The first protagonist is Trấn Diệu Lan (the Grandma), who was born in 1920 into a successful farming family. The other is Hủỏng (the Granddaughter), who grows up during the Vietnam-American War, with both her parents away (her father as a soldier; her mother as a doctor). Both individual timelines move forward chronologically; however, the timelines themselves alternate, so that in one chapter there will be a scene with Trấn Diệu Lan as a young girl, while in the next chapter Trấn Diệu Lan may be an old woman. The scenes set pre-1970 are told in the first-person by the Grandma, while the scenes set after 1970 are told in the first-person by the Granddaughter. This can be confusing – as I will touch on below – but most of the chapter breaks helpfully provide the date and place.
I do not intend to reduce the history of Vietnam to the catastrophes that have befallen her, but I think it is fair to say that she has suffered at the hands of outsiders looking to exploit her. To that end, Quế Mai’s narrative is propelled by the responses of Trấn Diệu Lan, Hủỏng, and the rest of their family to the huge, impersonal forces that threaten to destroy them. There are the French, merciless and condescending colonizers; there are the Japanese, vicious and brutal in expanding their “co-prosperity sphere”; and there are the Americans, dropping bombs and pesticides. While external enemies have obviously taken the greatest toll, Quế Mai is clear-eyed in her presentation, and does not flinch from interrogating the Communist government in North Vietnam. In fact, some of the most wrenching scenes encompass the Communist Land Reform, in which even modestly successful earners could be stripped of their property – or even killed – as capitalist “landlords.”(In her dedication, Quế Mai indicates that her grandfather died because of the Land Reform).
Quế Mai’s prose is simple and descriptive. She is good at introducing you to a world, a culture, of which you might not be familiar. She mixes in Vietnamese words and phrases, introduces you to religious practices and beliefs, and gives you a sense of everyday life. Quế Mai wrote this in English; thus, she understands that for her intended audience, Vietnam and the Vietnamese people seem distant and foreign. Accordingly, she works consistently and effectively to weave everyday detail into her storylines.
The scope of The Mountains Sing is vast, with the earliest chapter taking place in 1930, and the last chapter occurring in 2017, all contained within a relatively short book (my advanced reading copy was 339-pages long). Covering so many decades in so few pages means that there is not a traditional plot or three-act structure. Instead, Quế Mai has her story coalesce around certain big set pieces, many of which are quite impactful. For instance, the sequence set during the Land Reform is chilling, and includes the kind of precise observations that blur the lines between fiction and nonfiction.
If there is a shortcoming, it is in the characterizations, which are rather shallow. Trấn Diệu Lan and Hủỏng are almost the exact same person. When they are speaking to the reader, they sound exactly the same, so that if you open a chapter at random – without looking at the chapter heading – you would not be able to differentiate the two. Similarly, it can be hard to keep the extended family straight, at least until later in the novel, when you have spent significant time with them.
(Frankly, part of this might have been a function of my unfamiliarity with Vietnamese names. Quế Mai makes a sly little joke about this when she has Hủỏng, who is a voracious reader, mention that she cannot remember the author of Treasure Island, because his name is too hard to pronounce).
The uncomplicated characters, the anecdotal nature of the storytelling, and the expositional dialogue gives The Mountains Sing a fable-like quality. While certainly realistic, with bursts of violence and suffering aplenty, this is not intended as a gritty war novel. Rather, it is the journey of a nation as it splits apart and grows together again, symbolized by a family that follows the same path. Quế Mai celebrates simple virtues, such as kindness, hope, and tenacity, but does so with passion and poignancy.
I think I will recall The Mountains Sing in a very particular way. Fiction can do what nonfiction often cannot: it can forge empathy across space and time. Even if I forget the details and plot-points, that message of empathy will remain.
Going forward, I won’t be able to read a book about Vietnam – whether fiction or non – without being reminded of The Mountains Sing. Quế Mai strips away the otherness of the North Vietnamese that permeates so many Western retellings of the war, and replaces a shadowy enemy with individuals brimming with humanity, living lives not unlike our own.
(I received a copy of The Mountains Sing in exchange for an honest review).
- Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai, The Mountains Sing
There was a time growing up where I was obsessed with the Vietnam War novel. I consumed these mass-market actioners with an insatiable appetite, but there was always another to replace the one I’d just read.
Now, all these books, titles, and authors tend to run together in my memory. Partially this is due to the passage of years. Partially, though, it is because most of them shared the same template, the same basic platoon-based premise: a small group of archetypes and clichés (the point-man with a mystical connection to the jungle; the dope-smoking draftee; the gruff sergeant; the callow All-American who must sacrifice his ideals to reality) must go on a mission (a long-range reconnaissance or search-and-destroy) and either come together or die.
While not groundbreaking, these books could be extremely effective, even powerful. All of them, however, shared the same viewpoint. Written by American authors, many of them veterans of the United States Armed Forces, these were American stories. The names, faces, and lives at the other end of the M-16 – or living beneath the bomb bay doors of a Stratofortress – were seldom provided. Indeed, there was barely a hint that such information was necessary.
Being an American who fed on these American stories, it is perhaps not surprising that when I think of the Vietnam War, I think of it first and foremost as an American tragedy. If you say Vietnam, the first things that come to mind are that somber black wall in Washington; the political fracturing; the social unrest.
That is why I think that Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai’s The Mountains Sing is an important book.
The Mountains Sing is Quế Mai’s first English-language novel. Born in Vietnam in 1973, she draws upon the experiences of her family, friends, and neighbors to present a perspective that seldom appears in American fiction: that of the North Vietnamese. Covering four generations, and stretching from the 1930s to the present-day (in a brief epilogue), The Mountains Sing is a panoramic look at the calamity, heartbreak, and perseverance of a people whose existence has been marked by invasion, occupation, and upheaval.
Quế Mai tells her story utilizing two protagonists and two overlapping timelines. The first protagonist is Trấn Diệu Lan (the Grandma), who was born in 1920 into a successful farming family. The other is Hủỏng (the Granddaughter), who grows up during the Vietnam-American War, with both her parents away (her father as a soldier; her mother as a doctor). Both individual timelines move forward chronologically; however, the timelines themselves alternate, so that in one chapter there will be a scene with Trấn Diệu Lan as a young girl, while in the next chapter Trấn Diệu Lan may be an old woman. The scenes set pre-1970 are told in the first-person by the Grandma, while the scenes set after 1970 are told in the first-person by the Granddaughter. This can be confusing – as I will touch on below – but most of the chapter breaks helpfully provide the date and place.
I do not intend to reduce the history of Vietnam to the catastrophes that have befallen her, but I think it is fair to say that she has suffered at the hands of outsiders looking to exploit her. To that end, Quế Mai’s narrative is propelled by the responses of Trấn Diệu Lan, Hủỏng, and the rest of their family to the huge, impersonal forces that threaten to destroy them. There are the French, merciless and condescending colonizers; there are the Japanese, vicious and brutal in expanding their “co-prosperity sphere”; and there are the Americans, dropping bombs and pesticides. While external enemies have obviously taken the greatest toll, Quế Mai is clear-eyed in her presentation, and does not flinch from interrogating the Communist government in North Vietnam. In fact, some of the most wrenching scenes encompass the Communist Land Reform, in which even modestly successful earners could be stripped of their property – or even killed – as capitalist “landlords.”(In her dedication, Quế Mai indicates that her grandfather died because of the Land Reform).
Quế Mai’s prose is simple and descriptive. She is good at introducing you to a world, a culture, of which you might not be familiar. She mixes in Vietnamese words and phrases, introduces you to religious practices and beliefs, and gives you a sense of everyday life. Quế Mai wrote this in English; thus, she understands that for her intended audience, Vietnam and the Vietnamese people seem distant and foreign. Accordingly, she works consistently and effectively to weave everyday detail into her storylines.
The scope of The Mountains Sing is vast, with the earliest chapter taking place in 1930, and the last chapter occurring in 2017, all contained within a relatively short book (my advanced reading copy was 339-pages long). Covering so many decades in so few pages means that there is not a traditional plot or three-act structure. Instead, Quế Mai has her story coalesce around certain big set pieces, many of which are quite impactful. For instance, the sequence set during the Land Reform is chilling, and includes the kind of precise observations that blur the lines between fiction and nonfiction.
If there is a shortcoming, it is in the characterizations, which are rather shallow. Trấn Diệu Lan and Hủỏng are almost the exact same person. When they are speaking to the reader, they sound exactly the same, so that if you open a chapter at random – without looking at the chapter heading – you would not be able to differentiate the two. Similarly, it can be hard to keep the extended family straight, at least until later in the novel, when you have spent significant time with them.
(Frankly, part of this might have been a function of my unfamiliarity with Vietnamese names. Quế Mai makes a sly little joke about this when she has Hủỏng, who is a voracious reader, mention that she cannot remember the author of Treasure Island, because his name is too hard to pronounce).
The uncomplicated characters, the anecdotal nature of the storytelling, and the expositional dialogue gives The Mountains Sing a fable-like quality. While certainly realistic, with bursts of violence and suffering aplenty, this is not intended as a gritty war novel. Rather, it is the journey of a nation as it splits apart and grows together again, symbolized by a family that follows the same path. Quế Mai celebrates simple virtues, such as kindness, hope, and tenacity, but does so with passion and poignancy.
I think I will recall The Mountains Sing in a very particular way. Fiction can do what nonfiction often cannot: it can forge empathy across space and time. Even if I forget the details and plot-points, that message of empathy will remain.
Going forward, I won’t be able to read a book about Vietnam – whether fiction or non – without being reminded of The Mountains Sing. Quế Mai strips away the otherness of the North Vietnamese that permeates so many Western retellings of the war, and replaces a shadowy enemy with individuals brimming with humanity, living lives not unlike our own.
(I received a copy of The Mountains Sing in exchange for an honest review).
March 7, 2020
I loved this book for its earnest and thoughtful rendering of Vietnam and its history. As a second generation Vietnamese American living in the United States, I did not get to learn much about my Vietnamese ancestry in the American education system. The few stories and narratives I was exposed to were often from a white or western perspective, either about a white man’s perspective of the war or an account written by a white person, often both. I want to learn more about my heritage so I am grateful for Nguyen Phan Que Mai for all the effort she put into penning this novel (and shout out to Algonquin Books for providing me with an ARC).
The book includes two timelines, one that follows a young woman named Tran Dieu Lan during the French and Japanese occupations of Vietnam in the mid-twentieth century, and another that follows Dieu Lan’s granddaughter during the Vietnamese War later on in the twentieth century. Several powerful themes emerge throughout The Mountains Sing, including the horrors of war, the often lasting though sometimes tenuous bonds of family, and the transmission of family history through intergenerational narrative. Similar to Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko , the resilience of women in the face of mass destruction stood out as prominent and powerful throughout this family saga. I learned a lot about Vietnam that I somewhat embarrassingly did not know, including the land reform that led to the brutal executions of several landowners. Que Mai puts a human perspective onto these historical events so we can empathize and care about those affected.
