Monique Truong
Full Name and Common Aliases
Monique Truong is a Vietnamese-American novelist and essayist.
Birth and Death Dates
Born in 1973, exact date of birth not publicly available; still alive.
Nationality and Profession(s)
Vietnamese-American; Novelist, Essayist.
Early Life and Background
Monique Truong was born in 1973 to a Vietnamese mother and an American father. Her family's experiences during the Vietnam War had a profound impact on her life and writing. Growing up in a culturally diverse environment, Truong developed an interest in storytelling from an early age. She began writing at a young age, drawing inspiration from her own experiences as well as those of her ancestors.
Major Accomplishments
Truong's debut novel, Bitter in the Mouth, was published to critical acclaim in 2009. The book tells the story of Ruth Young, a woman struggling with identity and belonging. Truong's unique blend of magical realism and historical fiction captivated readers and critics alike, earning her numerous awards and nominations.
Notable Works or Actions
In addition to Bitter in the Mouth, Truong has written several short stories and essays that have been published in various literary magazines. Her work often explores themes of identity, culture, and belonging. Truong's writing is characterized by its lyricism, depth, and nuanced exploration of complex issues.
Impact and Legacy
Monique Truong's writing has had a significant impact on the literary world. Her debut novel was praised for its innovative style and its ability to capture the complexities of identity and culture. Bitter in the Mouth has been widely read and discussed, with many critics noting its relevance to contemporary issues of identity and belonging.
Why They Are Widely Quoted or Remembered
Monique Truong is widely quoted and remembered for her thought-provoking and beautifully written works. Her unique voice and perspective have made her a standout in the literary world. Truong's commitment to exploring complex themes and issues has earned her a loyal readership, and her writing continues to be celebrated for its lyricism, depth, and nuance.
As an author who dares to explore the complexities of identity and culture, Monique Truong offers valuable insights into the human experience. Her writing serves as a reminder that our stories are intertwined with those of our ancestors and the world around us.
Quotes by Monique Truong
Monique Truong's insights on:

Time that refuses to be translated into a tangible thing, time without a number or an ordinal assigned to it, is often said to be “lost.” In a city that always looks better in a memory, time lost can make the night seem eternal and full of stars.

When they are like this, I remember what the man on the bridge had told me: “The French are all right in France.” What he meant, he explained, was that when the French are in the colonies they lose their natural inclination toward fraternity, equality, and liberty. They leave those ideals behind in Mother France, leaving them free to treat us like bastards in the land of our birth.

Such a “match,” even if identified, would only allow me the illusion of communication and you the illusion of understanding. I could claim, for example, that my first memory was the taste of an unripe banana, and many in the world would nod their heads, familiar with this unpleasantness. But we all haven’t tasted the same unripe fruit. In order to feed not so alone in the world, we blur the lines of our subjective memories, and we say to one another, “I know exactly what you mean!

My self-righteous rage burns until I am forced to concede that I, in fact, have told them nothing. This language that I dip into like a dry inkwell has failed me.

Lovers who have lived a lifetime together have the luxury of never having to say anything new.

And so, like a courtesan, forced to perform the dance of the seven veils, I grudgingly reveal the names, one by one, of the cities that have carved their names into me, leaving behind the scar tissue that forms the bulk of who I am.

Though contrary to what the Old Man would have me believe, the vocabulary of servitude is not built upon my knowledge of foreign words but rather on my ability to swallow them.

He wrote that it would have been better for me to hear it all in person. What he meant was that paper was not strong enough to bear the weight of what he had to say but that he would have to test its strength anyway.

I had forgotten how different my language looks on paper, that its letters have so little resemblance to how they actually sound. Words, most I had not spoken for years, generously gave themselves to me. Fluency, after all, is relative. On that sheet of paper, on another side of the globe, I am fluent.
