Author: Ocean Vuong
Rating: 2/5
Written as a letter to his mother, Little Dog recounts his childhood and adolescent years exploring what it means to be a human being.
Spoilers ahead.
Detailed Summary
Little Dog writes a letter to his mother, Rose, even though she doesn’t read English. Rose used to hit Little Dog, potentially because of the PTSD she had from the Vietnam War. At the time of writing this letter, Little Dog is 28 years old (and 5’4″ which makes me happy because it’s not very tall). At school, Little Dog is somewhat bullied. Rose works in a nail salon and always says sorry. Lan, Little Dog’s grandmother, lives with them too. They keep in touch with Paul who’s Little Dog’s grandfather but maybe not by blood because Lan was a prostitute in Vietnam to make ends meet. When Little Dog is 14, he works on a tobacco farm and meets Trevor, Mr. Buford’s grandson (Buford is the owner of the farm). Trevor is two years older (I think?) and they become friends. Their relationship becomes more and they have “fake” sex. Trevor lives with his father who’s an alcoholic. Trevor also gets addicted to drugs. Little Dog comes out to his mother who’s worried he’ll have a hard life and that he’ll want to wear dresses now. Lan is diagnosed with bone cancer. Little Dog thinks of Trevor and losing his virginity to him and it’s painful. He also feels his bowels release and is humiliated but Trevor takes him to the river and they do more stuff. In class at college, Little Dog learns of Trevor’s death (it was an overdose) via social media and comes home and cries. Lan dies and Little Dog and Rose go to Vietnam to spread her ashes. He wakes to hear sounds of people celebrating. Little Dog can remember his first Thanksgiving where he coloured in cows differently. He also remembers his father beating Rose up. The book ends with Little Dog running like the buffaloes but they become monarch butterflies and he and Rose laugh.
Plot and Pacing
Words can’t describe just how badly I wanted to like this book! Especially after watching this interview:
I’m definitely in the minority in not liking this book and I’m trying to understand what specifically impeded my enjoyment. The book doesn’t exactly have a plot but that’s okay! It’s very much slice-of-life and discusses the immigrant experience and how severe an impact PTSD can have on you. It’s about sexuality and coming to terms with your identity, about growing up and accepting all the sadness the world has to offer.
I guess I just couldn’t get on board with the writing (more on that later) and the structure of the novel. I prefer books with a linear narrative rather than constantly jumping around every few paragraphs or so. I also struggled to engage with any of the characters despite being an immigrant in a Western country. I don’t know, this book just wasn’t for me which is a real shame.
There were some bits that I did like. Little Dog’s name, for instance, was so sweet. There’s a tradition where the “weakest” child is named after the most horrendous things to keep the evil spirits away. By naming the narrator “Little Dog,” Lan and Rose had essentially given him the only shield they could give in a strange world. I thought that was quite powerful.
The sex scenes sent chills down my spine. Like, the bad kind. It’s been a while since I’ve read an intimate scene where one of the characters actually experiences pain and that was jolting to me since I’ve never, like, done anything lol and am now even more terrified than before.
Characters
As I said, I couldn’t really connect with the characters. Yes, they grappled with universal issues like identity and belonging (along with other more serious and specific topics–like PTSD and abuse) but I felt alienated from them. And I can’t say that I was really rooting for anyone? Which felt very strange. I’m always rooting for someone when I’m reading a book.
Writing Style
Vuong is a talented writer but this book was just a bit too flowery for me. I didn’t quite follow the monarch butterflies and buffaloes metaphors and, fine, I’ll admit, I caught myself skimming a few times because stream of consciousness isn’t my favourite thing to read. There’s a lot of honesty in this book and though it’s fiction, I’m willing to bet my life that Vuong drew upon a lot of personal experience. Vuong has a strong command of the language and deftly weaves words to form beautiful sentences–that interview is proof enough of that and I really hope I can emulate his speaking style–but this book, unfortunately, wasn’t for me.
Earnestly Eccentric 