My only constructive critique is that the perspectives of Tran Dieu Lan and her granddaughter often felt interchangeable in terms of voice and tone, which sometimes made differentiating between the two or distinctly caring about the two difficult. Still, I’d recommend this book for those interested in learning more about Vietnam’s history and I hope that we can get more narratives about Asia and Vietnam from actual Asian and Vietnamese authors.
The book includes two timelines, one that follows a young woman named Tran Dieu Lan during the French and Japanese occupations of Vietnam in the mid-twentieth century, and another that follows Dieu Lan’s granddaughter during the Vietnamese War later on in the twentieth century. Several powerful themes emerge throughout The Mountains Sing, including the horrors of war, the often lasting though sometimes tenuous bonds of family, and the transmission of family history through intergenerational narrative. Similar to Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko , the resilience of women in the face of mass destruction stood out as prominent and powerful throughout this family saga. I learned a lot about Vietnam that I somewhat embarrassingly did not know, including the land reform that led to the brutal executions of several landowners. Que Mai puts a human perspective onto these historical events so we can empathize and care about those affected.
My only constructive critique is that the perspectives of Tran Dieu Lan and her granddaughter often felt interchangeable in terms of voice and tone, which sometimes made differentiating between the two or distinctly caring about the two difficult. Still, I’d recommend this book for those interested in learning more about Vietnam’s history and I hope that we can get more narratives about Asia and Vietnam from actual Asian and Vietnamese authors.
September 21, 2022
as an american, it was fascinating reading this book.
its told from a northern vietnamese perspective of the countrys history in the 20th century, whereas most western authors probably would have written this from a southerners POV. while i wouldnt say the narrative is anti-US/anti-western, it definitely doesnt hold back condemning US and french involvement, or even that from the southern vietnamese. so i found it interesting to read from a more uncommon viewpoint/side than would be found in western publishing.
but one thing is for sure - war is traumatic and no one is safe from the horrors of it, no matter which side people find themselves.
while the immense difficulties hương and her family members faced over the decades were quite harrowing to read, i really enjoyed her spirit. i found her to be a very compelling character and appreciated her innocent nature. she also had great examples of resilient, strong women she had in her family.
so the great characters and different outlook provide a wonderful learning opportunity for readers.
↠ 4 stars
its told from a northern vietnamese perspective of the countrys history in the 20th century, whereas most western authors probably would have written this from a southerners POV. while i wouldnt say the narrative is anti-US/anti-western, it definitely doesnt hold back condemning US and french involvement, or even that from the southern vietnamese. so i found it interesting to read from a more uncommon viewpoint/side than would be found in western publishing.
but one thing is for sure - war is traumatic and no one is safe from the horrors of it, no matter which side people find themselves.
while the immense difficulties hương and her family members faced over the decades were quite harrowing to read, i really enjoyed her spirit. i found her to be a very compelling character and appreciated her innocent nature. she also had great examples of resilient, strong women she had in her family.
so the great characters and different outlook provide a wonderful learning opportunity for readers.
↠ 4 stars
March 22, 2020
Beautiful! ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️
Have you ever loved a book so much it’s difficult to write about it? That was The Mountains Sing for me. This one has been compared to Homegoing (I LOVED!) and Pachinko (I’ve been “saving” for far too long). The writing in The Mountains Sing is exquisite. The author, Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai, is a poet, and she writes lyrically, without it being overdone.
From the synopsis because I can’t say it better, “An epic account of Việt Nam’s painful 20th century history, both vast in scope and intimate in its telling . . . Moving and riveting.” —VIET THANH NGUYEN, author of The Sympathizer, winner of the Pulitzer Prize.
Told in alternating narratives at different points in time, at the heart of this story are the beauty and strength of the Vietnamese people, much like their majestic mountains. War brought every kind of devastation imaginable, but Trần Diệu Lan, the grandmother in this story, never lost her determination to survive.
I received a gifted copy. All opinions are my own.
Many of my reviews can also be found on my blog: www.jennifertarheelreader.com and instagram: www.instagram.com/tarheelreader
Have you ever loved a book so much it’s difficult to write about it? That was The Mountains Sing for me. This one has been compared to Homegoing (I LOVED!) and Pachinko (I’ve been “saving” for far too long). The writing in The Mountains Sing is exquisite. The author, Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai, is a poet, and she writes lyrically, without it being overdone.
From the synopsis because I can’t say it better, “An epic account of Việt Nam’s painful 20th century history, both vast in scope and intimate in its telling . . . Moving and riveting.” —VIET THANH NGUYEN, author of The Sympathizer, winner of the Pulitzer Prize.
Told in alternating narratives at different points in time, at the heart of this story are the beauty and strength of the Vietnamese people, much like their majestic mountains. War brought every kind of devastation imaginable, but Trần Diệu Lan, the grandmother in this story, never lost her determination to survive.
I received a gifted copy. All opinions are my own.
Many of my reviews can also be found on my blog: www.jennifertarheelreader.com and instagram: www.instagram.com/tarheelreader
March 27, 2020
Gorgeous and miracle a poignant tale of resilience and heart. Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai's lush and vivid storytelling transported me to Vietnam. The story spans most of 20th century Vietnam told from alternating perspectives in dual timelines from grandmother and granddaughter. 1950s Trần Diệu Lan is Born the daughter of a wealthy farmer. As a young girl she was told by a palm reader that she would live a hard life and indeed she did. From the death of her father to the great hunger to the land reform, to the Vietnam war she stood strong and fought hard for her life and the lives of her loved ones. 1970s Hương is living with her grandmother while her parents are off at war fighting against South Vietnam and the Americans. A young girl growing up in the shadows of war, tradition, and change. Both these storylines were equally riveting, heartwrenching, compelling, and beautiful.
As an American I have always thought of the Vietnam war as an American tragedy, where the average age of the combat soldier was 19. This book was very eye-opening and really made me realize that the people of Vietnam suffered even more then I could ever imagine. The French, the Japanese, and then the Americans all invading, forcing their own ideologies on the people of Vietnam for decades. I cannot adequately express how remarkable this book was and I encourage everyone to pick it up.
Quyen Ngo narrates this audio book bringing the perfect tone to this story’s beautiful pros. There are Vietnamese sayings told in Vietnamese sprinkled throughout this book and it was lovely to hear them read to me in Vietnamese. I really love learning so much about the Vietnamese culture and people in this book. I love when a book gives us a glimpse into different cultures and traditions. This is the first book in English from Vietnamese poet Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai and I am definitely hoping it is not her last. Simply stunning!
This book in emojis 🇻🇳 👩👧 🍵 📚 👩🏻⚕️
*** Big thank you to Algonquin Books for my gifted copy of this book. All opinions are my own. ***
As an American I have always thought of the Vietnam war as an American tragedy, where the average age of the combat soldier was 19. This book was very eye-opening and really made me realize that the people of Vietnam suffered even more then I could ever imagine. The French, the Japanese, and then the Americans all invading, forcing their own ideologies on the people of Vietnam for decades. I cannot adequately express how remarkable this book was and I encourage everyone to pick it up.
Quyen Ngo narrates this audio book bringing the perfect tone to this story’s beautiful pros. There are Vietnamese sayings told in Vietnamese sprinkled throughout this book and it was lovely to hear them read to me in Vietnamese. I really love learning so much about the Vietnamese culture and people in this book. I love when a book gives us a glimpse into different cultures and traditions. This is the first book in English from Vietnamese poet Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai and I am definitely hoping it is not her last. Simply stunning!
This book in emojis 🇻🇳 👩👧 🍵 📚 👩🏻⚕️
*** Big thank you to Algonquin Books for my gifted copy of this book. All opinions are my own. ***
July 11, 2021
"... Me di cuenta de que, cuando los seres humanos nos fallan, la naturaleza puede salvarnos".
Enamorada de esta novela. He disfrutado de cada página, saboreado cada plato y deleitado con cada proverbio.
Se trata de una saga familiar ambientada en el Vietnam del Siglo XX, abarcando acontecimientos Históricos como la Segunda Guerra Mundial, la ocupación Japonesa, el efecto del comunismo, la Guerra de Vietnam y las consecuencias de esta.
La historia comienza en los años 70 en Hanói, las bombas caen en las calles y la niña que va a ser nuestra protagonista vive con su abuela tratando de superar el miedo y la muerte que la rodea. La abuela, para tranquilizarla comienza así contando su propia historia y la de sus hijos (la madre y tíos de nuestra protagonista) retrocediendo a los años 30 y a una zona rural donde la familia Tran trabajaba afanosamente para salir adelante.
De esta manera vamos saltando de la historia de la nieta a la de la abuela, conociendo a todos su familiares y viviendo junto a ella momentos muy duros, pero también alegres y cargados de esperanza.
Es un libro con un tempo y estilo muy asiático, obviamente, y por eso, creo que la manera en la que está narrada puede no gustar a todo el mundo, pero a mi me ha encantado y tenido atrapadísima.
A veces, me daba la impresión de estar leyendo un cuento por cómo la abuela narraba su vida a su nieta y también por cómo se cierran algunos acontecimientos de la novela (de manera demasiado obvia, quizás), pero eso no resta un ápice de belleza a 'El canto de las montañas'. Ni tampoco esconde el grito que emerge de sus páginas contra la guerra y las consecuencias tan terribles que hay de ella, desde el estrés postraumático, la hambruna, la enfermedad...
Es un libro que aún siendo duro y triste en muchas ocasiones, nunca pierde ese tono de amor entre la familia y cariño que todo lo supera.
Si os interesa Vietnam, su cultura e Historia, sin lugar a dudas necesitais leer este libro. Desde luego es una lectura que yo voy a tardar en olvidar, así como a la maravillosa abuela que nos acompaña y da la mano durante toda la lectura ♥︎
Enamorada de esta novela. He disfrutado de cada página, saboreado cada plato y deleitado con cada proverbio.
Se trata de una saga familiar ambientada en el Vietnam del Siglo XX, abarcando acontecimientos Históricos como la Segunda Guerra Mundial, la ocupación Japonesa, el efecto del comunismo, la Guerra de Vietnam y las consecuencias de esta.
La historia comienza en los años 70 en Hanói, las bombas caen en las calles y la niña que va a ser nuestra protagonista vive con su abuela tratando de superar el miedo y la muerte que la rodea. La abuela, para tranquilizarla comienza así contando su propia historia y la de sus hijos (la madre y tíos de nuestra protagonista) retrocediendo a los años 30 y a una zona rural donde la familia Tran trabajaba afanosamente para salir adelante.
De esta manera vamos saltando de la historia de la nieta a la de la abuela, conociendo a todos su familiares y viviendo junto a ella momentos muy duros, pero también alegres y cargados de esperanza.
Es un libro con un tempo y estilo muy asiático, obviamente, y por eso, creo que la manera en la que está narrada puede no gustar a todo el mundo, pero a mi me ha encantado y tenido atrapadísima.
