The Book Of Salt: A Novel

Monique Truong's first book is one of the most sensual books I have read recently, in the proper sense of the word. Binh the narrator is the main character of the book, whose story crosses continents, in an era that we are familiar with only from its bottled-up version. We learn early on that Binh the Vietnamese man is the house cook for the Steins in Paris, as in Gertrudestein and Miss Toklas. But we will only learn much later how this Vietnamese man ended up in his current position, and in the end we will be left wondering how he will move on from there.Unlike many first-time authors, Truong does an excellent job of weaving the story together. The evocations throughout the book gives more and more insight into the big story, in small enjoyable pieces. I don't get why many other reviewers on this page decided to basically summarize the book in a linear fashion, were they writing for people who have read the book?Nonetheless, this book is one of the few which made me truly feel like I was experiencing the story from the first person's perspective: Binh's narration explains his senses in aching yet flowing detail, from his belabored breathing while taking in the smell of certain herbs, to his sense of touch, and of course his lovestruck affairs and heartbreaks. The story fuses together Binh's station in the kitchen with the story of his life, regaling in how his memories are embedded in the dishes that he created for the Steins.I can't wait for Truong's next book!

When I first heard of this book, I thought it had huge potential. I'm a huge fan of exploring/expanding tiny clues in history, and the idea of this seemed intriguing. But what a disappointment! I could not identify with the main character at all -- he never seemed anything more than a cardboard cutout, and since I couldn't identify with him I hardly cared about what happened. So he's making a "big choice" in the first chapter, so what? This alone is supposed to keep me reading?What did keep me reading was hope that things would improve. But they didn't. While the prose occasionally had some nice flashes, it was mainly overwrought and turgid, sometimes almost laughably so; a good editor, telling the author to lighten her hand a bit, would have made a big difference. I'm a big fan of lush, sensuous writing, but there wasn't much of that here that really worked.I also was hoping for much more interaction with the "Mesdames" -- or, failing that, more "showing" of them and their lives, and less "telling." Probably the almost total absence of conversation was meant to reflect the narrator's lack of English ability, but instead this made the book quite flat. Even in the sections where Binh talks with fellow Vietnamese, however, there is little conversation and mainly only him telling what happened. The result is more flatness. I'm not sure how this could be gotten around, but even in a story told by a first person narrator, interaction and conversation can be an important way of lightening things up.And "insights into cooking," as advertised by a cover blurb? Not much, unless, as another reviewer said, the stilted references to salt are insight.I hope for better from the author in her next work. This one, however, leaves me puzzled as to why it picked up such glowing reviews.

It's quite a while since I have been quite so sad to come to the end of a book! I really wanted it to go on and on.This is a complex novel, set both in the Paris home of Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Tolkiss and in French colonial Vietnam. It is drawn together by Binh, the 'Asian Cook' of the Stein/Tolkiss household, who is alienated from both the Vietnam in which he grew up and in the France in which he lives later. It draws on Paris in the 30's and the vanities and prejudices of the American community there, the joys of food, Vietnamese independence, disfunctional families, and homosexuality. Not all of these topics would normally appeal to me, but they are presented in such a beautifully written way that I was quite enchanted. This book is full of allusions and metaphors, many of which escaped me. For example, much was made of a character met on a bridge. Apparently this was Hi Chi Minh, referred to by his original name. Clearly he was very important, but I didn't know his significance until I read a discussion by the author.In fairness, although I loved the book, not all my fellow book club members enjoyed it. I think they found the plot too complex and the metaphors too obscure. But I would strongly recommended this book to anyone who likes to be challenged, and to move into new areas.

This novel is a well written and poetic meditation on the loneliness that accompanies otherness. Binh, a chef trained in the French style during his youth in Saigon, French Indochina (modern day Veitnam), heads West, driven equally by the lonely desperation he faces at home and the chance of something more somewhere else. Life, in this story, is lived under the surface. This is a book that rewards thoughtful patience and begs consideration not only for Binh, but for each character he encounters as the all attempt to navigate a world not meant for them.

