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Reviews tagging 'Genocide'
Slow Noodles: A Cambodian Memoir of Love, Loss, and Family Recipes by Chantha Nguon
12 reviews
bibliomich's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
inspiring
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
Out of respect for authors' personal stories, I prefer not to provide star ratings for memoirs.
“I will tell you my story, but I insist on telling it with hands busy and the kitchen full of enticing aromas. I’ll cook for you throughout the telling. You’ll see for yourself that the past cannot be erased so easily. You’ll taste for yourself the way that history can be carried forward, borne on the smoke from a long-gone mother’s charcoal fire.”
Chantha Nguon's emotional memoir, Slow Noodles, tells the story of her coming of age in the time of the Khmer Rouge's totalitarian regime in Cambodia. Spanning multiple decades and traveling across Southeast Asia, from Cambodia to Vietnam to Thailand, the author frames her narrative using vignettes about food and family.
As one might expect given the setting and content, Nguon's narrative is devastating, and while it is rife with stories of violence, abuse, death, and grief, the author's story is, at its core, a tale about a girl growing up. While many of her life experiences are truly unfathomable to someone like myself who lives with such privilege, Nguon also told plenty of stories that felt deeply relatable--stories about growing up, rebelling, and questioning herself and the world around her. The ability to relate to and understand Nguon made the tragedy she experienced all the more heartbreaking.
Thank you to NetGalley for my advanced copy.
“I will tell you my story, but I insist on telling it with hands busy and the kitchen full of enticing aromas. I’ll cook for you throughout the telling. You’ll see for yourself that the past cannot be erased so easily. You’ll taste for yourself the way that history can be carried forward, borne on the smoke from a long-gone mother’s charcoal fire.”
Chantha Nguon's emotional memoir, Slow Noodles, tells the story of her coming of age in the time of the Khmer Rouge's totalitarian regime in Cambodia. Spanning multiple decades and traveling across Southeast Asia, from Cambodia to Vietnam to Thailand, the author frames her narrative using vignettes about food and family.
As one might expect given the setting and content, Nguon's narrative is devastating, and while it is rife with stories of violence, abuse, death, and grief, the author's story is, at its core, a tale about a girl growing up. While many of her life experiences are truly unfathomable to someone like myself who lives with such privilege, Nguon also told plenty of stories that felt deeply relatable--stories about growing up, rebelling, and questioning herself and the world around her. The ability to relate to and understand Nguon made the tragedy she experienced all the more heartbreaking.
Thank you to NetGalley for my advanced copy.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child abuse, Child death, Chronic illness, Death, Emotional abuse, Genocide, Physical abuse, Rape, Sexual assault, Sexual violence, Terminal illness, Torture, Violence, Grief, Death of parent, Murder, War, Injury/Injury detail, and Classism
kimwritesstuff's review
emotional
informative
tense
medium-paced
5.0
Every year I read a handful of nonfiction books and Slow Noodles is probably one of my favorite nonfiction books I’ve ever read. Chantha recounts the joy of her childhood and the horror of losing everything and everyone. Only once she becomes “white hands” (truly in poverty) does she begin to build back up. This book not only educated me on the history of Cambodia, but also the refugee experience. It’s not a quick journey to a satisfying ending, this memoir takes us through decades of loss and survival.
How do we experience our culture? Chantha starts her memoir just before she’s nine years old. In that happy bubble of her childhood, her best memories are in the kitchen with her sister and mother. The beauty of this memoir is the interwoven recipes. Chantha revives her culture through food. She has no photos, no written history, but she does have her puppy nose and the remembrance of her mother’s dishes. That’s how she rebuilds and finds joy. Even at her lowest, her family always found joy in food when they could.
When Pol Pot comes to power and promises to purify Cambodia, Chantha’s family starts the exodus to Saigon. Chantha is half Cambodian and half Vietnamese; her mother knew that they weren’t safe, and so they ran. In Saigon, Chantha lives in a small house with her siblings, though slowly her siblings leave with the exception of her older sister. Through these times of fear and poverty, Chantha still finds joy in her friendships and in food. Even as she loses family and friends, as she flees to new homes and has to keep starting over.
There are times when reading I grimaced and times when I almost cheered. Chantha’s story is heartbreaking, but all too familiar. Refugees the world over have similar stories of loss and redemption. Some only have stories of loss. Embedded in the story is also female empowerment. Even when Chantha is at her lowest, she still looks for small ways to lift up others. When trying to escape Cambodia the second time with Chen, she cooks for a brothel, but it’s not just cooking. She also tries to help by providing medical care to the women who work there. Later when her and Chen start their own nonprofit (link above), the focus is female empowerment through education.
This book is beautiful and haunting. Thank you, Chantha, for giving us your history.
Thanks to Algonquin Books for the ARC.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Child abuse, Child death, Genocide, Pedophilia, Racism, Sexism, Sexual violence, Suicidal thoughts, Torture, Violence, Medical content, Grief, Murder, and War