A veces, me daba la impresión de estar leyendo un cuento por cómo la abuela narraba su vida a su nieta y también por cómo se cierran algunos acontecimientos de la novela (de manera demasiado obvia, quizás), pero eso no resta un ápice de belleza a 'El canto de las montañas'. Ni tampoco esconde el grito que emerge de sus páginas contra la guerra y las consecuencias tan terribles que hay de ella, desde el estrés postraumático, la hambruna, la enfermedad...
Es un libro que aún siendo duro y triste en muchas ocasiones, nunca pierde ese tono de amor entre la familia y cariño que todo lo supera.
Si os interesa Vietnam, su cultura e Historia, sin lugar a dudas necesitais leer este libro. Desde luego es una lectura que yo voy a tardar en olvidar, así como a la maravillosa abuela que nos acompaña y da la mano durante toda la lectura ♥︎
March 21, 2020
Tragic, courageous, beautiful and hopeful. These are the circumstances described in the multigenerational saga. Set against the background of the Vietnam War, this is the story of the Tran family. Raised as a child of a well off farmer, Tran Dish Lan, a mother with six children is unprepared for the brutality of the Land reform, as the Communist government rose to power in North Vietnam. Forced to flee, she struggles to keep her family together.
Years later we once again find this formidable woman, now doing everything she can to keep her granddaughter safe, while waiting for her son's who had gone off to fight. The traditions and language, their struggles, hopes and fears of these people who are confronted with a war fought on their doorstep are poignantly displayed. There are many who are cruel, but little kindnesses are vital to those just trying to survive. War and other tragic circumstances bring out the worst but also the best in people.
The writing is both poignant and beautiful. This is a beautiful country being torn apart by war. Exemplifying the human cost of ordinary people dealing with a war, not of their making.
Years later we once again find this formidable woman, now doing everything she can to keep her granddaughter safe, while waiting for her son's who had gone off to fight. The traditions and language, their struggles, hopes and fears of these people who are confronted with a war fought on their doorstep are poignantly displayed. There are many who are cruel, but little kindnesses are vital to those just trying to survive. War and other tragic circumstances bring out the worst but also the best in people.
The writing is both poignant and beautiful. This is a beautiful country being torn apart by war. Exemplifying the human cost of ordinary people dealing with a war, not of their making.
December 23, 2020
One of my Top Ten Books of 2020!
A deeply moving story that spans the better part of a century, Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai displays a side of Việt Nam and the Vietnamese people that western audiences haven’t had much exposure to. We’re introduced to the Trần family through hardship and triumph alike, led by their unwavering matriarch Trần Diệu Lan. From French and Japanese occupation to both domestic and international conflict, this family is tested in ways that most of us can hardly begin to imagine.
Although quite beautiful, The Mountains Sing does not shy away from the harsh realities of war. We fall witness to famine, torture, sexual violence, all kinds of brutality and death. From Diệu Lan‘s childhood in the 1920s all the way to her granddaughter’s, Hương, in the 1970s, there’s little that its citizens can do when a nation decides to turn on itself. Your neighbor’s resentment can turn to cruelty, anger into callousness. As easy as it would be to claim an ideology is the sole cause of any given conflict, it’s not that simple. It doesn’t matter if you’re killed by invading capitalist Americans or murdered by your own maniacal communist countrymen, dead is still dead.
And it doesn’t start and end with a single tragedy. Explored is the rippling generational devastation that constant waring leaves in its wake. But even in such a stark and punishing reality, there’s an uplifting amount of tenderness exhibited in the Trần family. Their love is incessant and gets them through any tribulation that comes their way. And when it may not be enough, their fellow man steps in to help them along. Strangers, who are referred to with the same titles given to family members, Sister/Brother/etc., have an enormous capacity for compassion, just as much as their counterparts do for cruelty. War brings out both the highest and lowest parts of humanity, and Quế Mai traverses it all.
I was very impressed by this author’s writing, especially considering English isn’t her first language. Though she’s an accomplished Vietnamese writer, it’s even more difficult to author something originally in a foreign language, as opposed to having your mother tongue translated, so I have that much more respect for her work. I also enjoyed the proverbs scattered throughout the text; they were charming and enlightening. The Việt Nam described in The Mountains Sing is scenic and breathtaking, and I feel privileged having gotten to see it through Diệu Lan and Hương’s eyes.
Though this is a book that takes place in the throes of war, I wouldn’t consider it a war book. It’s a novel about family, about relentless perseverance in service of those you love. There’s parts that are grim, yes, but the heart of the story lies in the way the characters take care of one another, their diligent devotion. With familial love, there’s always someone to come home to.
*Thanks to Algonquin Books & Netgalley for an advance copy!
A deeply moving story that spans the better part of a century, Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai displays a side of Việt Nam and the Vietnamese people that western audiences haven’t had much exposure to. We’re introduced to the Trần family through hardship and triumph alike, led by their unwavering matriarch Trần Diệu Lan. From French and Japanese occupation to both domestic and international conflict, this family is tested in ways that most of us can hardly begin to imagine.
Although quite beautiful, The Mountains Sing does not shy away from the harsh realities of war. We fall witness to famine, torture, sexual violence, all kinds of brutality and death. From Diệu Lan‘s childhood in the 1920s all the way to her granddaughter’s, Hương, in the 1970s, there’s little that its citizens can do when a nation decides to turn on itself. Your neighbor’s resentment can turn to cruelty, anger into callousness. As easy as it would be to claim an ideology is the sole cause of any given conflict, it’s not that simple. It doesn’t matter if you’re killed by invading capitalist Americans or murdered by your own maniacal communist countrymen, dead is still dead.
And it doesn’t start and end with a single tragedy. Explored is the rippling generational devastation that constant waring leaves in its wake. But even in such a stark and punishing reality, there’s an uplifting amount of tenderness exhibited in the Trần family. Their love is incessant and gets them through any tribulation that comes their way. And when it may not be enough, their fellow man steps in to help them along. Strangers, who are referred to with the same titles given to family members, Sister/Brother/etc., have an enormous capacity for compassion, just as much as their counterparts do for cruelty. War brings out both the highest and lowest parts of humanity, and Quế Mai traverses it all.
I was very impressed by this author’s writing, especially considering English isn’t her first language. Though she’s an accomplished Vietnamese writer, it’s even more difficult to author something originally in a foreign language, as opposed to having your mother tongue translated, so I have that much more respect for her work. I also enjoyed the proverbs scattered throughout the text; they were charming and enlightening. The Việt Nam described in The Mountains Sing is scenic and breathtaking, and I feel privileged having gotten to see it through Diệu Lan and Hương’s eyes.
Though this is a book that takes place in the throes of war, I wouldn’t consider it a war book. It’s a novel about family, about relentless perseverance in service of those you love. There’s parts that are grim, yes, but the heart of the story lies in the way the characters take care of one another, their diligent devotion. With familial love, there’s always someone to come home to.
*Thanks to Algonquin Books & Netgalley for an advance copy!
June 12, 2021
This is a story of survival. Generations of a family in Vietnam with the matriarch, Tran Dieuu Lan, at the helm, as she tells her story to her granddaughter whom she raised while her own children went off to war. A narrative so rich In layers with such love, success, loss, hardship, war and the difficult choices and sacrifices she made as a mother.
The waiting of the return of her children to come back from the war. The heartbreak, the suffering.
And a woman who stood as tall as those mountains she faced.
Such beautiful language and memorable characters.
4.5 ⭐️
The waiting of the return of her children to come back from the war. The heartbreak, the suffering.
And a woman who stood as tall as those mountains she faced.
Such beautiful language and memorable characters.
4.5 ⭐️
June 22, 2024
The title of this 2020 novel, The Mountains Sing, should perhaps have alerted me. The language and imagery in the first chapter is so lyrical, it is like reading poetry. In fact the book’s author, Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai, is a famous Vietnamese poet, and this is her first novel. It is heartfelt and poignant, and astonishingly, she has written it not in Vietnamese, but in English. Despite all her accolades and awards for books of poetry, essays and translations, Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai clearly feels this to be a special, personal story, and one which must be told in a way which ensures the widest possible audience.
The Mountains Sing begins in the village of Vĩnh Phúc, in the Nghệ An province of North Vietnam. The Trần family are wealthy landowners and farmers. They employ local villagers whom they treat fairly, and like members of their own family. The grandmother in the Trần family is called “Trần Dieu Lan”. (In Vietnamese, the family name comes first, so the personal name of the author, for instance, is the final two names, “Quế Mai”.)
The grandmother and granddaughter each take turns to narrate the story. Diệu Lan was born in 1920, and her granddaughter, Hương in 1960. The chapters alternate, and we follow the history of each viewpoint character in turn. We thus follow the events of the Trần family in North Vietnam between the 1930s and 1980s, and then flip forwards briefly to 2017. Rather than being confusing, the dual voices add a richness, depth and extra perspective to the tale, which a simple chronological history of events might have lacked.
Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai keeps to this simple structure, and at each switch we are in no doubt who is talking. The author gives clear but subtle indications; perhaps referring to an event from the previous time the character narrated, or some identifying aspect of that character’s speech or concerns. And we are able to see how the members of the extended Trần family cope with devastating wars, famine, corruption and political revolution: the land reforms by the Communists, and 40 years of war, testing each individual to the limit, seeing whether they survive or fall during three generations of conflict in Vietnam.
By showing us the inner thoughts of two such distinct characters, Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai engages our attention. A reader can empathise with the confused feelings of the young girl as the terrible events unfold, as well as viewing events with the adult perspective and wisdom of the grandmother. In an interview when accepting an award, we see that the author put parts of herself into both these characters:
“When I was growing up in Vietnam, as I laboured on rice fields and sold things on streets, I escaped into books I had read and stories I made up in my mind, and dreamed of becoming a writer. Thank you so much for enabling my childhood dream to become a reality. Thank you for creating space on your bookshelf and in your heart for stories about Vietnamese people—stories which have been neglected, buried, or erased. [This] Debut Award shows me that kindness and compassion exists … May we read more about each other’s experiences so that humans love humans more, so that one day there will be no war on earth.”
There is tragedy and suffering throughout the novel, yet the strength and courage of the Vietnamese people shines amid it all. The book’s title The Mountains Sing is explained by Diệu Lan to her granddaughter:
“The challenges faced by Vietnamese people throughout history are as tall as the tallest mountains. If you stand too close, you won’t be able to see their peaks. Once you step away from the currents of life, you will have the full view…”
Young Hương must step away from the rollercoaster of her life, and when she does, the mountains sing.
The events and aftermath of war, and its effect on a normal family, is of course the main focus of this book. Hương is shocked to realise how many people have invaded her country, and carried on their wars. First came the French, in the 1800s. They were to rule until 1954, although there were many conflicts and political uprisings. In fact Vietnam was occupied by the Japanese for 5 years, during 1940-1945, fifteen years before Hương was born. This catalogue of strife, subjugation and suffering then, is Hương’s country’s history.
