Light Out and Modern Vietnamese Stories, 1930–1954 offers the contemporary reader an honest glimpse of a period in Vietnam history characterized by corruption, exploitation, dehumanization, poverty, and starvation. The Vietnamese texts, both a novella and accompanying short stories, not only delineate the immediate influence of French colonization on the sociopolitical functions of Vietnam, an enterprise solely designed for its economic potential, but also expose the extending impact on the quotidian lives of proletarians, particularly the peasantry.
The 18 complementary short stories in Light Out and Modern Vietnamese Stories, 1930–1954, carefully selected by the translators Quan Manh Ha and Paul Christiansen, do not highlight a single common theme addressed in the novella Light Out by Ngô Tất Tố; rather, each story explores its own social issue, and, as a whole, the collection paints a complete picture of the historical period with a variety of perspectives. However educational the book may be, by no means is it a pleasant read, as the dominating pessimism, gloomy picture, and blunt and unembellished language reinvigorate a tragic and tumultuous period in Vietnamese history.
A brutal look into the misery of the peasantry under French colonization
As the centerpiece of the book, ‘Light Out’ (Tắt đèn) serves as the predominant text, extensively outlining the Vietnamese experience during colonial Vietnam under the French. Though beginning with a glimpse of farm workers’ quotidian life, the pastoral scene is suddenly disrupted by a conflict instigated by their masters’ unpaid poll taxes. Immediately, the novella addresses an issue permeating colonial Vietnam: the exorbitant taxes levied on the Vietnamese peasantry by the French, while denouncing the economic and local political corruption and labor exploitation experienced by titled workers.
In Light Out, this is evident when the aforementioned plowmen receive undue punishments on behalf of their masters’ negligence with tax payments, or when the village mayor who, in the midst of a vehement argument, admits to fraud implemented through tax collection. Such corruption is extended in Nguyễn Công Hoan’s included ‘Carrion Eaters’ (Thịt người chết) by the coroner, who abuses his position to seek a disproportionate bribe from Mr. Cứu. Through their uncensored depictions of the foundational corruption in the system governing villages, many stories expose the systematic poverty imposed on the peasantry and delineate the oppression that impedes any means of escape or social advancement: simply, one is born a peasant and dies as a miserable peasant.
“Famine and hunger are so prevalent in both the novella and the short stories that starvation becomes the norm — and even banal. Perhaps even more terrifying is the thought that these scenes reflect the actual social situation during colonial Vietnam; they are but a glimpse of historical reality.”
With a cycle of poverty, the peasantry are inevitably thrust into destitution, where hunger becomes a regularly endured hardship. This state is a salient issue sustained throughout the book, from Dần’s tantrums and Mrs. Dậu’s struggle to produce milk for Tỉu in Light Out to the beggar’s resolve to eat from a dog’s bowl in Nguyễn Công Hoan’s ‘The Teeth of an Upper-Class Family’s Dog’ (Răng con chó nhà tư sản) or Mai’s immodest sacrifice impelled by desperation in Thạch Lam’s ‘Hunger’ (Đói). The living conditions of peasantry are aptly characterized as a state of constant privation, and the writers deliver the brutal reality directly without euphemistic expressions nor beautifying the situation. One can only shudder at the gut-wrenching scene of starved villagers littering the street market that Kim Lân so matter-of-factly depicts in ‘Common-Law Wife’ (Vợ nhặt). In fact, famine and hunger are so prevalent in both the novella and the short stories that starvation becomes the norm — and even banal. Perhaps even more terrifying is the thought that these scenes reflect the actual social situation during colonial Vietnam; they are but a glimpse of historical reality.
Ironically, the only suffering depicted in all stories is strictly that of humans, particularly the proletarians, and especially the peasantry. Never is the reader’s sympathy invoked through the hardship of an animal on the brink of starvation. In fact, the death of any animal, for that matter, is simply absent from all stories in the book, except for the brief mention of the death of Mr. Hoàng’s German shepherd in Nam Cao’s ‘The Eyes’ (Đôi mắt), which is ascribed to the consumption of hazardous waste rather than starvation. The living conditions of animals are presented in a manner that generally supersede those of the peasantry.
In ‘Light Out,’ while the Dậu family endures punitive consequences for unpaid taxes, the mother dog earns no whipping for she has no monetary responsibility, and when Mrs. Dậu visits Deputy Quế’s house, she observes in the courtyard pigeons, sows, and chickens living an undisturbed and luxurious lifestyle, one that drastically contrasts the penury conditions of the Dậu family. In ‘The Teeth of an Upper-Class Family’s Dog,’ while Lu, the Braque d’Auvergne, is regularly fed by its owner, the beggar is in critical condition due to hunger. Such intentional juxtaposition addresses the demeaning aspect of the severity of the peasantry’s living condition, for it presents savage creatures as objects of envy. The severity is only intensified by the recurring presence of the rooster in ‘Light Out,’ who is neither worried of financial burdens nor interrupted amidst the submission of his glorious crow. The symbolic presence of the rooster denotes that even the rooster leads a better life than any peasant.
Portrait of Ngô Tất Tố as featured in the early 1940s in Nhà Văn Hiện Đại. Image via Wikimedia.
The perils of forced westernization
As delineated, many of the stories explore the implications of French colonialism and its immediate impact on the general functions of local villages and the lives of villagers, though they prompt a rather simple question: where are the French? Rather than directly addressing or portraying a French figure, many stories portray the overbearing presence of the French through depictions of foreign influence on the daily operations of business and life, such as the use of the western counting method, calendar, and clock, or the western clothes among the colonial landowners and other bourgeoisie. Such prevalence of western influence forms a dichotomy between the old ways (i.e., folk customs and traditional methods upheld by Vietnam before French colonization) and the new ways (i.e., imported western traditions and methods), a division which advances the debate of what old ways to maintain and what new ways to adopt.
Yet, with the rapid westernization imposed on Vietnam by its dominating French colonizer, the Vietnamese public was forced to adopt the unfamiliar new ways with no compromise. This manner of westernization and its immediate consequences are heavily criticized in Light Out, as any implementation of the new way is always accompanied with errors and confusion: for instance, the western counting method, rather than the traditional oriental method, leads to numerous recalculations for the mayor or the sestern calendar, as opposed to the lunar calendar, which results in an additional financial burden that confuses Mrs. Dậu and even the Mandarin.
“In essence, the narratives call for a progressive re-examination of the state of cultural representation, both for the old and new, rather than an outright rejection of westernization.”
Vũ Trọng Phụng also plays on this absurdity in his ‘From Theory to Practice’ (Từ lý thuyết đến thực hành) by bluntly beginning the short story with “He was Westernized,” only to then satirically proceed with refutations of the fact that expose the hypocrisy practiced by the man. In each case, however, it is not the new way per se that is directly criticized but the underlying issue of user error caused by unfamiliarity with the new ways or the inability to completely abandon preference for certain old ways. Thus, in essence, the narratives call for a progressive re-examination of the state of cultural representation, both for the old and new, rather than an outright rejection of westernization.
With such saturation of suffering, this book becomes the voice on behalf of an illiterate population subject to anti-humanitarian actions and policies, invoking not only sentiments of sympathy and justice but also a spirit of revolution and reform. Further enlarging the literary significance of the book is the copious representation of early 20th-century Vietnamese authors paired with a nuanced translation that delivers to the reader the Vietnamese writers’ perspectives on the colonial period of Vietnam in an accessible form. This book is a substantial contribution to the limited selection of translated Vietnamese literature that may only be described as a triumph in literary history.
