Reflections on “The Cleaving”
What does it mean to write creatively and critically in these political times? As Creative Writing MFA graduate students — in fiction and poetry (Chanelle) and poetry (Hijab), we wanted to reflect together on a special event at The New School for the Arts Writing program. What follows is our co-authored report on the recent visit from Viet Thanh Nguyen to our program, and our role in welcoming and learning about his work, shaping our own possibilities for our writing and politics.
From Chanelle:
In my Fall 2024 Critical Gestures/Creative Questions Seminar, my cohort and I were assigned The Sympathizer, a novel by Vietnamese-American author Viet Thanh Nguyen. The Sympathizer told the story of the fall of Saigon in 1975, through the lens of a communist spy for North Vietnam in the South Vietnamese army. Along with The Sympathizer, we read excerpts of Nguyen’s criticism on war from Nothing Ever Dies: Vietnam and The Memory of War. We discussed and dissected the text to find commonalities between the Vietnamese diaspora and our current political state. As a reader, I was both gutted and appalled to see that not much has changed regarding diasporic and political circumstances, even when moving through fiction. To live through an era of needless war, innocent killings, and cultural displacement is not something I ever expected to witness in my lifetime, much less again.
However, the real conversation came when Viet Thanh Nguyen visited our class via Zoom, where he spoke to us about The Sympathizer, his writing process, and what it means to be a writer. In retrospect, his visit was more like a preliminary to his official school visit upon the release of The Cleaving.
During Viet’s visit, one aspect of his journey as a writer that resonated was the theme of intention. When asked how he finds his balance between life and creative discipline, he replied You simply have to want it. He noted sacrifice as a key component to success, and with time, everything ends up coming together. He also provided an insightful look into the publishing world, alongside drafting, and agency. Overall, it was an incredible experience to hear Viet speak and receive guidance on the life of a writer.
Fast forward to the spring 2025 semester, I was invited by Professor Margaret Rhee to join the welcoming committee for Viet’s visit to The New School, along with other fellow graduate students from the seminar. There were two events held in honor of the release of the anthology, The Cleaving. The first was a reading held at Rizzoli Bookstore, and the other was an intimate reception at the New School immediately following the reading.
The reception was quaintly put together in honor of the Vietnamese diaspora featuring authors Viet Thanh Nguyen, Lan Duong, Cathy Linh Che, Monique Truong, and Isabelle Thuy Pelaud. Once I arrived, I immediately sought out Lori Lynn Turner, the MFA Associate Director, who directed me to assist in assigning tables accordingly and check in with my peers to see who needed assistance with event logistics like any catering concerns and guest placements. I made my way around the room helping with food trays, dessert placement, and program distribution. I was also able to learn about Vietnamese culture and cuisine, like custom-made Vietnamese chocolates designed by chocolatier Chi Bui for the event.
Once the hall was set up, I made my way to the front doors of the hall to greet the guests as they arrived at the event. People began sifting through the doors, one by one, securing a seat at the tables around the room. As I oversaw the doors, I met the flock of guests that came to support the writers of honor: artists, colleagues, professors, fans, and family. There were no limits to the amount of love and support that showed up throughout the night.
After about an hour of waiting for the crowd to fill, Viet Thanh Nguyen, Lan Duong, Cathy Linh Che, Monique Truong, and Isabelle Thuy Pelaud made their way down the staircase of the university center and into the room. From the outside, I could hear the claps and cheers for the group as they made their way through the people. I took a moment to soak it all in before I closed the front doors of the hall and enjoyed the night.
As a woman of color, reading Viet’s work inspired me to dive deeper into the history of my natural born country, Venezuela, and culture. Being an advocate for my people and the Latino community has never made as much sense as it does now, especially in the darkness of war games. Having the opportunity to not only read Viet’s work, but also hear him speak was an experience I will never forget. And to be a part of the welcoming committee for this event included in the conversation. Between his work and the mentorship of Professor Rhee, along with my peers, I found the voice I didn’t know I had to fight for and defend my communities of color.