Most of this novel deals with the war between North and South Vietnam, from 1954–1975, which eventually was to lead to the expulsion of the Americans in 1973. The war between North and South Vietnam finally ended in 1975, when the North Vietnamese captured Sài Gòn, and renamed it “Ho Chi Minh City”, when South Vietnam surrendered, and the Unified Communist Socialist Republic of Vietnam was established.
The war had been part of a larger regional conflict: the Indochina wars. This second Indochina War had been a manifestation of the Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union and their respective allies. The South Vietnamese fought to preserve a Vietnam more closely aligned with the West. The conflict came about when North Vietnam defeated the French colonial administration of Vietnam in 1954, unifying the entire country under a single Communist regime modelled after those of the Soviet Union and China. In South Vietnam there were also some allies of the Communist regime, known as the Viet Cong.
More and more of the U.S. military advisers, who were present in small numbers throughout the 1950s, were sent, until by 1969 more than half a million U.S. military personnel were stationed in Vietnam. At the same time, the Soviet Union and China poured weapons, supplies, and advisers into the North, which were used for the campaign in the South. Eventually the costs and casualties proved too much for the United States to bear, and U.S. combat units were withdrawn by 1973, before South Vietnam fell to the full-scale invasion by the Communist North 2 years later.
Grandmother Diệu Lan grew up at the time of the French occupation. She had lived from the French colonial period, and through the Communist Việt Minh’s rise to power, as they developed into the People’s Army of Vietnam. In September 1940 Vietnam became occupied by Japanese forces, which were expanding throughout South-East Asia, and seeking greater control over China’s southern borders. Diệu Lan survived this 5 year occupation by the Japanese. When the Japanese occupation began, the Việt Minh had opposed Japan with support from the United States and the Republic of China. Then came the separation between North and South Vietnam.
Hương listens to Diệu Lan’s stories, and reads the world’s classic books, trying to piece together what had happened during the war, and to make sense of the conflicts in the world around her.
“The more I read, the more I became afraid of wars. Wars have the power to turn graceful and cultured people into monsters.”
“But by reading their books, I saw the other side of them—their humanity. Somehow I was sure that if people were willing to read each other, and see the light of other cultures, there would be no war on earth.”
Despite the beautiful prose, and sensitive portrayal of the character, the events are grim.
This dramatic section comprises a large part of the novel, and is most affecting. The children are of course Hương’s father, and aunties and uncles. We are by now invested with each of the characters, but suspect that not all of them will survive. More than one are missing. Perhaps we will learn what has happened; perhaps they will return, though severely traumatised or horrifically injured, or perhaps we may never learn their destiny. Perhaps they will escape, but discover a terrible price is yet to be paid—by their own children—after their parents’ exposure to Agent Orange.
“The war might destroy our houses, but it can’t extinguish our spirit.”
The Mountains Sing is steeped in Vietnamese traditions and folklore; sayings and legends are embedded and intrinsic to both the novel, and its characters’ world view. Each saying is written first in Vietnamese, before being translated into English. A central one is the “Sơn ca”. Legend says that the souls of the dead return in the “Sơn ca”’s singing, as in the title.
By telling the stories of what happened to ordinary people during these troubled times in Vietnamese history, its author Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai tells us that their memories are kept alive, and that they can live on through their descendants. It is part of the rich cultural texture and Buddhist traditions of The Mountains Sing. It is a message of comfort, and also of great hope for the future.
Before I read this book, I might have wondered how a book could be both harrowing, yet so lyrical, and written in such beautiful prose. It spans three generations—and nearly a century of Vietnamese history—in one of the most troubled, divided and most politically complex societies on Earth. Disaster upon disaster seems to fall on these tough, gentle, sensitive people. It is one of the most gripping stories I have read, yet many of the violent events are related, or told in a diary, rather than confronting the reader directly. Even when we see violent action first hand, it is never described in a gratuitous way.
“Only through honesty can we learn about the truth.”
“But it didn’t matter how long or short we lived. It mattered more how much light we were able to shed on those we loved and how many people we touched with our compassion.”
“If our stories survive, we will not die, even when our bodies are no longer here on this Earth.”
The imagery is breathtaking. There is a constant dependence on the Earth itself for survival, and we see the innate connections the characters have with Nature. Hương “held the broom, sweeping sunlight into piles”. Voices rise “like kites”. Diệu Lan sees herself as a butterfly who has “lost its wings, a tree who had forsaken all its leaves and branches”. A love of the natural environment spills from the pages, telling of blossoms of a longan tree “spreading a dome of pearls atop the green canopy”.
Immersed in the book we see how Nature provides symbols and metaphors for the story. The bang tree at the Trần family home clearly represents the growth and resiliency of the Trần family during and after the war. Diệu Lan and Hương take great care to replant the tree, after rebuilding their house, which had been destroyed. Later, Hương notices the state of the bang tree whenever her family is gathered together. After her Uncle Đạt has told her his story of being in the war, Hương sees that the bang tree “stirred, its branches rustling against our roof”. And by the end of the novel, the tree “had grown tall”—just as their family grew ever stronger— by overcoming the terrible conflicts and challenges of war.
As I close the book, I am aware that this is ultimately an uplifting tale. Hương’s story is an engrossing Bildungsroman. After all her experiences in the face of adversity, Hương remains positive and hopeful, looking forward to a better future. We see many instances of support and love: simple kindnesses between people, effecting a rescue whatever side their die has been cast. These show the best side of human nature. Diệu Lan’s story is, if anything, even more gripping and powerful. This determined, resolute and resourceful grandmother emerges as a true hero, as she relates her struggles, not only for her own survival, but that of all her family.
As an English reader, I had only known a little about the Vietnamese War, mainly through News broadcasts. Neither did I have an American perspective on the history. It has been an eye-opener to read this carefully researched and imaginative novel. Aspects of the Trần family’s courageous and moving story, can doubtless be echoed by millions of families across Vietnam.
“History will write itself in people’s memories, and as long as those memories live on, we can have faith that we can do better.”
The Mountains Sing begins in the village of Vĩnh Phúc, in the Nghệ An province of North Vietnam. The Trần family are wealthy landowners and farmers. They employ local villagers whom they treat fairly, and like members of their own family. The grandmother in the Trần family is called “Trần Dieu Lan”. (In Vietnamese, the family name comes first, so the personal name of the author, for instance, is the final two names, “Quế Mai”.)
The grandmother and granddaughter each take turns to narrate the story. Diệu Lan was born in 1920, and her granddaughter, Hương in 1960. The chapters alternate, and we follow the history of each viewpoint character in turn. We thus follow the events of the Trần family in North Vietnam between the 1930s and 1980s, and then flip forwards briefly to 2017. Rather than being confusing, the dual voices add a richness, depth and extra perspective to the tale, which a simple chronological history of events might have lacked.
Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai keeps to this simple structure, and at each switch we are in no doubt who is talking. The author gives clear but subtle indications; perhaps referring to an event from the previous time the character narrated, or some identifying aspect of that character’s speech or concerns. And we are able to see how the members of the extended Trần family cope with devastating wars, famine, corruption and political revolution: the land reforms by the Communists, and 40 years of war, testing each individual to the limit, seeing whether they survive or fall during three generations of conflict in Vietnam.
By showing us the inner thoughts of two such distinct characters, Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai engages our attention. A reader can empathise with the confused feelings of the young girl as the terrible events unfold, as well as viewing events with the adult perspective and wisdom of the grandmother. In an interview when accepting an award, we see that the author put parts of herself into both these characters:
“When I was growing up in Vietnam, as I laboured on rice fields and sold things on streets, I escaped into books I had read and stories I made up in my mind, and dreamed of becoming a writer. Thank you so much for enabling my childhood dream to become a reality. Thank you for creating space on your bookshelf and in your heart for stories about Vietnamese people—stories which have been neglected, buried, or erased. [This] Debut Award shows me that kindness and compassion exists … May we read more about each other’s experiences so that humans love humans more, so that one day there will be no war on earth.”
There is tragedy and suffering throughout the novel, yet the strength and courage of the Vietnamese people shines amid it all. The book’s title The Mountains Sing is explained by Diệu Lan to her granddaughter:
“The challenges faced by Vietnamese people throughout history are as tall as the tallest mountains. If you stand too close, you won’t be able to see their peaks. Once you step away from the currents of life, you will have the full view…”
Young Hương must step away from the rollercoaster of her life, and when she does, the mountains sing.
The events and aftermath of war, and its effect on a normal family, is of course the main focus of this book. Hương is shocked to realise how many people have invaded her country, and carried on their wars. First came the French, in the 1800s. They were to rule until 1954, although there were many conflicts and political uprisings. In fact Vietnam was occupied by the Japanese for 5 years, during 1940-1945, fifteen years before Hương was born. This catalogue of strife, subjugation and suffering then, is Hương’s country’s history.
Most of this novel deals with the war between North and South Vietnam, from 1954–1975, which eventually was to lead to the expulsion of the Americans in 1973. The war between North and South Vietnam finally ended in 1975, when the North Vietnamese captured Sài Gòn, and renamed it “Ho Chi Minh City”, when South Vietnam surrendered, and the Unified Communist Socialist Republic of Vietnam was established.
The war had been part of a larger regional conflict: the Indochina wars. This second Indochina War had been a manifestation of the Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union and their respective allies. The South Vietnamese fought to preserve a Vietnam more closely aligned with the West. The conflict came about when North Vietnam defeated the French colonial administration of Vietnam in 1954, unifying the entire country under a single Communist regime modelled after those of the Soviet Union and China. In South Vietnam there were also some allies of the Communist regime, known as the Viet Cong.
More and more of the U.S. military advisers, who were present in small numbers throughout the 1950s, were sent, until by 1969 more than half a million U.S. military personnel were stationed in Vietnam. At the same time, the Soviet Union and China poured weapons, supplies, and advisers into the North, which were used for the campaign in the South. Eventually the costs and casualties proved too much for the United States to bear, and U.S. combat units were withdrawn by 1973, before South Vietnam fell to the full-scale invasion by the Communist North 2 years later.
Grandmother Diệu Lan grew up at the time of the French occupation. She had lived from the French colonial period, and through the Communist Việt Minh’s rise to power, as they developed into the People’s Army of Vietnam. In September 1940 Vietnam became occupied by Japanese forces, which were expanding throughout South-East Asia, and seeking greater control over China’s southern borders. Diệu Lan survived this 5 year occupation by the Japanese. When the Japanese occupation began, the Việt Minh had opposed Japan with support from the United States and the Republic of China. Then came the separation between North and South Vietnam.
Hương listens to Diệu Lan’s stories, and reads the world’s classic books, trying to piece together what had happened during the war, and to make sense of the conflicts in the world around her.
“The more I read, the more I became afraid of wars. Wars have the power to turn graceful and cultured people into monsters.”
“But by reading their books, I saw the other side of them—their humanity. Somehow I was sure that if people were willing to read each other, and see the light of other cultures, there would be no war on earth.”
