'Anam is a novel about memory and inheritance, colonialism and belonging, home and exile.
'A grandson tries to learn the family story. But what kind of story is it? Is it a prison memoir, about the grandfather imprisoned without charge or trial by a revolutionary government? Is it an oral history of the grandmother left behind to look after the children? Or is it a love story, or a detective tale?
'Moving from 1930s Hanoi through a series of never-ending wars and displacements to Saigon, Paris, Melbourne and Cambridge, Anam is a novel about memory and inheritance, colonialism and belonging, home and exile.
'Andre Dao mines his family and personal stories to turnover ideas that resonate with all of us around place and home, family legacy and expectations, ambition and sacrifice.
'Anam blends fiction and essay, theory and everyday life to imagine that which has been repressed, left out, and forgotten by archives and by families. As the grandson sifts through letters, photographs, government documents and memories, he has his own family to think about- a partner and an infant daughter. Is there a way to remember the past that creates a future for them as well? Or does coming home always involve a certain amount of forgetting?' (Publication summary)
'André Dao’s debut novel Anam is like a house with many rooms and windows, to use an image employed by its author. Its multiple locales account for the shattering, scattering, and smattering of Vietnamese people across the globe, and their resettlement in outer migrant suburbs, in Paris’ Boissy-Saint-Léger or Melbourne’s Footscray. Alongside a distinctly cosmopolitan, diasporic feel, the novel opens up a thought-provoking cultural conversation on Vietnam’s colonial and postcolonial histories – and in so doing, digs up a lot of mud. This endeavour may have been facilitated by Dao’s outsider perspective as a Viet Kieu (Overseas Vietnamese) born and having grown up in Australia, which provides him with sufficient hindsight. It is no surprise, then, that the names excavated from Vietnam’s past ought to be figures of exile, beginning with Dao’s grandfather. While a Penguin review noted how this “work of autofiction, this part-memoir, part-novel is twelve years in the making”, Dao’s grandfather spent ten years throughout the 1980s at the infamous Chi Hoa jail located in Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City) as a political prisoner of conscience under the Communist regime, before being sent away on a plane to France upon release. The narrator compares his grandfather to those decimated Angolan antelopes who are the victims of inter-imperialist rivalry and proxy wars in Africa – “he, a colonial subject of an empire that no longer exists, a forgotten ghost of an already embarrassing past”.' (Introduction)
'André Dao’s Anam is a sweeping epic composed over twelve years and spanning three generations: from Dao’s unnamed grandfather, a Catholic intellectual imprisoned for 3653 days in war-torn Vietnam; to his parents, whose application for refugee status was accepted by Australia, separating them from relatives resettled in France; to Dao’s rootless perambulations between all three countries plus Cambridge, where guilt and financial obligation bind him to the pursuit of a master’s in law. In the process, Anam presents questions around responsibility, inheritance and belonging as Dao searches for a home that feels like home, with partner and daughter at his side, and is instead confronted by a sense of placelessness, of time outside of time, and collected histories which refuse to yield redemptive truths.' (Introduction)
'André Dao can pinpoint the precise moment he decided he wanted to be a writer.'
'André Dao’s remarkable debut novel began as an investigation into his paternal grandfather’s ten-year detention without trial by the Vietnamese government, from 1978, three years after the war ended.' (Introduction)
'Novel, at first glance, is the tale of the author’s grandfather. But it doubles as a meditation on remembering the past – its challenges and its anguish'
'André Dao can pinpoint the precise moment he decided he wanted to be a writer.'