The way the several stories inter mixed. The description of the food. The lives of astern and Toklas. A window into what it was like to be a foreigner and a gay man in Paris in the 30s

I recommend this title to anyone looking for poetry in the form of a novel. It is beautifully written in every sense of the word. I plan on returning to this book in the future as the first read through was so quick, I'd like to savor it again and again. It is delicate and sad, much like the lives we lead. The recipes and food became a character of their own, and as the first read made me incredibly hungry it also added layers to the story that brought all the characters together. I loved this book.

On many levels this is a phenomenal book. The descriptions of food, love, heart break, culture, and life are poetic and beautiful! This is one of the best written books I have read in a decade!

Sensual, riveting prose from an author deeply affected by language and the limits thereof. A main character whose tragedy is to exist on the cusp of language, Bin produces a rich and varied narrative across oceans of memory and the grubby, isolated bricks-and-mortar here and now. My favourite moment is the loss of the word "pineapple" - when Bin helplessly asks his mistresses (one of whom is Gertrude Stein) to allow him to purchase "a pear not a pear, a pear not a pear", Stein's real-life "a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose" emmerges from Bin's suffering; I want to appear, not appear, appear, not appear. This is a treasure of a novel that I sincerely hope gains more critical attention.

It is a bit like salt. It sometimes added flavour other times was an irritation. Overall worth reading

A previously unknown (to me) Vietnamese novelist whose work I look forward to reading.

With brutal honesty, this story is not even close to being interesting, mainly because the storyline is impossible to follow. It jumps between unrelated scenes and is scattered in thought (too much work to make connections). Perhaps that is how the protagonist is thinking, but knowing that still didn't hold my interest.This book is also full of literary noise - the type of prose that is only appreciated by other literary snobs, the ones who represent this association or that guild, you know, the ones that pat each other on the back for each others' success. Sure, the writing is descriptive, but written for a very limited audience.I am pleased to have read the entire manuscript (instead of baling after the first 100 pages), since that gave me license to write this critique.

Ho dovuto acquistare questo libro per un esame universitario. Che dire, pensavo non mi sarebbe piaciuto, invece la lettura è stata veloce. Il libro è molto scorrevole anche se è strutturalmente complicato, dato che segue le regole del post-modernismo.Il protagonista della vicenda è Bihn, un giovane Vietnamita che risponde ad un annuncio per diventare il cuoco di due donne molto influenti nei circoli artistici della Parigi del primo novecento. Queste donne sono Gertrude Stein e Alice B. Toklas, che sono diventate famose perché gestiscono un circolo artistico letterario a 27 Rue de Fleures, dove pittori del calibro di Picasso o Matisse e scrittori come Ezra Pound o Fitzgerald si riuniscono e discutono di arte.Attraverso il punto di vista di Bihn vediamo com'è arrivato in Francia e man mano scopriamo le vicende che sono successe nel suo passato fino a quel punto. Alla storia del passato e del presente del protagonista si mischia anche quella delle due donne americane e di altri personaggi, ma purtroppo non possiamo sapere qual è la verità di ciò che ci viene detto, dato che il narratore potrebbe anche star inventando delle cose.Comunque, ciò che risalta da questa storia è la solitudine e l'invisibilità. Il titolo è "Il libro del sale" in italiano, proprio perché è sta storia di un viaggio per intraprendere una nuova vita che Bihn svolge su una nave in mare, che ovviamente è salato. Ma anche il sale inteso come i sali minerali che sono presenti nel sudore quando si lavora e quando ci si impegna. O il sale che semplicemente si usa per cucinare e le giuste proporzioni per utilizzarlo.Non solo Bihn è un immigrato, è anche omosessuale. Purtroppo dovrà convivere con i pregiudizi di varie persone e verrà usato anche da coloro per cui prova affetto. Anzi, sembra proprio che le persone che lui ama sono quelle che lo trattano peggio, che lo escludono ancora di più dalla storia di cui invece dovrebbe essere il protagonista. Non voglio fare spoiler su questo punto, lo capirete verso la fine del libro.Consiglio questo libro a coloro che sono interessati alla letteratura anglo-americana ma anche coloro che apprezzano le storie diverse.