Despite the beautiful prose, and sensitive portrayal of the character, the events are grim.
This dramatic section comprises a large part of the novel, and is most affecting. The children are of course Hương’s father, and aunties and uncles. We are by now invested with each of the characters, but suspect that not all of them will survive. More than one are missing. Perhaps we will learn what has happened; perhaps they will return, though severely traumatised or horrifically injured, or perhaps we may never learn their destiny. Perhaps they will escape, but discover a terrible price is yet to be paid—by their own children—after their parents’ exposure to Agent Orange.
“The war might destroy our houses, but it can’t extinguish our spirit.”
The Mountains Sing is steeped in Vietnamese traditions and folklore; sayings and legends are embedded and intrinsic to both the novel, and its characters’ world view. Each saying is written first in Vietnamese, before being translated into English. A central one is the “Sơn ca”. Legend says that the souls of the dead return in the “Sơn ca”’s singing, as in the title.
By telling the stories of what happened to ordinary people during these troubled times in Vietnamese history, its author Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai tells us that their memories are kept alive, and that they can live on through their descendants. It is part of the rich cultural texture and Buddhist traditions of The Mountains Sing. It is a message of comfort, and also of great hope for the future.
Before I read this book, I might have wondered how a book could be both harrowing, yet so lyrical, and written in such beautiful prose. It spans three generations—and nearly a century of Vietnamese history—in one of the most troubled, divided and most politically complex societies on Earth. Disaster upon disaster seems to fall on these tough, gentle, sensitive people. It is one of the most gripping stories I have read, yet many of the violent events are related, or told in a diary, rather than confronting the reader directly. Even when we see violent action first hand, it is never described in a gratuitous way.
“Only through honesty can we learn about the truth.”
“But it didn’t matter how long or short we lived. It mattered more how much light we were able to shed on those we loved and how many people we touched with our compassion.”
“If our stories survive, we will not die, even when our bodies are no longer here on this Earth.”
The imagery is breathtaking. There is a constant dependence on the Earth itself for survival, and we see the innate connections the characters have with Nature. Hương “held the broom, sweeping sunlight into piles”. Voices rise “like kites”. Diệu Lan sees herself as a butterfly who has “lost its wings, a tree who had forsaken all its leaves and branches”. A love of the natural environment spills from the pages, telling of blossoms of a longan tree “spreading a dome of pearls atop the green canopy”.
Immersed in the book we see how Nature provides symbols and metaphors for the story. The bang tree at the Trần family home clearly represents the growth and resiliency of the Trần family during and after the war. Diệu Lan and Hương take great care to replant the tree, after rebuilding their house, which had been destroyed. Later, Hương notices the state of the bang tree whenever her family is gathered together. After her Uncle Đạt has told her his story of being in the war, Hương sees that the bang tree “stirred, its branches rustling against our roof”. And by the end of the novel, the tree “had grown tall”—just as their family grew ever stronger— by overcoming the terrible conflicts and challenges of war.
As I close the book, I am aware that this is ultimately an uplifting tale. Hương’s story is an engrossing Bildungsroman. After all her experiences in the face of adversity, Hương remains positive and hopeful, looking forward to a better future. We see many instances of support and love: simple kindnesses between people, effecting a rescue whatever side their die has been cast. These show the best side of human nature. Diệu Lan’s story is, if anything, even more gripping and powerful. This determined, resolute and resourceful grandmother emerges as a true hero, as she relates her struggles, not only for her own survival, but that of all her family.
As an English reader, I had only known a little about the Vietnamese War, mainly through News broadcasts. Neither did I have an American perspective on the history. It has been an eye-opener to read this carefully researched and imaginative novel. Aspects of the Trần family’s courageous and moving story, can doubtless be echoed by millions of families across Vietnam.
“History will write itself in people’s memories, and as long as those memories live on, we can have faith that we can do better.”
April 7, 2020
This is a beautiful yet heartbreaking and turbulent multigenerational story of one Vietnamese family told through the voices of two women..Huong Tran and her grandmother Dieu Lan.
It starts off in Ha Noi, with Huong and her grandmother running in search of a bomb shelter as their city is being bombed by the Americans.
A coming of age story of Huong... and a history of her grandmother living through the Great Hunger and The Land Reform, and escaping with five children under her wing.
A moving story.. I was completely absorbed in this one, and I learned a lot about Vietnam history.
4.5 stars
It starts off in Ha Noi, with Huong and her grandmother running in search of a bomb shelter as their city is being bombed by the Americans.
A coming of age story of Huong... and a history of her grandmother living through the Great Hunger and The Land Reform, and escaping with five children under her wing.
A moving story.. I was completely absorbed in this one, and I learned a lot about Vietnam history.
4.5 stars
February 21, 2023
Have you ever read book and found difficulty describing the experience? That's definitely me. I couldn't even begin to describe the varied emotions that I went through reading this book. I have to agree with the summary of this book; if you like Pachinko and/or Homegoing you're not going to want to miss this title. CW: war, death on page, rape, violence on page
The Mountains Sing tells the story of granddaughter Hương and grandmother Tran Diệu Lan and their experiences growing up during different times periods in Vietnam spanning from the 1920s to the 1970s. Nguyen Phan Que Mai beautifully captures the history of the Great Hunger, the Land Reform and the Vietnam War and privies the reader to parts of history they may not know.
What I Liked: The storytelling in this book was phenomenal. I mean absolutely amazing. There are bits and pieces that I know about Vietnam, but not from perspectives of the individuals that were impacted by major events like the Land Reform and the Vietnam War. Mai does not hold the readers hand through this narrative. It's gritty and quite frankly extremely dark. The side by side narrative where readers get a piece of Tran Dieu Lan's story and then a piece of Huong story was absolutely brilliant. It was constructed in a manner that was easy to follow even on audio and effortlessly wove together the interconnectedness of the stories. One of the themes that I connected with most was hope. Things are consistently rough for both Tran and Huong. Mai allowing their lives to be filled with hope amidst so much darkness was great. Nevertheless, Mai doesn't wash away the trauma associated with their experience. It is front and center and addressed.
Overall, this is one of those books that I feel should be taught alongside history courses. A lot of times war, colonialism, imperialism, and more are told from the perspective of the winners and those engaging in encroaching on the territories of others. The Mountains Sings permits readers to see it from a different perspective of those who had no voice in the decisions made, but were greatly impacted. Honestly, if you haven't considered reading this book you're missing out. I highly recommend checking it out.
The Mountains Sing tells the story of granddaughter Hương and grandmother Tran Diệu Lan and their experiences growing up during different times periods in Vietnam spanning from the 1920s to the 1970s. Nguyen Phan Que Mai beautifully captures the history of the Great Hunger, the Land Reform and the Vietnam War and privies the reader to parts of history they may not know.
What I Liked: The storytelling in this book was phenomenal. I mean absolutely amazing. There are bits and pieces that I know about Vietnam, but not from perspectives of the individuals that were impacted by major events like the Land Reform and the Vietnam War. Mai does not hold the readers hand through this narrative. It's gritty and quite frankly extremely dark. The side by side narrative where readers get a piece of Tran Dieu Lan's story and then a piece of Huong story was absolutely brilliant. It was constructed in a manner that was easy to follow even on audio and effortlessly wove together the interconnectedness of the stories. One of the themes that I connected with most was hope. Things are consistently rough for both Tran and Huong. Mai allowing their lives to be filled with hope amidst so much darkness was great. Nevertheless, Mai doesn't wash away the trauma associated with their experience. It is front and center and addressed.
Overall, this is one of those books that I feel should be taught alongside history courses. A lot of times war, colonialism, imperialism, and more are told from the perspective of the winners and those engaging in encroaching on the territories of others. The Mountains Sings permits readers to see it from a different perspective of those who had no voice in the decisions made, but were greatly impacted. Honestly, if you haven't considered reading this book you're missing out. I highly recommend checking it out.
May 7, 2020
"Wars have the power to turn graceful and cultured people into monsters.
I always appreciate novels that teach me something and this book certainly accomplished that, as I knew little about Vietnam or even the disastrous war America waged there.
The Mountains Sing follows one family through Vietnam's calamitous history, from the 1920s to 1979. It is devastating to read, heartbreaking. What this family and many others suffered is inconceivable to me.
The story is narrated by the teenage Hương, born in 1960, and her grandmother who suffered through years of famine, war, and other hardships. I enjoyed the grandmother's narration the most, learning about Vietnam's bleak history through her story as she relates it to Hương.
We learn how the French colonized Vietnam, heavily taxing the people. How the Japanese arrived during WWII, brutalizing the Vietnamese. How the Communists took over the North with tragic consequences for many families. How the United States joined the South against the Communist North, heavily bombing the country and killing as many as two million citizens.
Young Hương tries to make sense of all this violence. Of course, there isn't much sense to be found in war. As she observes, "If people were willing to read each other, and see the light of other cultures, there would be no war on earth".
Fans of historical fiction will no doubt love this novel. It is a refreshing departure from the usual WWII romance books that currently dominate the genre. For me however, the writing is too sentimental, too flowery. I still appreciated the story, and learning about those decades of Vietnam's history. It is tragic, describing suffering that many of us can thankfully hardly imagine.
It will break your heart.
3.5 stars rounded up.
I always appreciate novels that teach me something and this book certainly accomplished that, as I knew little about Vietnam or even the disastrous war America waged there.
The Mountains Sing follows one family through Vietnam's calamitous history, from the 1920s to 1979. It is devastating to read, heartbreaking. What this family and many others suffered is inconceivable to me.
The story is narrated by the teenage Hương, born in 1960, and her grandmother who suffered through years of famine, war, and other hardships. I enjoyed the grandmother's narration the most, learning about Vietnam's bleak history through her story as she relates it to Hương.
We learn how the French colonized Vietnam, heavily taxing the people. How the Japanese arrived during WWII, brutalizing the Vietnamese. How the Communists took over the North with tragic consequences for many families. How the United States joined the South against the Communist North, heavily bombing the country and killing as many as two million citizens.
Young Hương tries to make sense of all this violence. Of course, there isn't much sense to be found in war. As she observes, "If people were willing to read each other, and see the light of other cultures, there would be no war on earth".
Fans of historical fiction will no doubt love this novel. It is a refreshing departure from the usual WWII romance books that currently dominate the genre. For me however, the writing is too sentimental, too flowery. I still appreciated the story, and learning about those decades of Vietnam's history. It is tragic, describing suffering that many of us can thankfully hardly imagine.
It will break your heart.
3.5 stars rounded up.
June 3, 2020
4.5 Stars
’In the yard, the longan tree was blooming, its blossoms spreading a dome of pearls atop its green canopy. Instead of bringing joy to my heart, the sight reminded me that life’s peaceful moments could be as short-lived as flowers—gone with a strong gust of wind.