From Hijab:
When Professor Margaret Rhee asked me to be on the welcoming committee for the reception to celebrate the release of the anthology The Cleaving, I was both excited and honored to have a role in welcoming Viet Thanh Nguyen, Lan Duong, Cathy Linh Che, Monique Truong, and Isabelle Thuy Pelaud to The New School. I was a student in Professor Margaret Rhee’s course, Creative Queries: Critical Gestures, during my first semester at The New School’s MFA program, in which I was able to develop my own interdisciplinary works.
The reception was held at the Starr Foundation Hall at The New School. The night began with fellow students and I using a guest list to check people in. The hall quickly became flooded with people gathering in excitement for the reception. The chatter only simmered down once remarks were given regarding the creation of the anthology.
The Cleaving is a collection of Vietnamese voices that presents the world with the various experiences of being in the diaspora. These writers utilize their art to investigate and express stories of the diaspora, allowing the world to see Vietnamese culture from multiple angles. This anthology also presents a narrative plentitude to the reader; we hear different voices that broaden and rewrite Vietnamese history away from the colonizer’s narrative. Here, the reader is urged to stop thinking of the words “war” and “Vietnam” as synonyms. The Cleaving also shares the experience of living in the cleavage of culture. In the diaspora, one is simultaneously existing in their home country and the country to which they have immigrated. This is an experience that is true for those in any diaspora, which is why this work is important and generative, not just for the Vietnamese community, but for those who also live between their own cleavages, in any sort of precarious state. As a writer who lives in the diaspora themselves, I find that The Cleaving’s expression of living in between two cultures is mirrored through the experience of genre as well. Balancing between the critical and the creative, living in the cleavage of genre, has been vital in my writings in order to feel like I am able to convey the many facets of my existence. Although I am not an Arts Writing student at The New School, I am a student that writes across genres and language, typically whichever one feels it is intuitively holding my voice at the moment. For my final project for Professor Margaret Rhee’s course, I was encouraged by her to develop a critical and creative project that navigated my journey with hormone replacement therapy. I worked in the genre of poetry and also critically in conversation with scholarly work to write through the fragility of the definition of gender, a fragility that genre also embodies. The Cleaving is a reminder that there are people with stories that do not fit neatly into one country or genre, so they express their lives with as many tools as possible, they invent new ways of telling stories. In this way, the message of The Cleaving is invaluable and powerful to all of those that inhabit unique intersections of identity in their lives.
Although I did not have the pleasure of conversing with Viet Thanh Nguyen myself, he was in conversation with the crowd throughout the night. With a packed room, many people were invested and interested in Viet’s work. One of my tasks for the night that I was looking forward to was to help with cake cutting. There were two book cakes, one with an edible print of the cover of Viet’s book, To Save and to Destroy, and another with the cover for The Cleaving. When it came time for cake cutting, I figured it was logical that the piece of cake that had Viet’s face on it belonged to him. I cut the sheet cake into small squares, and cut a neat square piece around it. I plopped the piece onto a small circular plastic plate and asked my fellow grad to walk up to him with me. When we handed it to him, he seemed a bit shocked. My friend and I said, This is for you. And he replied, Well, I half don’t want it, but I also half want it. I guess I have to take it, though. Before I walked away, I said Yes, you do have to eat it.
Other memorable food that night was the Vietnamese-style chocolate made by Chi Bui that was mentioned earlier. I wandered over to the chocolate table after cutting the cake. I was drawn to the dome-shaped chocolate because the gold dusting on top made them look like jewels. I picked one up and popped it in my mouth. The thin outer chocolate shell of the chocolate immediately broke against my teeth, and my mouth filled with strong coffee. After eating so much of the catered Eataly focaccia bread earlier that night, the bitter coffee and sweet chocolate combo was the perfect follow-up.
Even as the night was coming to a close and I helped take down the table covers to indicate that the event was ending, many people were still gathered around in small circles sharing conversations and laughs. As crowds of people were told they had to leave the event because the building was closing, I ate some leftover Eataly focaccia as I waved goodbye to people. People proceeded to gather in small groups outside the building’s doors. Closing moments were filled with warm chatter that I believe continued beyond the ending of the event. As a writer that is interested in breaking and defying genre in their own works, the ways in which The Cleaving navigates boundaries and borders is certainly still on my mind, as I am sure it is for others.
Photo Credit: Reception Photos by Vaishanavi Raul