I read “Singing” (Phuong Nam Book and Publisher of Writers Association released in the third quarter of 2014) in the late winter afternoons, the rain in the Central region is long and persistent. The flooding news quickly and with preliminary statistics about the damage both people and property kept flooding on the news sites … Stuffy, frustration and deadlock to the extreme is my feeling at that time until now I also find it difficult to explain and analyze clearly why: Is it because Singing is good because it is the sight of our people suffering from natural disasters and human disasters? I was just as ambiguous, very well aware that both of these elements were like a chord, resonating together to create that tension in me. Want to write something for the current mood that lingers forever … until today.
Trần Nhã Thụy, my name is not strange even though it is actually the song that my brother first touched. Critics, colleagues in the aftermath tea, literary talks that I attended once mentioned that he is a writer who has defined his “voice”. I was curious to want to feel the way Tran Nha Thuy determined how her voice was determined … I don’t know due to the fragmented structure of the novel, or I lost my concentration to be seduced. I spent a few hours appraising the music in Singing through reading through a series of novels that I suddenly felt worn out, confused and seemed unable to determine the purpose that Tran Nha Thuy directed. Feeling in me right now is just a sad story, human condition is also so sad that it is paranoid, disbanded … Indeed: How many shattered / Team to sing … “- (quoted from Hoang Hung poem).
“I ask you, when we die, which senses will die last”
“I don’t know, you say it.”
“Lazy thinking too much. Can you suggest: the eyes, the nose, or the ears? ”
… “Well, let me just say it.” The last sense that disappears when one dies is hearing. It means that when we no longer see with our eyes, we no longer smell our nose, we have all paralysis, so people can still hear. ”
This is a dialogue in Tran Nha Thuy’s singing. How so?! Why when people no longer see with the eyes, no longer smell by the nose, are paralyzed all the taste buds, can people still hear? Nha Thuy seems to want us to contact the novel primarily by listening hard – listening to the sounds, the levels of life melting, limping around us. Perhaps so the whole Song is a special chord!
An unemployed engineer named Ky, wandering life with a bit of savings to send to the bank, neglected to work with the outside job is very “singing”, very trendy but actually, nowhere. This guy’s life is like being cornered all the time, idle, even lacking air. At times of inspiration, what is most worth living is when he returns to nature, with the Ca trù tunes of Kinh Bắc and with a short-lived pleasure after a few moments of love …
… Then even the bland world around Ky is full of the kind of people we have encountered somewhere in this contemporary life. A Hoang Thanh real estate businessman is a little romantic – Gypsy is very romantic; a disguised hoodlum with a guise of spiritual life; a form of intellectuals who know how to take advantage of and find ways to take advantage of the public; a young Miss Ly who was once mistaken in love should always yearn for love; a respectable professional fried musician Dung just need to look at the general to guess the mind, choose the music that always suits the customers; a remote girl in Vien Trinh province wants to be famous, advancing fast with entertaining games, trading off the body for men with good taste; a young girl who sings in her native Xuan Huong naive in the middle of life and then was swept away by the flow of life … Everything is like a miniature society mixed, chaotic, tired, weak … Feel the emptiness and meaninglessness keep clinging to them, abolishing them. Being paranoid of the rushing events happening to them cannot make them feel a bit positive in life. The way that Tran Nha Thuy sketches about the character world of “Singing” reminds me of Tran Anh Thai’s “Ten and One Nights”, to Thuan’s “Pari 11.8”. It was as if in this densely concentrated space there was an invisible thread somewhere controlling them, enticing them and themselves to no longer be able to search for themselves, so they were stuck, their bodies were shaped. post-modern, soulless, meaningless character type.
I folded the pages but I still seemed to hear the whispers from a lifetime echo. Is it possible to write Sing, Tran Nha Thuy has been able to hear the sad complex sounds not by ear but with the mind, with sensitivity and anxiety anxious before the uncertainties of life. It is Tran Nha Thuy’s ignorance of overwhelming sorrows, ignoring the tedious life frames that surround her, causing readers to stray into a world of imagination, only to think they reach the end. despair again felt light escape.