An appalling, disturbing, if beautifully told, multi-generational family saga inspired by the things her own family endured, as well as other Vietnamese who shared their stories with the author. A story that is also hard to put down, as devastating as this story is, to put it down seems like an active denial that these events, or even those like them, didn’t happen. But we know better, and to deny the truth is the biggest hypocrisy, despite how prevalent it may be.
When young Hương, whose name means scent of the flower, is called by her grandmother to see her Uncle, returned from the war, she is given a treasure he’s been carrying to her for seven years and two months, an exquisitely carved bird carved by her father. When she asks the name of the bird, he replies Sơn ca
’A splendid name,’ Grandma smiled at me. Sơn ca means ‘The Mountain Sings.’
’They said the Sơn ca’s songs can reach Heaven, and souls of the dead can return in the Sơn ca’s singing.’
Beginning in the 1950’s this story traces the four generations of the Tran family into the early 1970’s, after the bombing of Hà Nội, and ultimately ending in 2017. During most of these years, the war is never far from their thoughts, while this weaves back and forth through time, sharing this story of incredible devastation, unfathomable heartbreak, while also being infused with a hope for the future, and so much love that it still takes my breath away just thinking about what I’ve just read.
’Wisps of smoke curl upward. And in the twirling ash, I see the Sơn ca moving. It is flapping its wings, craning its neck, calling my grandma’s songs toward Heaven.’
Many thanks for the ARC sent by Algonguin Press, I am also grateful to the Public Library system, and the many Librarians that manage, organize and keep it running, for the loan of this book so that I could finally read it!
’In the yard, the longan tree was blooming, its blossoms spreading a dome of pearls atop its green canopy. Instead of bringing joy to my heart, the sight reminded me that life’s peaceful moments could be as short-lived as flowers—gone with a strong gust of wind.
An appalling, disturbing, if beautifully told, multi-generational family saga inspired by the things her own family endured, as well as other Vietnamese who shared their stories with the author. A story that is also hard to put down, as devastating as this story is, to put it down seems like an active denial that these events, or even those like them, didn’t happen. But we know better, and to deny the truth is the biggest hypocrisy, despite how prevalent it may be.
When young Hương, whose name means scent of the flower, is called by her grandmother to see her Uncle, returned from the war, she is given a treasure he’s been carrying to her for seven years and two months, an exquisitely carved bird carved by her father. When she asks the name of the bird, he replies Sơn ca
’A splendid name,’ Grandma smiled at me. Sơn ca means ‘The Mountain Sings.’
’They said the Sơn ca’s songs can reach Heaven, and souls of the dead can return in the Sơn ca’s singing.’
Beginning in the 1950’s this story traces the four generations of the Tran family into the early 1970’s, after the bombing of Hà Nội, and ultimately ending in 2017. During most of these years, the war is never far from their thoughts, while this weaves back and forth through time, sharing this story of incredible devastation, unfathomable heartbreak, while also being infused with a hope for the future, and so much love that it still takes my breath away just thinking about what I’ve just read.
’Wisps of smoke curl upward. And in the twirling ash, I see the Sơn ca moving. It is flapping its wings, craning its neck, calling my grandma’s songs toward Heaven.’
Many thanks for the ARC sent by Algonguin Press, I am also grateful to the Public Library system, and the many Librarians that manage, organize and keep it running, for the loan of this book so that I could finally read it!
April 21, 2020
I struggled with this book. Primarily, I think it suffers from the author foregoing a translator and writing outside their first language. The story is engaging, with and endearing message that easily translates into classrooms. However, the writing is stale and at times painfully cliche. I find the characters outside of the two main characters feel one-dimensional and mainly static. Even the main characters feel like a collection of traits and events rather than individuals who might exist in the world. Most frustrating, all the primary characters largely repeat the same lines about the communist government "don't believe the propaganda" "We're not exploiters", etc., while characters supportive of the government are portrayed and less thoughtful and almost savage. The subject matter is harrowing and enlightening and part of a history that should be taught. This book is a great vehicle for teaching that history ands would be used in classrooms. However, I can not recommend this to a casual reader. Towards the end, I was reading the book just to finish and was often frustrated primarily by the stale writing style, poorly developed characters, and the way in which the author beats the themes into you throughout the book.
December 7, 2020
THE BEST NOVEL OF 202o. (Obviously Goodreads passed it right by in their annual Choice Awards...blame the pandemic, blame marketing, blame a dwindling global/local readership...)
Like titanic majesties made of time and weather, the awe--when it comes to writing about such beautiful work--takes a pause. Its enjoyed as it lingers in stillness in the air...
A multigenerational saga of grandmothers, mother, and their children; it comes at a time when the very thematic diamond unearthed by debut novelist Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai is needed to confront these hard times (Fall 2020). A diamond, a motif, an ingenious engine that moves the tale back and forth between anecdotes and vignettes of horrors of war. (The quick way fortunes are built on blood and sweat, and how fast they disappear once the tide has turned on their favor. The history of Viet Nam is a seismograph of war that only rises and falls at the whims of dictators and ideas turned heartless and without empathy through the decades. Here there is an emphasis on PTSD from survivors at all fronts; cultural cycles of generational grief. Resistance and subservience). We need this in our times, these heartless weird dystopian times of regimes and senseless loss of human life. We need to remember the love of our ancestors in order to move forward... they want (would have wanted) to.
Like titanic majesties made of time and weather, the awe--when it comes to writing about such beautiful work--takes a pause. Its enjoyed as it lingers in stillness in the air...
A multigenerational saga of grandmothers, mother, and their children; it comes at a time when the very thematic diamond unearthed by debut novelist Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai is needed to confront these hard times (Fall 2020). A diamond, a motif, an ingenious engine that moves the tale back and forth between anecdotes and vignettes of horrors of war. (The quick way fortunes are built on blood and sweat, and how fast they disappear once the tide has turned on their favor. The history of Viet Nam is a seismograph of war that only rises and falls at the whims of dictators and ideas turned heartless and without empathy through the decades. Here there is an emphasis on PTSD from survivors at all fronts; cultural cycles of generational grief. Resistance and subservience). We need this in our times, these heartless weird dystopian times of regimes and senseless loss of human life. We need to remember the love of our ancestors in order to move forward... they want (would have wanted) to.
June 20, 2022
War brings death, misery, suffering, pain with itself. But it also make people brave enough to stand in front enemy and fight till the end; it brings kindness and help from unexpected places. And lastly it brings change with itself, good or bad that decision is upto people who are left behind once the dust of death settles.
A story told by two women, a grandmother and her granddaughter, is heartbreaking and of suffering. While men were sent off to fight the war, women remained behind to face the consequences on their own. There was betrayal, and there were sacrifices that these women made to keep themselves and children to survive. But there was also hope, hope that they would be reunited with the loved ones, and good times would once again knock on their doors.
This was a sad and yet beautiful tale.
A story told by two women, a grandmother and her granddaughter, is heartbreaking and of suffering. While men were sent off to fight the war, women remained behind to face the consequences on their own. There was betrayal, and there were sacrifices that these women made to keep themselves and children to survive. But there was also hope, hope that they would be reunited with the loved ones, and good times would once again knock on their doors.
This was a sad and yet beautiful tale.
March 19, 2020
March 18, 2020: This book is now available. My heart breaks for this author and other authors whose book tours are cancelled or postponed due to the pandemic. Please do what you can to encourage and support them.
How much privation and loss and violence can one small nation endure? If you were to study the history of Vietnam in the 20th century, it would almost seem as if the fates had set out to determine the answer to that question. Most of us are familiar with the Vietnam War from the American perspective, but the Vietnamese people had already suffered through numerous indignities and atrocities long before the Americans interfered.
In this novel we follow the fortunes and misfortunes of one extended family and see the inter-generational effects of repeated trauma and displacement. The author uses a simple, conversational narrative style in the alternating voices of an adolescent girl and her grandmother.
The grandmother, Lieu Dan, tells her granddaughter, Huong, about the horrors she experienced from the 1930s through the 1950s, including the Japanese invasion, the Great Hunger, and the Land Reform.
The granddaughter, Huong, begins her story in 1972, when she is twelve years old. She tells of life with her grandmother during the Vietnam War. Their two voices together create a sweeping family saga of suffering and fear, but also of great love, sacrifice, and determination to survive.
The author is a native of Vietnam, and she gives the novel a cultural authenticity that can't be faked. There's a naturalness in her inclusion of the food, clothing, social customs, devotion to family, and numerous proverbs that are unique to Vietnamese life.
By the time I finished the novel I had forgotten what was said in the author's dedication at the beginning. When I went back and re-read that dedication, it brought me to tears, as I realized that the seed of this story came from her own family's lived experience. She states that the characters are wholly fictional, but it's clear that their struggles mirror reality.
Here is part of that dedication:
"For my grandmother, who perished in the Great Hunger; for my grandfather, who died because of the Land Reform; and for my uncle, whose youth the Vietnam War consumed."
Available March 17, 2020
NOTE: Shortly after I wrote this review, the author posted the details of her writing journey. After reading her post, I believe her process must be included in my overall assessment of the book, and I am therefore adding the fifth star. Knowing the context of her experience will enrich your involvement with the novel. She has a heart full of love for her country and was willing to face any challenges to share the story of Vietnam and her people. I encourage you to read her post here:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
How much privation and loss and violence can one small nation endure? If you were to study the history of Vietnam in the 20th century, it would almost seem as if the fates had set out to determine the answer to that question. Most of us are familiar with the Vietnam War from the American perspective, but the Vietnamese people had already suffered through numerous indignities and atrocities long before the Americans interfered.
In this novel we follow the fortunes and misfortunes of one extended family and see the inter-generational effects of repeated trauma and displacement. The author uses a simple, conversational narrative style in the alternating voices of an adolescent girl and her grandmother.
The grandmother, Lieu Dan, tells her granddaughter, Huong, about the horrors she experienced from the 1930s through the 1950s, including the Japanese invasion, the Great Hunger, and the Land Reform.
The granddaughter, Huong, begins her story in 1972, when she is twelve years old. She tells of life with her grandmother during the Vietnam War. Their two voices together create a sweeping family saga of suffering and fear, but also of great love, sacrifice, and determination to survive.
The author is a native of Vietnam, and she gives the novel a cultural authenticity that can't be faked. There's a naturalness in her inclusion of the food, clothing, social customs, devotion to family, and numerous proverbs that are unique to Vietnamese life.
By the time I finished the novel I had forgotten what was said in the author's dedication at the beginning. When I went back and re-read that dedication, it brought me to tears, as I realized that the seed of this story came from her own family's lived experience. She states that the characters are wholly fictional, but it's clear that their struggles mirror reality.
Here is part of that dedication:
"For my grandmother, who perished in the Great Hunger; for my grandfather, who died because of the Land Reform; and for my uncle, whose youth the Vietnam War consumed."
