The image of the village in Pham Quang Long's long stories is that of a purely agricultural area, like many rural areas in the coastal plains of Northern Vietnam. Although it doesn't boast picturesque landscapes, it is still blessed with a diverse ecosystem and unique beauty, with harmonious rivers, lakes, and rice paddies, abundant shrimp, fish, snails, and other seafood... along with many seasonal products available throughout the year. However, like all other rural areas, Dong Hoa village (in "Village Story") and Hoa Dong village (in "The Season of the River Crab") have experienced many ups and downs along with the history of the country and homeland: fighting, building, praying for independence, freedom, and food and clothing... These villages are a microcosm of Vietnamese rural life, reflecting the momentous events that made up the heroic yet tragic history of the nation: the resistance against the French, the land reform movement, the path of agricultural collectivization, the war against the Americans, the construction/development of new rural areas, etc. In every era and everywhere, farmers have been considered a powerful force of the revolution, yet they have the fewest choices. Pham Quang Long's writings about the injustices in land reform, the struggle of "who wins" between the collective and the individual in the early period of building socialism in rural areas, as well as the shortcomings in the current new rural development policies, are all truthful and profound. But the most moving and haunting story is that of the peasant children who went to war and sacrificed their lives, leaving behind endless grief and sorrow. This irreplaceable loss remains a deep, agonizing wound that never heals, piercing the emotions and leaving a profound mark of pain and regret on the faces of mothers, wives, and sisters... During those long, agonizing days of longing, they lived in constant anxiety and anxious anticipation: "That letter passed between the two mothers countless times; sometimes, when they had nothing to do, they would sit and read Thuy's letter together, both remembering and comforting each other so that their children wouldn't worry so much" (Village Stories - p. 395); and they fell into delirium, confusion, and despair when they lost contact with their beloved children on the battlefield… (Village Stories - p. 460). This is truly a debt that posterity has not yet/cannot repay. In the post-war era, farmers had to "swallow their tears," struggling to adapt to the changes in the new rhythm of life with great difficulty, often with sweat and tears. The rural economic problem sometimes seemed "insurmountable" because the farmers themselves lacked experience; their dedication could not replace their potential, and their will could not replace their knowledge. Farmers found themselves powerless, forced to submit to the system. Many paradoxes existed. Many moral values of a rural area, deeply marked by historical and cultural traces, gradually faded away, causing much regret and resentment. Pham Quang Long borrowed the words of the village headman – a "genuine" farmer, a true farmer – when answering a question from a district leader, not only to express the thoughts and feelings of a farmer but also to convey the emotions and reflections of a writer deeply attached to his homeland: "...The State still owes farmers a great deal. Everything depends on farmers, but farmers suffer the most, their children are the most disadvantaged, rural areas receive the least attention, the goods farmers produce feed the whole society, but society doesn't value farmers at all. Goods sold to farmers are expensive, but bought from farmers are cheap, farmers' land is taken indiscriminately, anyone can issue a decision to reclaim it and the compensation is meager. And policies? There are many benefits but also many drawbacks. If everything were right, rural areas wouldn't be like this... Just our village, after decades of changes according to the directives of the authorities, is no longer even a village. The name of the village..." "There's nothing left... As for other things, the overemphasis on money has ruined so many things. The worst is the lack of neighborly affection now, sir... The whole society prioritizes money, titles, and profit, and yet you tell my villagers not to live like them? If modernization ruins people, then I don't want modernization at all" (The Season of the Crayfish - p. 304).
One of the genre's potentials, which will be fictionalized and clearly revealed in the work, is the style of character portrayal that emphasizes their identity. This can be considered the "essence of the novel," and also a prominent aspect bearing the poetic imprint of Pham Quang Long. According to the author, both "Village Stories" and "The Season of the River Crab" are about the familiar village where he was born, bathed in the gentle, simple, and warm atmosphere of the countryside. Although he has "joined" the urban community for nearly half a century, Pham Quang Long always interacts as a villager who has never left his hometown. He remembers the village scenery vividly: the pond, the rice fields, the temple; he is well-versed in the lifestyle, manners, and temperament of the farmers. The experiences that have permeated every cell of his being, and the richness of his life's knowledge, have been a valuable source of material that helps Phạm Quang Long create a portrayal of rural life—people and landscapes—that is always familiar, authentic, and vibrant.
