Five decades after the United States withdrew its troops from Vietnam, the ripple effects linger. In 2020, a hushed part of Vietnamese history was given major attention, not by a historian but by a poet-novelist: Nguyen Phan Que Mai, with her English debut, The Mountains Sing, which examines post-war Vietnam, the lives of the victims, and the 1960s land reform which pauperized landowners. She shines the light on Agent Orange, the herbicides America sprayed in South Vietnam to decimate vegetation believed to harbor ‘enemy’ troops. Because of this environmental attack, Vietnamese forests and seas were destroyed. Seafood was contaminated, and Vietnamese who ate these foods suffered health problems. 

Nguyen Phan Que Mai returns with her second English novel, Dust Child, which focuses on the war and its aftermath. But this installment centers on the voices of children born by Vietnamese women to American soldiers. These children, unlike other Vietnamese, aren’t fair enough; their darker tones mark them out as outcasts. They are dismissed as something from the dust, something worthless, and many do not know their parents because their mothers abandoned them to escape stigmatization. These children are left in the care of orphanages. Que Mai writes this story from a place of kindness and understanding. Her language is picturesque. She illustrates how war upends the bodies, spirits, and souls of its victims. And we, the readers, become witnesses; we join the people in their journey to survival.

In the opening scene, we meet Phong, a black-Vietnamese man, at the American embassy. It is sometime in 2016 and Phong is trying to get a visa to leave Vietnam for a fresh start in the United States, the land of the father he doesn’t know. While filling out his form, he claims, as advised by his agent, that he had never been denied a US visa, but the consular calls out the lie: he previously tried leaving the country with those who weren’t eligible for the Amerasian Act. This was at a time his look alone would have proven that he is a child of an American soldier. So, his visa application is denied, and he is asked to return with proof (DNA) of his Amerasian identity. To get such proof, he must see his father, the father he never met. 

We also meet two sisters, Trang and Quynh, in rural Vietnam, in 1969. The war is raging, and poverty is rife. A friend from the city offers these sisters a new lease in the city. They announce their decision to their parents, whose lives are weighed down by debts. Their mother feebly tries to dissuade them, but their father sees the trip to the city as an opportunity for financial success. In the city, the sisters become “bar girls,” a code for sex work, which is considered taboo. And their patrons are the American soldiers in Vietnam, who have the money to pay for such services. 

We are also introduced to Daniel, a white American helicopter pilot, who returns to Vietnam with his wife, Linda. They are here to tour the country, but during this trip, Daniel is haunted by the memories of a young Vietnamese woman he had a love child with and abandoned. 

Through Phong, Trang, Quynh, and Daniel, the author draws intersections between these intricate parts of Vietnamese history. Que Mai moves between the past and the present, providing answers to questions her characters ask. This brilliant structure also allows her to beam light on modern tourism, the peril of the American dream, and the fetishization of Asian women. Her representation of the “bar girls” is contrary to the images we have been pelted with over the years. These women do not come off as exotic sexual objects or helpless victims. Que Mai gives them agency. She weaves these stories without judgment; she achieves this by humanizing the characters. The American veterans, the Amerasians, and their mothers exist on their own terms. The three threads come together, and the reader sees that the stories aren’t as simple or parallel as they seem.

This is a novel about love and sacrifices. And love here is not just personal or familial but for the country. With this heartrending, decades-spanning, page-turning saga, Que Mai has delivered a classic piece of literature whose lifespan will spread a thousand-fold.

About the Reviewer:

Olukorede S Yishau is the author of In The Name of Our Father, Vaults of Secrets and United Countries of America and Other Travel Tales. He lives in Houston,  Texas.