Available March 17, 2020
NOTE: Shortly after I wrote this review, the author posted the details of her writing journey. After reading her post, I believe her process must be included in my overall assessment of the book, and I am therefore adding the fifth star. Knowing the context of her experience will enrich your involvement with the novel. She has a heart full of love for her country and was willing to face any challenges to share the story of Vietnam and her people. I encourage you to read her post here:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
October 26, 2020
Do you ever read a book that is so impactful you don’t have words? That was this book. I believe this was the first book I’ve read about the Vietnam War but definitely won’t be my last.
The Mountain Sing is a great story with so much emotion and struggle. I liked how different characters stories were told. The Mountain Sing is a moving, intense, and emotional story with family conflict, different political views, and loss. The Vietnam War is going on, so there is the expected loss and struggles. Having family members on both sides of the war really added to the story. A son wouldn’t talk to his mom, so she made her granddaughter run deliveries to him.
I listened to the audiobook narrated by Quyen Ngo and I loved her narration so much. Her tone and voice could not have been more perfect for this story. The narration was so beautiful and added to an excellent story.
Thank you NetGalley and Dreamscape Media for The Mountains Sing.
Full review: https://justreadingjess.wordpress.com...
The Mountain Sing is a great story with so much emotion and struggle. I liked how different characters stories were told. The Mountain Sing is a moving, intense, and emotional story with family conflict, different political views, and loss. The Vietnam War is going on, so there is the expected loss and struggles. Having family members on both sides of the war really added to the story. A son wouldn’t talk to his mom, so she made her granddaughter run deliveries to him.
I listened to the audiobook narrated by Quyen Ngo and I loved her narration so much. Her tone and voice could not have been more perfect for this story. The narration was so beautiful and added to an excellent story.
Thank you NetGalley and Dreamscape Media for The Mountains Sing.
Full review: https://justreadingjess.wordpress.com...
March 29, 2020
Set in a split timeline, The Mountains Sing is about the survival of a family in Vietnam through famine, violence, war and hardship. Que Mai brings to life the conflict and divisions within the Tran family and their nation and helped me better understand 20th century Vietnamese history.
April 7, 2020
Some people find something hopeful in this book, but I am afraid that I do not. This book was relentlessly depressing, it was an episodic string of terrible events told alternately by Tran Dieu Lan and her granddaughter Huong. The Vietnamese have been victimized by the French, Japanese, Americans and each other. I’m really sorry I read this family saga of separation, starvation, war, rape, birth defects and assorted acts of cruelty. Maybe I just wasn’t in the mood for this degree of trauma. I received a free copy of this book from the publisher.
August 1, 2020
This book deserves all the stars and more. Beautifully and lyrically written, Nguyen Phan Que Mai’s English debut follows multiple generations of the Tran family against the background of Vietnam’s heartrending 20th century history. From the rise of the Communist government in North Vietnam to the years of conflict during the war itself, The Mountains Sing highlights the impact and cost of the events that led up to Vietnam War and the war itself on the Vietnamese people from their perspective while interweaving in the language and traditions of their culture.
I learned so much about the history of Vietnam during the 20th century from the Great Hunger to the Land Reform to the Vietnam War itself and the ravages each event rained down on the citizens of the country. Que Mai’s vivid descriptions and stunning writing transported me to Vietnam, and I felt that I traveled along with the Trans as they navigated their lives and attempted to survive unimaginable events. My favorite part of this book was learning more about the Vietnamese culture – the food, the many proverbs that are woven into their interactions, the landscape, and their connection with ancestors. Que Mai brings this all to life so effectively.
Before I read this book, I was familiar with the effects of the Vietnam War on the United States and the Americans who served there. While the Tran’s tale was often heartbreaking and terribly sad, I am so glad I read this book so that I am now more familiar with the same story from an entirely different perspective. As Que Mai so eloquently says, “if people were willing to read each other, and see the light of other cultures, there would be no war on earth.”
Everyone should read The Mountains Sing, not only as glimpse into Vietnam and its people, but also as a cautionary tale about the impact of decades-long conflict on the people actually living through it. While I have finished the Tran’s story (and needed lots of tissues), their experiences will stay with me for a very long time.
Listen to my podcast at https://www.thoughtsfromapage.com for fun author interviews including one with Que Mai. For more book reviews, check out my Instagram account: https://www.instagram.com/thoughtsfro....
I learned so much about the history of Vietnam during the 20th century from the Great Hunger to the Land Reform to the Vietnam War itself and the ravages each event rained down on the citizens of the country. Que Mai’s vivid descriptions and stunning writing transported me to Vietnam, and I felt that I traveled along with the Trans as they navigated their lives and attempted to survive unimaginable events. My favorite part of this book was learning more about the Vietnamese culture – the food, the many proverbs that are woven into their interactions, the landscape, and their connection with ancestors. Que Mai brings this all to life so effectively.
Before I read this book, I was familiar with the effects of the Vietnam War on the United States and the Americans who served there. While the Tran’s tale was often heartbreaking and terribly sad, I am so glad I read this book so that I am now more familiar with the same story from an entirely different perspective. As Que Mai so eloquently says, “if people were willing to read each other, and see the light of other cultures, there would be no war on earth.”
Everyone should read The Mountains Sing, not only as glimpse into Vietnam and its people, but also as a cautionary tale about the impact of decades-long conflict on the people actually living through it. While I have finished the Tran’s story (and needed lots of tissues), their experiences will stay with me for a very long time.
Listen to my podcast at https://www.thoughtsfromapage.com for fun author interviews including one with Que Mai. For more book reviews, check out my Instagram account: https://www.instagram.com/thoughtsfro....
May 27, 2020
My heart is aching. Powerfully told through the voices of a grandmother and her granddaughter this novel propels the reader into the heart of the Vietnamese people’s struggle to survive during their country’s turbulent political past. Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai’s writing is raw, unadorned and ‘rough around the edges’ which lends perfectly to this story’s brutal authenticity and power. A silent masterpiece that will enlighten readers to Vietnam life much like The Kite Runner did for Afghanistan. Not an easy read but, definitely, a must read!
September 18, 2023
"I realize that blood that is shed can't make blood flow again in other people's veins." This powerful quote comes from a man named Minh who grew up in North Vietnam, was a victim of the Land Reform in the 50's, immigrated to South Vietnam, and was conscripted to fight for the South in the late 60's. He was the oldest of six children and his niece Huong is one of our narrators along with the family matriarch, Minh's mother Tran Dieu Lan. Experience the turmoil in Vietnam in the 50's and the 70's with these brave women and their family. See the effects of Agent Orange and the forging of the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Heartbreaking and thought-provoking. If you loved Pachinko, this book is for you.
If you loved this book, be sure to check out the author's new release: Dust Child. Highly recommended on audio. 🎧
If you loved this book, be sure to check out the author's new release: Dust Child. Highly recommended on audio. 🎧
April 26, 2021
california will never be in a drought again after all the tears i shed over this book
November 10, 2021
Hands down, a must read!
Nguyen Phan Que Mai is an expert storyteller. I inhaled this book and when it ended I wanted more. The writing was exquisite and so was the storytelling. I was reminded, "THIS IS THE KIND OF BOOKS I LOVE READING!!!!" I inhaled this book by reading it in one day.
Filled with Vietnamese history, culture and heritage, I cannot recommend it enough.
Nguyen Phan Que Mai is an expert storyteller. I inhaled this book and when it ended I wanted more. The writing was exquisite and so was the storytelling. I was reminded, "THIS IS THE KIND OF BOOKS I LOVE READING!!!!" I inhaled this book by reading it in one day.
Filled with Vietnamese history, culture and heritage, I cannot recommend it enough.
February 21, 2022
“The war might destroy our houses, but it can’t extinguish our spirit.”
Maybe 1.5 stars
Did you ever feel so disappointed about a novel, a book which you thought you might enjoy reading, but eventually it turned out to be a really bad experience?
In fact, when I started reading The Mountains Sing I believed that this novel might be a good reading experience or even a quite meaningful book, despite the tragic story in its pages. Unfortunately, it ended up being a big disappointment.
Now, I can tell that maybe the story was not for me, that I am not that kind of reader who might enjoy a novel like this. That being said, I am going to talk about my own experience reading this book, and give the reasons why I didn't like it almost at all.
To begin with, we have two protagonists in this novel with their own stories, one in the past and the other one in the present: on one hand, we have the story of Guava, a young girl who is facing hard times during the Vietnam War; on the other hand, Guava's grandmother is telling her granddaughter the story of her own life during the past times, from 1930 or so to 1955 (which is the year at which Guava's story begins).
Both stories are strongly connected since both protagonists are part of the same family, and therefore, you are following their most important experiences through this period of time.
Thus, the novel is portraying the effects or consequences of wars, how people suffer due to these tragic events, and how they have to get through this situation despite everything. So far, the story sounds really catastrophic, sad and perhaps dramatic, and in fact, it is all these things and more. Unfortunately, it was precisely this characteristic in the novel which made me feel disappointed basically almost from the beginning, but why?
When I started reading this book I realized that the narrative was not complex – it was in fact really, really (really) easy to read. As a non-native English speaker who is far from being a fluent one, I can assure you that perhaps I only had to look up a few words and no more, and besides, I listened to the audiobook (whose narrator did an incredible job by the way) which was completely understandable to me. However, sometimes I had to google further information about the country during that period of time since unfortunately you don’t know almost anything about Vietnam history reading this book – I suppose it is not important to know more than superficial details about it. In short, there is no a developed historical context here.
In addition, the characters are not very well developed too, basically all of them are plain and one dimensional. This is not a big problem if you really want to talk about the situation by which our protagonists are going through, and not about the characters themselves, and actually, it was like that: the story is focused more on Guava's grandmother experiences, and not on the rest of the characters. For instance, in my experience, it is difficult to feel strong empathy for the characters since you don't really know them.
In a nutshell, we have neither memorable characters nor a complex story in this book, and so the only thing we have it is supposed to be a good plot. Unfortunately, again, this is not necessarily the truth.
The fact that every tragedy, every difficulty, basically every bad thing in the book has to be overcome by only one character, Guava's grandmother, doesn't feel genuine or true at some point. I remember when I read the first 60-70 pages, and the novel was being compelling; after that it turned out to be a boring and quite repetitive story.
Tragedy plus tragedy plus tragedy and repeat. As you can see, this constant repetition of the same events plus only one character who has to deal with them were definitely not my cup of tea at all.
Then, when I finished reading the novel, I continued reading the Acknowledgments, and the answer to my question suddenly appeared:
“The Mountains Sing is inspired by the experiences of my own family and those around me. I am grateful to my parents, my relatives, and many other Vietnamese who have shared with me their personal stories and continue to inspire me with their courage and compassion.”
In the previous paragraph, the author says that her novel was inspired by many personal stories from many people; I got it, but why is this novel portraying all these different testimonies in just one character? Since this happened here, the story feels quite unbelievable, unlikely to be true. Consequently, the more I read the novel, the more I felt so far away from it.
One last thing: there are some questions throughout the novel which don't have an answer once you have finished the book, and I am not talking about an open ending – it seems more as though the author had forgotten to give a resolution to these events or something like that.
