A Review of Abbigail N. Rosewood’s If I had Two Lives (Europa Editions, 2019).

[sorayaz]

A Review of Abbigail N. Rosewood’s If I had Two Lives (Europa Editions, 2019).
By Stephen Hong Sohn

This read was one I picked up and was definitely surprised by. As Vietnamese American writing continues to evolve and develop, the trope of war has receded from more and more of the cultural productions. Such is the case with Abbigail N. Rosewood’s finely wrought and meticulously stylized debut If I had Two Lives (Europa Editions, 2019).

Let’s let the official site give us some context: “This luminous debut novel follows a young woman from her childhood in Vietnam to her life as an immigrant in the United States – and her necessary return to her homeland. As a child, isolated from the world in a secretive military encampment with her distant mother, she turns for affection to a sympathetic soldier and to the only other girl in the camp, forming two friendships that will shape the rest of her life. As a young adult in New York, cut off from her native country and haunted by the scars of her youth, she is still in search of a home. She falls in love with a married woman who is the image of her childhood friend, and follows strangers because they remind her of her soldier. When tragedy arises, she must return to Vietnam to confront the memories of her youth – and recover her identity. An inspiring meditation on love, loss, and the presence of a past that never dies, the novel explores the ancient question: do we value the people in our lives because of who they are, or because of what we need them to be?”

The structure of Rosewood’s novel really unfolds in two main temporal arcs. The first covers the protagonist’s childhood when she is raised in a secluded military encampment alongside her mother. It seems as if her mother is under a form of house arrest in Vietnam, as she had been part of a group who had discovered a form of financial impropriety by those in the upper echelons of government. The protagonist’s young life revolves around 3 people: a young girl who also seems to be connected to the military encampment and the local area; a soldier tasked to keep watch over the girl and her mother; and her mother, who really does not seem to want much to do with the protagonist. Over time, it becomes evident that the political situation is disintegrating so the mother makes the crucial choice to send the protagonist abroad, to live with family members, relatives and friends. This choice is a significant one, as the mother must relinquish any legal ties to her daughter in order for her daughter, the protagonist, to have the best chance at a fresh start (and without the taint of her mother’s past history to follow her). Because of the distance between her and her mother, the daughter’s closest connections are ones that she will replicate in adulthood.

Indeed, as the novel shifts to its second part, we see that the protagonist has found analogues of the soldier and her girl-bestie. In this case, she decides to reside near a Vietnamese neighbor who she thinks looks like the soldier from her childhood. At the same time, the protagonist-narrator develops an intense and intimate friendship with a married woman. You’re not surprised to discover that they will later become more than just friends. The problem with this relationship occurs when it becomes evident that the protagonist-narrator’s best friend wants a child and she wants the protagonist-narrator to be the surrogate mother. Given the protagonist-narrator’s complicated past—and this novel should probably have some sort of trigger warning given some of its delicate contents—you’re not surprised when she at first balks at this request. Over time though, Rosewood develops a very intriguing triangular relationship among the best friend, the protagonist-narrator, and the best friend’s husband. But you can’t help but think this alternative kinship cannot last long.

Our protagonist-narrator’s level of insularity and the unfinished ties she has to her mother loom as a larger ghost over what transpires later on in the novel. Thus, Rosewood fittingly chooses to return the protagonist-narrator to Vietnam. It is there that there is a logical and fulfilling resolution to this novel. Rosewood has some stellar prose, which makes the reading experience an effulgent one. You’ll want to read this kind of novel alongside others that explore the challenges of growing up in isolated circumstances. It immediately brought to mind Esme Weijun Wang’s equally stunning The Borders of Paradise. I’d teach these novels, read these novels, and discuss these novels in tandem.

Buy the Book Here!

Review Author: Stephen Hong Sohn
Review Editor: Gnei Soraya Zarook

If you have any questions or want us to consider your book for review, please don’t hesitate to contact us via email!
Prof. Stephen Hong Sohn at ssohnucr@gmail.com
Gnei Soraya Zarook, PhD Student in English, at gzaro001@ucr.edu