Memories of a Pure Spring

348 Pages·2001·216.461 MB·English

by  Duong Thu Huong, Nina McPherson

Memories of a
Pure Spring
Memories of a
Pure Spring
Novels by Duong Thu Huong Memories of a
translated into English;
Paradise oj the Blind
Pure Spring
Novel Without a Name
Memories o_f a Pure Spring
Duong Thu Huong
Translated from the Vietnamese by
Nina McPherson and Phan Huy Duong
HYPERION EAST
Nev* York
Novels by Duong Thu Huong Memories of a
translated into English;
Paradise oj the Blind
Pure Spring
Novel Without a Name
Memories o_f a Pure Spring
Duong Thu Huong
Translated from the Vietnamese by
Nina McPherson and Phan Huy Duong
HYPERION EAST
Nev* York
CiOcy
Nina McPherson wi^s to thank the author for all her generous help in
Memories of a
discussing the work and answering questions regarding the translation. The
translation is from the original Vietnamese manuscript and has been edited
with the author's permission. Pure Spring
Copyright © 2000 Duong Thu Huong
English translation copyright © 1999 by Nina McPherson and Phan Huy Duong
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner
whatsoever without the written permission of the Publisher. Printed in the United States
of America. For information address: Hyperion, 77 West 66th Street, New York, New
York 10023-6298.
Designed by Ruth Lee
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Duong, Thu Huong.
Memories of a pure spring ! Duong Thu Huong ; translated from Vietnamese by
Nina McPherson and Phan Huy Duong.
p. cm.
ISBN 0-7868-6581-4
I. Title.
PL4378.9.D79 2000
895.9'22334—dc21 99-41340
CIP
FIRST EDITION
10 98765432 I
CiOcy
Nina McPherson wi^s to thank the author for all her generous help in
Memories of a
discussing the work and answering questions regarding the translation. The
translation is from the original Vietnamese manuscript and has been edited
with the author's permission. Pure Spring
Copyright © 2000 Duong Thu Huong
English translation copyright © 1999 by Nina McPherson and Phan Huy Duong
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner
whatsoever without the written permission of the Publisher. Printed in the United States
of America. For information address: Hyperion, 77 West 66th Street, New York, New
York 10023-6298.
Designed by Ruth Lee
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Duong, Thu Huong.
Memories of a pure spring ! Duong Thu Huong ; translated from Vietnamese by
Nina McPherson and Phan Huy Duong.
p. cm.
ISBN 0-7868-6581-4
I. Title.
PL4378.9.D79 2000
895.9'22334—dc21 99-41340
CIP
FIRST EDITION
10 98765432 I

Vinh stood motionless, his heart pounding. The pale gray of his elder
sister’s face deepened by the minute, turning to violet. The rustle of
white uniforms, the antiseptic smell mingled with the pungent stench
of sick people lying around him; this suffocating atmosphere transfixed
him. Vinh could barely breathe. His temples pounded, a relentless
cadence, like the beating of a drum that transported him back, twelve
years earlier, to his father’s funeral.
“Who is the patient’s family here?”
i<T
1 am.
“Brother... or husband?”
Two opaque eyes, as cold as those of a fish, looked up from under
a pair of glasses. The long, frail face of the nurse reminded Vinh of
someone he had once met but couldn’t recall.
“Younger brother.”
“Where is the patient’s father?”
“My father is dead.”
“And the husband?”
“He’s ... also dead.”
The nurse looked at him again, suspicion flashing across her silvery
3
Vinh stood motionless, his heart pounding. The pale gray of his elder
sister’s face deepened by the minute, turning to violet. The rustle of
white uniforms, the antiseptic smell mingled with the pungent stench
of sick people lying around him; this suffocating atmosphere transfixed
him. Vinh could barely breathe. His temples pounded, a relentless
cadence, like the beating of a drum that transported him back, twelve
years earlier, to his father’s funeral.
“Who is the patient’s family here?”
i<T
1 am.
“Brother... or husband?”
Two opaque eyes, as cold as those of a fish, looked up from under
a pair of glasses. The long, frail face of the nurse reminded Vinh of
someone he had once met but couldn’t recall.
“Younger brother.”
“Where is the patient’s father?”
“My father is dead.”
“And the husband?”
“He’s ... also dead.”
The nurse looked at him again, suspicion flashing across her silvery
3