I have to confess that I came across this novel only because it was our February pick in the book club where I am since 2020, otherwise I probably had not picked it up (I spend incredible moments with the book club though, and furthermore, sometimes you just need to say “why not?” to any novel, regardless of your personal taste).
Moreover, I somehow felt out of my element reading such a novel (if you have followed my previous readings, you can tell that), and yet almost the whole group agreed with me on the majority of my previous statements. So, in the end maybe it was not just me.
All in all, I cannot recommend this novel, however, the fact that this book was not for me doesn't mean that it will not be for you. My reading experience was this, but I truly hope my opinion doesn't ruin the experience for you.
Maybe 1.5 stars
Did you ever feel so disappointed about a novel, a book which you thought you might enjoy reading, but eventually it turned out to be a really bad experience?
In fact, when I started reading The Mountains Sing I believed that this novel might be a good reading experience or even a quite meaningful book, despite the tragic story in its pages. Unfortunately, it ended up being a big disappointment.
Now, I can tell that maybe the story was not for me, that I am not that kind of reader who might enjoy a novel like this. That being said, I am going to talk about my own experience reading this book, and give the reasons why I didn't like it almost at all.
To begin with, we have two protagonists in this novel with their own stories, one in the past and the other one in the present: on one hand, we have the story of Guava, a young girl who is facing hard times during the Vietnam War; on the other hand, Guava's grandmother is telling her granddaughter the story of her own life during the past times, from 1930 or so to 1955 (which is the year at which Guava's story begins).
Both stories are strongly connected since both protagonists are part of the same family, and therefore, you are following their most important experiences through this period of time.
Thus, the novel is portraying the effects or consequences of wars, how people suffer due to these tragic events, and how they have to get through this situation despite everything. So far, the story sounds really catastrophic, sad and perhaps dramatic, and in fact, it is all these things and more. Unfortunately, it was precisely this characteristic in the novel which made me feel disappointed basically almost from the beginning, but why?
When I started reading this book I realized that the narrative was not complex – it was in fact really, really (really) easy to read. As a non-native English speaker who is far from being a fluent one, I can assure you that perhaps I only had to look up a few words and no more, and besides, I listened to the audiobook (whose narrator did an incredible job by the way) which was completely understandable to me. However, sometimes I had to google further information about the country during that period of time since unfortunately you don’t know almost anything about Vietnam history reading this book – I suppose it is not important to know more than superficial details about it. In short, there is no a developed historical context here.
In addition, the characters are not very well developed too, basically all of them are plain and one dimensional. This is not a big problem if you really want to talk about the situation by which our protagonists are going through, and not about the characters themselves, and actually, it was like that: the story is focused more on Guava's grandmother experiences, and not on the rest of the characters. For instance, in my experience, it is difficult to feel strong empathy for the characters since you don't really know them.
In a nutshell, we have neither memorable characters nor a complex story in this book, and so the only thing we have it is supposed to be a good plot. Unfortunately, again, this is not necessarily the truth.
The fact that every tragedy, every difficulty, basically every bad thing in the book has to be overcome by only one character, Guava's grandmother, doesn't feel genuine or true at some point. I remember when I read the first 60-70 pages, and the novel was being compelling; after that it turned out to be a boring and quite repetitive story.
Tragedy plus tragedy plus tragedy and repeat. As you can see, this constant repetition of the same events plus only one character who has to deal with them were definitely not my cup of tea at all.
Then, when I finished reading the novel, I continued reading the Acknowledgments, and the answer to my question suddenly appeared:
“The Mountains Sing is inspired by the experiences of my own family and those around me. I am grateful to my parents, my relatives, and many other Vietnamese who have shared with me their personal stories and continue to inspire me with their courage and compassion.”
In the previous paragraph, the author says that her novel was inspired by many personal stories from many people; I got it, but why is this novel portraying all these different testimonies in just one character? Since this happened here, the story feels quite unbelievable, unlikely to be true. Consequently, the more I read the novel, the more I felt so far away from it.
One last thing: there are some questions throughout the novel which don't have an answer once you have finished the book, and I am not talking about an open ending – it seems more as though the author had forgotten to give a resolution to these events or something like that.
I have to confess that I came across this novel only because it was our February pick in the book club where I am since 2020, otherwise I probably had not picked it up (I spend incredible moments with the book club though, and furthermore, sometimes you just need to say “why not?” to any novel, regardless of your personal taste).
Moreover, I somehow felt out of my element reading such a novel (if you have followed my previous readings, you can tell that), and yet almost the whole group agreed with me on the majority of my previous statements. So, in the end maybe it was not just me.
All in all, I cannot recommend this novel, however, the fact that this book was not for me doesn't mean that it will not be for you. My reading experience was this, but I truly hope my opinion doesn't ruin the experience for you.
January 7, 2022
Per quasi un anno intero ho fatto la corte a questo libro: ho iniziato a leggerlo all'inizio di gennaio del 2021, per poi sospenderlo perché c'era sempre qualcosa di più urgente da leggere e poi perché il mio lavoro non mi lascia poi tanto tempo libero.
Ma il libro ha continuato ad attrarmi e poi storytel è venuto in mio soccorso e il 21 dicembre 2021, Audiolibri Salani ha pubblicato l'audiolibro letto da Elettra Mallaby e Anna Cianca.
Che bella storia! Tra le più belle lette nel 2021.
Sullo sfondo della guerra del Vietnam, si narra la storia famiglia Trán.
Trán Diệu Lan, nata nel 1920, fu costretta a fuggire dalla fattoria di famiglia con i suoi sei figli durante la Riforma agraria quando il governo comunista insorse nel Nord del Paese. A causa della guerra, la famiglia Trán ha sofferto per tre generazioni: dalle soffertenze sopportate dalla nonna Diệu Lan fino a quelle affrontate dalla nipote Hương. E la nonna cercherà, nonostante tutte le prove che dovranno affrontare, ad incoraggiare e infondere speranza alla nipote
“Lei cerca di muoversi in quello spazio angusto e mi abbraccia. «Non lo so, mia cara.»
«Ma, se succede, noi moriremo, nonna?»
Mi stringe forte. «Guava, se bombarderanno la scuola, è possibile che il rifugio ci crollerà addosso, ma moriremo solo se Budda lo vorrà.»”
Un racconto truce e al tempo stesso delicato e ricco di poesia, un romanzo che invita a scongiurare le guerre:
“«Hương, vedendo l’acqua del fiume riempirsi del sangue di quei ragazzi, mi sono ritrovato a pensare alle madri e alle sorelle, alle loro lacrime e al loro dolore. Ho pensato a te, alla nonna, a tua mamma e ad Hạnh.
«Prima di quel giorno, odiavo a morte gli americani e i loro alleati. Li odiavo per aver bombardato la nostra gente, per aver ucciso civili innocenti. Ma da allora ho odiato la guerra, Hương.»
Ciò che disse mio zio mi fece pensare. Anche io avevo odiato l’America. Eppure, leggendo i loro libri, mi ero imbattuta in un altro aspetto di quel popolo: la loro umanità. Mi ero convinta che, se le persone avessero cominciato a leggere e a scoprire le culture degli altri popoli, non ci sarebbero più state guerre.
«Forse è stata proprio la compassione per il nemico che, più avanti, mi ha salvato la vita.»”
Questo romanzo mi ha molto commossa, non solo per le vicende raccontate, ma anche per il rapporto che c'è tra la nonna e la nipote: nella figura forte di Diệu Lan ho visto la mia nonna e come Hương anche io ho avuto la fortuna di "godermela" fino alla fine dei suoi giorni. E lei dal cielo continua a benedirmi e a proteggermi:
“La nonna una volta mi ha detto che le sfide affrontate dal popolo vietnamita nel corso della Storia sono come una montagna altissima. Io ne sono abbastanza lontana per scorgerne la vetta, ma ne sono ancora abbastanza vicina da accorgermi che adesso quella montagna è mia nonna: sempre davanti a noi, sempre forte, sempre qui per proteggerci.”
Ma il libro ha continuato ad attrarmi e poi storytel è venuto in mio soccorso e il 21 dicembre 2021, Audiolibri Salani ha pubblicato l'audiolibro letto da Elettra Mallaby e Anna Cianca.
Che bella storia! Tra le più belle lette nel 2021.
Sullo sfondo della guerra del Vietnam, si narra la storia famiglia Trán.
Trán Diệu Lan, nata nel 1920, fu costretta a fuggire dalla fattoria di famiglia con i suoi sei figli durante la Riforma agraria quando il governo comunista insorse nel Nord del Paese. A causa della guerra, la famiglia Trán ha sofferto per tre generazioni: dalle soffertenze sopportate dalla nonna Diệu Lan fino a quelle affrontate dalla nipote Hương. E la nonna cercherà, nonostante tutte le prove che dovranno affrontare, ad incoraggiare e infondere speranza alla nipote
“Lei cerca di muoversi in quello spazio angusto e mi abbraccia. «Non lo so, mia cara.»
«Ma, se succede, noi moriremo, nonna?»
Mi stringe forte. «Guava, se bombarderanno la scuola, è possibile che il rifugio ci crollerà addosso, ma moriremo solo se Budda lo vorrà.»”
Un racconto truce e al tempo stesso delicato e ricco di poesia, un romanzo che invita a scongiurare le guerre:
“«Hương, vedendo l’acqua del fiume riempirsi del sangue di quei ragazzi, mi sono ritrovato a pensare alle madri e alle sorelle, alle loro lacrime e al loro dolore. Ho pensato a te, alla nonna, a tua mamma e ad Hạnh.
«Prima di quel giorno, odiavo a morte gli americani e i loro alleati. Li odiavo per aver bombardato la nostra gente, per aver ucciso civili innocenti. Ma da allora ho odiato la guerra, Hương.»
Ciò che disse mio zio mi fece pensare. Anche io avevo odiato l’America. Eppure, leggendo i loro libri, mi ero imbattuta in un altro aspetto di quel popolo: la loro umanità. Mi ero convinta che, se le persone avessero cominciato a leggere e a scoprire le culture degli altri popoli, non ci sarebbero più state guerre.
«Forse è stata proprio la compassione per il nemico che, più avanti, mi ha salvato la vita.»”
Questo romanzo mi ha molto commossa, non solo per le vicende raccontate, ma anche per il rapporto che c'è tra la nonna e la nipote: nella figura forte di Diệu Lan ho visto la mia nonna e come Hương anche io ho avuto la fortuna di "godermela" fino alla fine dei suoi giorni. E lei dal cielo continua a benedirmi e a proteggermi:
“La nonna una volta mi ha detto che le sfide affrontate dal popolo vietnamita nel corso della Storia sono come una montagna altissima. Io ne sono abbastanza lontana per scorgerne la vetta, ma ne sono ancora abbastanza vicina da accorgermi che adesso quella montagna è mia nonna: sempre davanti a noi, sempre forte, sempre qui per proteggerci.”
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