Something I wrote many years ago
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A Personal Manifesto:
I write to define myself
(just for fun, "Ce n'est que pour rire, mesdames, messieurs...")
(Open) letter to the leaders of a(n) (imagined) Creative Writing Faculty at a(n) (imagined) (US-based?) University
(Draft, junk, improvised and (unbridled?) version)
To Whom It May Concern:
My name is Tran Tien Cao Dang (Tran is my last name, Dang my first name, Tien Cao my middle name).
I was born in 1965. I am working as an editor for the Vietnam-based online newspaper VietNamNet. I have published a short stories collection titled “Baroque and the Hidden Flower” (2005). As a translator, I have translated two books by some of the world's leading authors, namely, Milorad Pavic's “Dictionary of the Khazars”, and Haruki Murakami's “The Wind-up Bird Chronicle”. My latest translation, which will be published by the end of this year, is Kazuo Ishiguro's “Never Let Me Go”. I am now working on the translation of Franz Herbert’s “Dune”, one of the classic science fiction novels. My main foreign languages are English and Russian. I can read French, Spanish, Japanese, and a little Italian.
I am now working on a novel, my first one.
I am happy to write this letter to you on behalf of myself, a writer.
Why do I write?
I write to define myself, re-define myself, to regain my authentic identity, emancipating myself from the false identity imposed on me by others, the so-called mainstream, or what O. Pamuk refers to in his Nobel Lecture as the “center” of the world.
Vietnamese writers are so often thought of as being pre-ordained with a limited agenda to carry out throughout their writing life. This agenda consists of, namely: war, post-war conditions, totalitarianism, and, in a condescending goodwill action to allow for a picture of a somehow “full-fledge” culture, some exotic elements such as water puppets and Vietnam’s unique chèo or tuồng drama.
I’m too fed up with this faked destiny that is so unworthy to me.
What I am doing is to regain my authentic voice, develop it to its right power, and raise it to the right altitude, where it will be clearly heard and properly recognized by the world.
Here a sentence I read from an online document: “I was so consumed by reality to afford fantasy”. Well-said! I myself have for such a long time been “so consumed by reality to afford fantasy”, being caught in the trivial daily issues, but I’m now striving to get over it, to break through and lift myself to the point where I can take off with all the power of fantasy that has always been lying untapped inside me and the main, vital part of my so far unactualized self.
Now I know I can say the same as Pamuk did in his recent Nobel Lecture. For me, Vietnam is not any marginal part of the world. It is the center of the world. Similarly, we Vietnamese are not any Others to the rest of the world - implicitly, to the West. We are among the most authentic and qualified dwellers of the world. Here I live and write, creating, exploring, watching the growth of, and developing myself in, the entire multitude of imaginable and unimaginable worlds and realities.
These worlds are the territory where readers from all other corners of the world will not find an Otherness - a war-torn Vietnam, a post-colonial, totalitarianism-ridden Vietnam, an exotic, “unexplored” Vietnam, a “young tiger” Vietnam, you name it -, but rather another, strikingly alien yet disturbingly similar to their own world.
My project - my ongoing novel - is to create a multireality, multiuniverse version of what exists. The idea itself is far from “new” and unique, of course. The newness of the idea itself is not my concern. What essentially costs is the way the idea is developed and comes into full being, the way images, fantasies, emotions, passions, speculations, insights are added to it as bone, flesh, veins and blood are to a soul.
I am fully aware that many will find my future novel unsatisfying in the sense that it does not give a portray of Vietnam as they expected: no war atrocities, neither war victims nor war veterans, no retired generals, no bribing officials, no disappointed intellectuals, no would-be dissidents, no young people eagerly grasping the opportunities brought about by WTO and globalization.
This having been said, who knows, here and there in my novel this or that of all the abovementioned elements can be touched, yet it will be clear to readers that these are far from being what the novel is all about.
Here what I am doing: to discard any predetermined notion about the so-called Vietnam, to deconstruct any assumption of what a Vietnamese novel should be and should not be.
Anyone who couldn't imagine that a Vietnamese writer could afford to devote herself to, say, writing science fiction, will feel compelled to change his way of thinking as soon as he faces this kind of writing.
This kind of writing I am creating will partake in the workings of the world in such a way to adjust the common perception of one of its integral parts: in fact, I myself and Vietnamese writers like me are working to help change the world.
Naturally, it would be good for to me if I could attend a creative writing at your organization. It would be a good opportunity to me to see the world, physically. The world, which I know so intimately through words, sounds, and images, will present itself before me in all its mighty liveliness, infinite diversity, and rigorous beauty.
Of course, I’m not so stupid as to expect that such a trip will change my writing in a magical manner.
Instead, the trip would be, I think, one into larger dimensions of myself, one that would provide me with a deeper insight into the vaster realm which I would be able to partially fill with my own being.
In other words, this would help me strengthen the universal quality of my writing.
If, on the other hand, the trip would not be granted to me for this or that reason, I still have other, equally good ways to “attain the universal”, for, more than anyone else, I am fully aware of my free will and creative power.
The seed of something undefined and, although I’m barely aware of it at the present, much greater and better than me, has chosen to dwell within me, and it’s my responsibility to make it grow to the largest possible extent of its being.
Thanks for your kind(est) attention,