Every page of Pham Quang Long's books depicts farmers of various types and generations: old and young; rich and poor; good and bad; from officials to ordinary citizens; from those who retain their peasant genetic identity to those who are ungrateful, disillusioned, and reject their roots… Each person has their own fate, and whether they want to or not, they can hardly stand outside the times; in other words, they are always drawn into the whirlwind of reality: from bombs and bullets to mending and healing the wounds of war; from hunger and poverty to fine food and clothing; from thatched huts and mud-walled houses to tiled-roof houses and brick courtyards to high-rise buildings and garden villas… As a sharp and insightful writer, Pham Quang Long often views the reality of rural life in a “dual” perspective of old and new, past and present, to provide a deeper understanding of the gains and losses after so many social changes. The face of the countryside today is reflected/recreated as a multipolar existence, shaped by a multi-dimensional and multi-faceted form of thinking, perception, and sensory experience of life.
The characters in Pham Quang Long's rural-themed novels are observed up close. Even more interesting is that most of the characters, with their distinct personalities and strong impressions on the reader, are selected from real-life prototypes. These include the eccentric old farmer Thich; the intelligent, studious, and courageous soldier Thuy who died bravely on the battlefield (Village Story); old Hoan – the "master of insults" of Hoa Dong village; and Dinh – a veteran/village headman who fought well, worked hard, and was a reliable pillar of support for the villagers during the land consolidation campaign and the urbanization of the countryside. Most interestingly, he is the one who made his fortune from the famous mudworm specialty of his hometown (Mudworm Season). This world of characters reflects the joys and sorrows of rural life, shaping the character and temperament of the people of this region. The narrative progression in each story shows that Pham Quang Long always has an open, warm, equal, and democratic view of farmers, engaging in dialogue with his characters on an equal footing, in a "fair" manner. Even characters considered "negative," thorns in the side of the villagers, or even the constant fear of their wives and children, and despite the author seemingly "reading the minds" of cunning and self-righteous individuals like old Thich and old Hoan, ultimately do not evoke animosity in the reader, but rather convey tolerance and a sense of right and wrong in life. Amidst the rural landscape, the characters in Pham Quang Long's novels embody the multifaceted and diverse aspects of everyday life, interwoven with extremes of tragedy and comedy, nobility and baseness, good and evil… Through each person's fate and life story, he has entrusted all his love, empathy, and shared joys and happiness, living with the deepest pain of his people: “A village as small as a nostril, with only 40 households, yet nearly twenty martyrs and wounded soldiers? I estimate that each household contributed one or two people. Considering the whole country, it's a lot more. Truly, a mountain of bones, a river of blood…” (Character's words in *Village Stories* – p. 464). After the vicissitudes of time and the inevitable clashes and conflicts in a poor rural area, Pham Quang Long distilled a philosophy of conduct that embodies profound compassion: “Life is like that. The village is also a miniature society. Where there is one thing, there is also another. A hundred people, a hundred different destinies… everyone lives to repay their debts to life, everyone is either the next life of themselves or someone else, or perhaps the previous life of someone else… So, while living, just live according to what is right, easy on both sides, pleasing to yourself and pleasing to others. The elders said it concisely and wisely: live by observing each other. There is nothing concrete, the agreements are only within common sense, yet they make people upright and decent” (The Rươi Season – p. 227). This is a “compromise,” a continuation and adaptation aimed at preserving the beauty of interpersonal relationships, conveying concepts of morality, and the customs and traditions that have shaped Vietnamese values for generations. Pham Quang Long's novels, therefore, are a kind of "literature focused on humanity." Thus, they are imbued with the qualities of a novel – a genre that takes personal life and the human condition as its central focus – and carry a message of compassion and humanism.
When writing about rural life and the lives of country folk, Pham Quang Long pays particular attention to searching for and deciphering the cultural indicators of the land that nurtured his soul and emotions from childhood to adulthood. Despite having traveled extensively and held many important positions in higher education—Rector of the University of Social Sciences and Humanities, Vice Director of Hanoi National University, and once the "captain" of the cultural sector: Director of the Hanoi Department of Culture, Sports, and Tourism—his mind remains deeply rooted in his heritage. He writes about his homeland with the perspective and viewpoint of both an administrator and a recipient of culture. The villages of Hoa Dong and Dong Hoa are both cultural spaces that are purely Vietnamese, from their natural landscapes to their lifestyles, customs, and cuisine. While not possessing the majestic beauty of the highlands with their high mountains and wide rivers, they are gentle and charming with their rows of trees, riverside docks, temples, communal houses, ponds, and fields… and the farmers are both the subjects of the fields and the subjects of the cultural activities of this place. The identity of this rural area is preserved and maintained through time, truly flourishing from the most "ancient," everyday, and simple things. Children's games like playing marbles, flying kites, swimming, and the bountiful products of nature, such as fish, shrimp, snails, and worms, processed by the hands of the local people, have been preserved by Pham Quang Long as treasures of memory and have become an indispensable part of his own soul/identity.
