Like author Linda Le, the young woman who narrates this novel is from Vietnam and is a writer, a "dirty foreigner writing in French." The narrator has distanced herself not only from Vietnamese society but also from her family. Her story is an exercise in clear-eyed fury revealing three generations of a cursed family. The grandfather was a lunatic the family locked away and declared dead to avoid shame; the father is a failed artist and humiliated cuckold; the mother is a simpering beauty consumed with lust; the uncle is declared insane because of his incestuous love for his sister, who hanged herself. The narrator, on the verge of a profound depression ever since her mother told her she was illegitimate, alternates her story with her uncle's journal. In an acid style burning with compressed lyricism and savage irony, these parallel monologues sketch misfortune's family tree.
Kirsty fled, pregnant and in terror. In 1906 she returns with her first born, her husband and the other children. She inherits her father's business; from her new life flows a steady stream of troubles. She is unprepared for the sudden reappearance of a figure from the past. Her love and devotion for her brood never falter, and through it all she comes to learn that tomorrow is always another day.
The pain of Lucile, my mother, was part of our childhood and later adult life for my sister and me, but any attempt at an explanation was doomed to failure. Writing about it cannot heal it, but at least it allows me to ask questions and query memory. This is about family memory, where moments of brightness and joy can live side-by-side with grief, wounds and the most hidden of family secrets. "La douleur de Lucile, ma mère, a fait partie de notre enfance et plus tard de notre vie d'adulte, la douleur de Lucile sans doute nous constitue, ma sœur et moi, mais toute tentative d'explication est vouée à l'échec. L'écriture n'y peut rien, tout au plus me permet-elle de poser les questions et d'interroger la mémoire. La famille de Lucile, la nôtre par conséquent, a suscité tout au long de son histoire de nombreux hypothèses et commentaires. Les gens que j'ai croisés au cours de mes recherches parlent de fascination ; je l'ai souvent entendu dire dans mon enfance. Ma famille incarne ce que la joie a de plus bruyant, de plus spectaculaire, l'écho inlassable des morts, et le retentissement du désastre. Aujourd'hui je sais aussi qu'elle illustre, comme tant d'autres familles, le pouvoir de destruction du Verbe, et celui du silence. Le livre, peut-être, ne serait rien d'autre que ça, le récit de cette quête, contiendrait en lui-même sa propre genèse, ses errances narratives, ses tentatives inachevées. Mais il serait cet élan, de moi vers elle, hésitant et inabouti. Dans cette enquête éblouissante au cœur de la mémoire familiale, où les souvenirs les plus lumineux côtoient les secrets les plus enfouis, ce sont toutes nos vies, nos failles et nos propres blessures que Delphine de Vigan déroule avec force"--Amazon.com, viewed January 12, 2012.
Clementina is barely sixteen when she falls pregnant. Other girls had been put out on the highroad for less, but Clementina's Dei and Dadus stand by her. But the Travellers are treated with suspicion wherever they go, and soon the family are rounded up by the 'gavvers', accused of poisoning local livestock.
Iris and Laura, the daughters of Jacob Roth, leave Georgia behind and launch drives, respectively, for a shaky film career and a wide-ranging real-estate empire, for which Laura dares everything.