A man of letters
THE SINGULARLY NAMED Nhat-Tien has been a voice of conscience for
Vietnamese.
September 23,
2000
Story by QUYEN DO
Photo by ERIC McCANDLESS JR.
Special to the Register
He has a one-name first name ... kind of like Madonna or Cher.
Novelist Nhat-Tien would not be recognized by any other reference.
It could be said that the stories by the award-winning writer
almost mirror his life. Nhat-Tien's famous short stories bespeak more
of sadness than joy. While there are no heroes, the characters find
solace in their own convictions. About a dozen of his works have been
translated in English, French and German.
Revered by many as a versatile man of letters, Nhat- Tien became a
controversial figure when he first promoted reconciliation and trade
relations in the late 1980s. He was further alienated from his
community when the Vietnamese Communist government selected
Nhat-Tien's novel, along with other Nobel Prize winners, to use in
high school curriculum in 1994. Some even dragged his book, which
promoted the work of Vietnamese dissident writers, through Bolsa.
Yet like the narratives in his stories about man's destiny, after
the fall, there is chance for vindication. A decade later, public
opinion about Nhat-Tien's work is shifting. His vision for a better
Vietnam is embraced by thousands who visit their homeland annually.
Last year, Nhat-Tien was named as one of Vietnam's most significant
writers in a seven-volume book, "History and Literature of South
Vietnam." Changing times and attitudes have also revived the
popularity of his writings.
"My friends called to tell me my stories were being read on
air," Nhat-Tien says in his book-filled Garden Grove home.
"So I turned on the radio and listened. It was a surprise."
This ironic turn does not seem to surprise Nhat-Tien, who seems to
understand how the cycle of favorite-son-turned-infamous-author works.
He has been in the public arena before. At age 24, Nhat-Tien won
Vietnam's prestigious Giai Van Chuong Toan Quoc, similar to the
Pulitzer Prize, for his novel, "Them Hoang," which means
"Wild Threshold." His book was required reading for
Vietnamese students before 1975. After the fall of Saigon, his writing
turned the world's attention to the boat people's horrific accounts of
pirate attacks on the Gulf of Thailand in 1979.
"It is the responsibility of the person who holds the
pen," says Nhat-Tien, referring to his book, "Piracy on the
Gulf of Siam," published in the United States in 1981. His
reporting, along with that of two other journalists, led to
international rescue missions to protect refugees at sea in the early
1980s.
"It left painful scars in the lives of many people." For
more than five years, Nhat-Tien's own avoidance of publicity and his
refusal to play any sort of literary role have fueled the notion that
he, too, was scarred by the fury his work evoked.
"I think the attacks discouraged him. Before that, he was very
active in speaking for human rights, very involved in literature and
publishing," recalls Yen Do, former publisher of Nguoi Viet, the
largest daily Vietnamese newspaper in the United States. "Nhat-Tien
was a pioneer. His ideas were ahead of time. Now people see that he
was correct all along. I think it was very courageous of him."
Five minutes from the bustling Little Saigon district in
Westminster, Nhat-Tien lives on a quiet cul-de-sac with a spacious
back yard where his two poodles run free. He is dressed in his
habitual attire of white dress shirt and dark pants. He smiles easily
and moves with a quiet confidence, carrying a lithe athletic frame
that belies his age, 64. Family photographs and arts and crafts by his
seven grandchildren are displayed throughout his home.
Speaking publicly for the first time, Nhat-Tien says he is "semiretired"
and is working on a historical novel of Vietnam, from the 1954 Geneva
Conference to present day. He acknowledges that he finds peace through
his writing and says he doesn't harbor resentment toward those who
opposed him.
"I have lived through the years of war since my childhood so I
understand their hurt," Nhat-Tien says. "They have the right
to express their opinions just as I have the right to say mine."
The author was also among the first to visit his country in 1990.
After seeing the impoverished conditions, he spoke out in favor of
normalizing trade relations with Vietnam, a stance that drew a barrage
of criticisms from the Little Saigon community.
"I was saddened by it - not for myself personally,"
Nhat-Tien says. "I think the bickering slows down the progress we
make for the younger generation. ... Vietnam is like a closed box
filled with suffocating poison. In order to make it better, you have
to poke holes in it and let the fresh air come in. ... To have people
travel in and out, to bring in a new economy. That's the only way that
people living there could eventually have a better life."
Nhat-Tien's seven grown children describe him as a tireless
champion for the underdogs and the defenseless. His youngest son,
entrepreneur Tru Michael Nhat-Tien, 39, says his father would often
clip out articles for his children about social unrest in the world.
"I think he wants to remind us not to take life for
granted," Tru says.
For Nhat-Tien, the sorrow began early in his life. When he was 11,
he lost his mother and a younger brother in an air bombing in Phu Tho,
North Vietnam. He never thought his writing would go beyond his
tattered journal. Though the painful memories would eventually color
more than 22 books and short story collections written since his
youth. His first two novels were moving accounts of the lives of
orphans. Both sold out their first printing.
They also caught the attention of Nhat Linh, Vietnam's renowned
contemporary writer, who later published his award-winning book,
"Them Hoang." The novel provides a poignant and evocative
view of the lives in a neighborhood transformed by war. "He was a
great spiritual support when I first started out," Nhat-Tien
says. "I admired his work, but he was also very political. And I
did not follow his path, in this regard."
Instead, Nhat-Tien followed his heart and produced the nation's
first children's publication. Nhat-Tien remembers his happiest years
as editor in chief of the weekly magazine, Thieu Nhi (Teens), an
educational and entertainment publication for teen-agers in 1969-75.
"My wife had her own column in it," he says, breaking
into a tender smile. "All my kids were involved in the magazine
in one aspect or another. I was most proud that it was a forum for
entertaining kids as well as educating them."