Among contemporary prose writers with a passion for writing about food, Pham Quang Long is one who has left behind many remarkable pages of writing. From simple, rustic dishes, through meticulous, careful, and thoughtful descriptions of every detail, he has infused each dish with a bit of feng shui philosophy and his own personal insights. One could say he is like a highly skilled professional chef presenting a long "menu" where every dish is delicious, appealing, and stimulating to the reader's taste buds. The aroma and flavor of each dish seem to permeate every word, evocative and deeply moving: "Just finished cooking a pot of braised perch, the bottom of the pot lined with ginger leaves, wrapped around with straw, and then covered with rice husks burning brightly… The perch was that big, with thick, lean meat, seasoned perfectly with fish sauce and salt, accompanied by a few ripe bananas braised together, eaten with freshly cooked rice, it was undeniably delicious" (Village Stories – p. 51). Shrimp and mud crabs, products of the brackish water region, are vividly depicted through the detailed descriptions of a seasoned writer knowledgeable about food: “The swimming shrimp are bigger than regular shrimp, each one as big as a thumb, when stewed the meat is firm and sweet, a satisfying bite. But the best are the swimming mud crabs, each one as big as a carp, the females full of roe, the males as firm as a ball of rice, with plenty of meat… The mud crabs are plucked, their legs pounded separately, the juice extracted, the shells removed, the roe scooped out, the juice added and simmered, sprinkled with a little finely chopped betel leaves for aroma, the fat floating like stars next to the yellow roe like turmeric. Eating that with freshly cooked rice will empty the pot and the rice cooker. It's not only delicious, but it also evokes so many stories about the land, the people, the habits, and the way of thinking” (The Mud Crab Season – p. 103). Among the many dishes on the menu, truly reflecting the countryside, one could say that smoked snails and braised river worms are two favorites, unique and special, with cooking methods no less elaborate than other gourmet dishes: “Mature snails, with their mouths full of guts pushing the lids out, their shells glistening with a cloudy waxy color beneath, are selected ten of them, placed in a large basket, covered with a sieve to allow soot to fall through, and left in the attic, a little far from the cooking area to avoid excessive heat. After a few months to about half a year, they can be taken down and used. It's strange that these snails, normally found in ponds and always needing water, survive after being left in the attic, eating only soot and becoming plump and white. Each one is full of meat and fat, the black parts dark and the white parts creamy, all fat and grease, very appealing to the eye, completely free of slime and dirt… The snails are cut at the bottom, prepared alive instead of boiled, and marinated.” "With just enough galangal and turmeric, stir-fry with a little pork belly and skillfully grilled tofu. Boiled bananas, cooked until just tender, are simmered with the stir-fried snails, adding a bowl of clear vinegar until the liquid evaporates and only a gentle simmer remains. Add scallions, betel leaves, and water spinach, letting the herbs wilt slightly before serving. Serve in a bowl, eating while blowing on it to cool it down, slurping it up – that's the ultimate delight" (Village Stories – p. 345). The famous sea worm dish of Northern Vietnamese cuisine, once celebrated and captivating through the talented essays of Vu Bang in the first half of the 20th century, is once again elevated by Pham Quang Long to the "ultimate delicacy" with all its fresh, pure, and nutritious ingredients, not the famous sea worm patties that are elaborately decorated and visually appealing. But achieving a truly high-quality dish requires meticulous effort and skill, no less than that of a master chef: “Stewed mudworms must be cooked in an earthenware pot; aluminum or cast iron pots are no good. First, you must take a lot of ginger, lining the bottom of the pot with about two layers. But the ginger leaves lining the bottom and sides of the pot must be arranged in several layers skillfully, so that the seasoning and mudworm powder don't break apart and drip onto the bottom of the pot, ruining the richness and making the mudworms tough. Thus, the ginger leaves are mainly to prevent sticking to the pot, but when the ginger leaves are cooked, they release a fragrant aroma that permeates the mudworms as they gradually shrink. When eaten, you will experience both the aroma and the subtly spicy flavor of ginger, which is very pleasant. The subtle, delicate, and captivating spicy aroma” (Mudworm Season – p. 122) etc… and so on… Such rambling and lengthy descriptions are also a way to enjoy the flavors of the dishes and fully appreciate the heart, soul, enthusiasm, and vision of the writer. Because, behind the story of food lies the signal and integration of elements that make up the cultural identity of the Northern Delta. This culinary art has existed for millennia alongside the foundation/characteristics of rice-farming civilization. It appears as a simple, vibrant piece in the colorful mosaic of Vietnamese culture.
