Thank you for reading, and for the compliment. Ugresic will be a huge influence on many upcoming works. There seems to be a real demand for travel essays and fiction today.
Thank you, Trey. Edited by the best. If you're looking for a good audiobook (I think the first time we connected was over audiobook recs, listen to Robert Boyers’ The Tyranny of Virtue. Very important book.
That means a lot Janine. And thank you for reading so loyally. Bob Boyers is good at assigning prompts. I pitched several very highly theoretical essays, which he was interested in, then he wrote simply: “Living in Hanoi. I want to read about that.” A good editor can stretch an author the extra mile. It's an honour working with him. And the March edition essay is already finished!
So very relatable even though we are of different generations and left Canada for different reasons, in the end it seems there is no going back. It couldn’t hold us then, nor is it possible for it to lure us back.
It’s also interesting that we both had something to say about Hanoi this week. A sign, perhaps, of something that lives inside of all writers—this need to search and never really settle?
This may be the best piece of writing you've done yet. I've never had any desire to visit Hanoi, but reading your essay makes me want to pack my bags and embark on an adventure there.
I like the way you draw on Kristeva, the foreigner as an inner figure, a hidden face of identity. I find myself wondering, though, whether it is less a refusal of assimilation than a position deliberately kept in play. Perhaps living abroad doesn’t so much make the foreigner visible as sharpen his outline.
When language and culture change, we don’t only alter how we speak; we may also rewire perception itself, even the way the body moves through space, don't we? Is that exile, or a kind of clarity?
And if assimilation occurs at all, can it really remain partial? It feels as though it is either total, chosen because one wants to belong fully, or else the foreigner remains intact, not as resistance, but as a form of internal sovereignty whose limits only the individual can know.
Thank you for reading, and for the compliment. Ugresic will be a huge influence on many upcoming works. There seems to be a real demand for travel essays and fiction today.
Incredible writing. Gives me those inspiring butterflies only good writing can
Thank you, Trey. Edited by the best. If you're looking for a good audiobook (I think the first time we connected was over audiobook recs, listen to Robert Boyers’ The Tyranny of Virtue. Very important book.
A colleague told me about them. I’ve never been there in person.
As a poet in exile, I appreciate how beautifully this essay is written. Thank you, Brock.
Thank you, Mahdi. I would love to learn your story. I hope I can in your poems.
Thank you.
All the very best,
Brock
Do they still have sidewalk barbecues?
Oh yes . . . When were you in 'Nam, Ira?
Beautiful essay, Brock. Well written and deeply appreciated.
That means a lot Janine. And thank you for reading so loyally. Bob Boyers is good at assigning prompts. I pitched several very highly theoretical essays, which he was interested in, then he wrote simply: “Living in Hanoi. I want to read about that.” A good editor can stretch an author the extra mile. It's an honour working with him. And the March edition essay is already finished!
Yes. To see and to be seen. Keep going, Brock.
So very relatable even though we are of different generations and left Canada for different reasons, in the end it seems there is no going back. It couldn’t hold us then, nor is it possible for it to lure us back.
It’s also interesting that we both had something to say about Hanoi this week. A sign, perhaps, of something that lives inside of all writers—this need to search and never really settle?
This may be the best piece of writing you've done yet. I've never had any desire to visit Hanoi, but reading your essay makes me want to pack my bags and embark on an adventure there.
Ugresic as well, that's quite an accomplishment, Brock, congratulations!
This is a splendid essay, Brock: evocative, penetrating, stylishly written. I've shared a link on my Facebook wall.
I like the way you draw on Kristeva, the foreigner as an inner figure, a hidden face of identity. I find myself wondering, though, whether it is less a refusal of assimilation than a position deliberately kept in play. Perhaps living abroad doesn’t so much make the foreigner visible as sharpen his outline.
When language and culture change, we don’t only alter how we speak; we may also rewire perception itself, even the way the body moves through space, don't we? Is that exile, or a kind of clarity?
And if assimilation occurs at all, can it really remain partial? It feels as though it is either total, chosen because one wants to belong fully, or else the foreigner remains intact, not as resistance, but as a form of internal sovereignty whose limits only the individual can know.