Vietnamese diasporic rom-com

~ The Bride Test, by Helen Hoang ~

This was an easy reading book, but not necessary one that should be taken too seriously or read in too much depth for understanding of the Vietnamese culture or Vietnamese diasporic society in the US. Despite the fact Hoang’s novel intends to honour her mother’s struggles and strength by creating the protagonist, My, the book never moves out of the shallows, reading like a rom-com, lacking credibility at many turns. That said, it was a fun read, enjoyable in a frothy way, and it is easy to see why it is so much in demand, with very many reservations for it in the library. 

The story goes that Khai is an autistic man who believes he does not know how to love. His mother (who is a restaurant owner in California) wants to find him a bride, since he conducts no relationships with women on his own. She goes back to Vietnam, interviews a series of girls whom she rejects, then decides the janitor cleaning the ladies’ toilets is the ideal candidate for her son. (It is unclear what this judgement is based on except that My is from the same part of Vietnam as Co Nga herself, and she likes My on 2 minutes acquaintance. Clearly, Co Nga makes important decisions about the happiness, welfare, future, and security of her son – and their family too – with minimum data and great rapidity.) She makes a deal with My to bring her to US for the summer, and that if within that time she cannot persuade Khai to marry her, My can just return to Vietnam and her old life on August 9th. My is reluctant despite having been shown a photo of Khai whom she finds very attractive. Her mother persuades her to go, for the good of My’s daughter – My, like her mother, is an unmarried, single mother.  Much is made in this novel of My’s “seafoam” green eyes, as she is the child of a white American who apparently left Vietnam before he knew he had a daughter, and lost contact completely with My’s mother. (The reader has to suspend a lot of disbeliefs and critical faculties in reading this book.)

The novel would also have us believe that Khai is autistic despite his seeming very normal indeed. He doesn’t even object to the drastic changes in routine, diet, arrangement of his personal items, etc that My (or Esme, as she calls herself in US) inflicts on him, from day one. There are some nice moments when Khai teaches My how to handle him physically – with firm rather than light touches, warned beforehand – but the novel includes all too many episodes of sex between My and Khai rather gratuitously. Their mutual attraction could have been depicted with a lighter, perhaps more thoughtful, more original touch, than just piling on the pages of would-be-romantic sex.

The reader also has to believe that in a short summer, My takes – and completes – 3 different academic courses and aces them all, despite struggling with English, to the level where she can apply for university admission! Her genius is not made much of though; the novel keeps trying to stress her ‘worth’ because of her self belief and independent spirit, and her ‘hot’ body and of course, her seafoam green eyes. The novel would also have the reader believe My is a devoted mother, though her daughter is a mere token in this story, whom My barely seems to give a fleeting thought to for most part, except when she does suddenly remember, and then she is all yearning-doting-mother.

There is yet more for the reader to swallow: when quite early on in the storyline, My and Khai are agreed on their mutual attraction, and Khai even wants to marry her, My holds out because he cannot bring himself to say ‘I love you’. She has been remarkably understanding and accommodating of his autism, is aware he cares deeply for her, that he is a good man, that his family all want this, that she is madly in love with him, that she is doing all this for the good of her daughter and family……and the reader is supposed to go along with the notion that she refuses marriage to the love of her life and a green card (and all that represents as hopes for her family and daughter) because he cannot utter certain words? (This is My, the devoted mother, remember!) By this stage, the novel has perhaps pushed the reader’s willingness to play along perhaps just a bit further than gives the reader any space left for common sense.

If the reader is still able to ingest any more incredulous turns, Khai’s brother, Quan – apparently another wonderful man, handsome, single, sweet dispositioned, equally perfect except his tattoos apparently make him ‘badass’ compared to Khai’s clean image – offers to marry My instead, to make Khai jealous enough to claim her, or else, at least to provide her with a green card. The fact My held out on the whole family by not mentioning her daughter’s existence somehow does not make her a conniving, deceitful, opportunist. No one even blinks.

This is not a novel which actually depicts the situation for a Vietnamese migrant. If anyone is hoping to read a little more about how migrants make a life for themselves in a new country – as indeed Hoang wants to celebrate her own mother having done – then this is not the book for you. This is a book which is close to being a M&B novel set in the backdrop of Vietnamese diaspora in US in the 21st century. My moves from rags to riches, wins the prince who was out of everyone else’ s reach, is beloved by all his family, and the dragon to be slain is simply understanding Khai’s autism. Despite the author herself being somewhere on the autism spectrum, ironically, the experience of autism just is not very well conveyed, particularly compared with some books which do so with such detail, authenticity, elegance (such as Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, or Sarah J. Harris’ The Colour of Bee Larkham’s Murder, or Judy Newman’s To Siri with Love).

But for all these criticisms, the book was actually a very pleasant read indeed, if one does not ask too much – or ask anything really – of import from the story. Hoang has hit upon a formula for romance or chick-lit that seems to sell – in her debut novel, her protagonist has Asperger’s and the male protagonist is also of mixed race, Caucasion-Vietnamese again. (If she writes a 3rd novel, it may well be one protagonist will again be Vietnamese-Caucasion and the other will have PDD or ADHD or some such syndrome.)

The photo of the author on the inside back cover is one of the most engaging of author photos I have ever come across. Hoang looks a truly sweet person, the kind anyone might want for a best friend. After seeing that photo, I just wish I had more positive things to write about this book. Although I disagree with many of the rave reviews my romance-genre lovers out there, I am so glad for the author that she has many people who love her writing. I suppose it depends how you judge the novel – judged by the standards of a rom-com, or a romance novel, it is possibly pretty good, slightly exotic in flavour with the Vietnamese characters, tries to touch on some weightier issues but without being intense, and has a lot of feel-good factors. But judged as a piece of writing, just as a novel, or even a novel about the diasporic community, or a novel depicting East Asians, it is lacking, misrepresentative, nonsensical even.

So do read this one, breeze through it, don’t look too closely, enjoy, then return it to the library – not at all a book to be avoided, but neither is it the kind of book one needs to keep a copy of or reread.