Alongside the preservation and dissemination of tangible and intangible cultural heritage, another extreme aspect of rural life depicted in Pham Quang Long's novels is the phenomenon of the fading and weakening of traditional customs and values that constitute the Vietnamese value system in a vast coastal region. This is truly a deep concern in his cultural sensibility. The contemporary state of rural life evokes much reflection, anxiety, and even disbelief and bewilderment upon witnessing harsh and uncivilized behavior in villages, places traditionally considered resilient and highly immune to anything that contradicts long-standing customs and traditions. There was a time when people destroyed temples in the name of eradicating superstition, but whether intentionally or unintentionally, it was an act of disrespect to the spiritual life and traditional beliefs that have served as salvation and protection for Vietnamese people throughout history: “People have ancestors and their own beliefs. When you no longer believe in anything, that is the beginning of disaster, sir. I'm not speaking presumptuously. Worshipping ancestors and deities for protection and blessings is a tradition of humanity, how can it be called superstition? The compassionate Buddha has always advised people to live virtuously, never to harm anyone” (Village Stories – p. 80). The indiscriminate and reckless trend of concrete construction has not only caused ecological destruction and disrupted the natural landscape, but also severely damaged morality and community spirit: “The shape of the village is becoming increasingly grotesque. Uneven, undulating, and crumbling. People only care about their own houses and have no time to pay attention to others' houses or affairs… People's hearts are no longer as pure and simple as they were a few decades ago. Self-interest is changing both the shape of the village and the people. The intact parts are fewer, the shabby and distorted parts are more pronounced… People only chase after a desire to live a more comfortable life instead of caring about living a more decent life” (The Season of the Crayfish – p. 336). Even the sound of the kite flute, a clear, melodious, and whistling sound in the countryside that evokes purity and tranquility, has been transformed into a source of pollution because the crowd has “given up” to a “stubborn fellow,” a collective effort. The peaceful, tranquil atmosphere is overwhelmed by "chaotic" sounds, "like punches to the ears, full of provocation," "occasionally snorting like dogs"... Behind these exposed anti-cultural paradoxes lies concern and reflection on cultural agreements aimed at preserving and promoting Vietnamese values in the context of a market economy, integration, and exchange during the open-door era.
In terms of narrative art and poetic characteristics, Pham Quang Long harmoniously combines traditional writing styles with innovative explorations. The imagery of space and time in his two works, while following a linear order, is neither rigid nor monotonous, but rather flexible and diverse. It features sequential plot time interwoven with simultaneous time, nostalgic time, and time looking back… And realistic space coexists with mental space, natural space present alongside social context… In addition, his psychological descriptive style is one of the outstanding strengths that defines Pham Quang Long's style. Avoiding the mind-bending, confusing writing style of labyrinthine structures and rambling, immersive stream-of-consciousness techniques, his novels captivate readers with profound psychological interpretations and descriptions, demonstrating a deep understanding of human nature and the ways of the world. Therefore, his characters (primarily the main characters) always possess rich inner lives with complex and multifaceted developments. Finally, an unmissable aspect of the text's structure is the blending and intertwining of moods and tones to create a polyphonic quality: solemnity and humor, compassion and mockery, compromise and debate… Particularly, in the characters' speeches (both positive and negative), Pham Quang Long does not hesitate to allow them to freely use vulgar language, yet these statements do not evoke obscenity or offensiveness. On the contrary, they act as a spice, adding flavor to the writing, bringing innocent and refreshing laughter to relieve frustration; like an effective stress reliever when people feel too tired and stressed. Cultural researcher Nguyen Thanh (former Director of the Department of Culture, Sports and Tourism of Thai Binh province) shared his profound and affectionate feelings and thoughts about his kindred spirit and fellow countryman: “In most of his novels, Mr. Long wanted to convey his anxieties and concerns about worldly affairs, and also took the opportunity to encourage goodness and beauty, along with the hope that human relationships and the ways of the world would be revived to become noble and virtuous, as he had been taught and experienced since his childhood and youth” (The Season of the River Crab – p. 9). Encompassing Pham Quang Long's works is his love for the hardworking people of his hometown, and writing, for him, can be considered a noble act, an action to repay his debt to his homeland, his “debt to the nation,”…
However, despite his rich experience of rural life, Pham Quang Long needs to be more selective and restrained, discarding the excessive complexity and unnecessary details to make the plot more concise and "light." Furthermore, his argumentative and argumentative style of thinking is sometimes excessive, making the reader feel "tired" and "headache-ridden"... But these unavoidable shortcomings are not a hindrance to the spread and healthy vitality of a passionate and energetic writer.
From the image of a village/original model "as small as a cow's hoof," through endless stories about the ups and downs of a land, the joys and sorrows of human existence, and the belief in goodness and the noble virtues of humanity, Pham Quang Long has recreated a realistic whole that is both familiar and unique. His novelistic creations, therefore, always contain profound humanistic inspiration and open up complex dialogues about the discourse of national culture.
(*) Village Stories - People's Police Publishing House. Hanoi, 2020
(**) The Season of the Mudworm – Literature Publishing House – Hanoi, 2022
