"Beverly Gologorsky's novel proves once again that good fiction is the truest telling of the history of our times. The Things We Do to Make It Home uses the power of story to illuminate an untold tragedy. It goes beyond the terrible effects of Vietnam on its veterans to the widening devastation on the lives of their lovers, wives, and children. Rendered with vivid immediacy, this first novel is a work of rare, revelatory impact." --Helen Yglesias
The Things We Do to Make It Home captures, in clear, unadorned prose, the legacy the Vietnam War left to the wives and children of the men who fought in it. Beverly Gologorsky's brilliantly constructed, deeply human novel charts the fates of six couples--the men who came home profoundly altered and the women who strove to create for them a safe haven yet in the end could do little more than bear witness to their pain.
In 1973, stateside and seemingly whole,Rooster, Frankie, Jason, and the other vets begin getting on with their lives. Some marry, find jobs, buy houses. But beneath the surface activity, there's a dangerous fault line.
Twenty years later, the war is still with Rod and Emma face the loss of their house and everything they have worked for; Rooster lives on the street, alienated from his wife, Millie, and their rebellious daughter, Sara-Jo; Frankie returns to Vietnam to put his ghosts to rest.
The Things We Do to Make It Home invites comparison with the work of Tim O'Brien and Bobbie Ann Mason, but its 1990s setting completes the literature for our time. Told in a spare yet evocative, absolutely original voice, this is a story of deep hungers, the brevity of solace, and the limits of devotion to help those we love.
I had a hard time at first differentiating the characters, took too long. The book feels too split apart by too many people, there's not really a story here, no plot. As the last few pages approached, the book felt like it finally started to go somewhere, but it just ended. The end. I was interested in the family aftermath with Vietnam Vets, and there is some of that here, but not in a good form.
Vietnam, we all know it, the author knows it and her characters know it. This book has a sad undertow flowing through the experiences of the women and families of veteran gringos.
The atrocities committed in the name of capitalism perforates their unclear consciousness with lots of unanswered questions. But somehow Jason had reached the correct answer:
“I think Nixon’s men know we have a beef with them and they’re afraid to show up today. And they’re right because we aimed our guns in the wrong direction.”
Here's hoping the yank soldiers start aiming in the proper direction.
There are parts of this novel I like a lot and parts that really irritate me. At times, Gologorsky is spot on with her pictures of the way that Vietnam vets bond and simultaneously distance from the world around them; at times, it's pure stereotype, and it irritates the hell out of me that she doesn't include any vets who really manage to make it back to the world in one piece. I come to this as an insider-outsider, which I imagine is pretty much Gologorsky's position, so there are parts of the picture that make me say "oh, come on, not everyone stayed a mess." But, at the same time, she describes some of the scenes very nicely, sort of like Faulkner writing about black characters. And there's no reason to doubt her accuracy on the responses of the women entangled--mostly in this book for worse--in the vets' lives. I'd compare this with the chapter on the women in Doug Bradley's book DEROS, which I think catches some of the nuances that Gologorsky misses. As with the themes, the writing's a combination of terrific scenes and borderline cliche.
I don't know a better book about the women whose lives were changed by their involvement with vets, but it's a long ways from perfect.
1973: Five Vietnam vets return home with the war forever locked in their heads and hearts. 1993 and after: Their story is told through the women in their lives, or the women no longer in their lives.
From the blurb: "In this poignant and unforgettable novel, the fierce repercussions of the Vietnam War are captured from an altogether original and touching angle. This story belongs to the women: the lovers, wives and daughters who saw their men returned safely to them - but as unfamiliar, haunted souls who would forever be out of their reach."
Very fierce, staccato writing, which I usually don't enjoy much. This time however, I found myself sucked into the story, promising myself I'd just do another ten pages before going to sleep and then waking up in the middle of the night with all the lights on and creases from the pages embedded in my cheek. Excellent novel.
The character development was atrocious, in that it barely existed. It was hard to keep everyone straight in terms of who was related to whom. The individual stories are plodding and uninspiring.