Souvankham Thammavongsa

'Sharp and vital' DAISY JOHNSON 'I love these stories' HELEN OYEYEMI 'A riveting, subversive collection' MADELEINE THIEN In her stunning debut, Souvankham Thammavongsa captures the day-to-day lives of immigrants and refugees in a nameless city, illuminating hopes, disappointments, love affairs, and above all, the pursuit of a place to belong. An ex-boxer turned nail salon worker falls for a pair of immaculate hands; a mother and daughter harvest earthworms in the middle of the night; a country music-obsessed housewife abandons her family for fantasy; and a young girl's love for her father transcends language. Uncannily and intimately observed, written with prose of exceptional precision, the stories in How to Pronounce Knife speak of modern location and dislocation, revealing lives lived in the embrace of isolation and severed history – but not without joy, humour, resilience, and constant wonder at the workings of the world.

How to Pronounce Knife

Spare, unsentimental, and distilled to riveting essentials, these stories honor the surreal, funny, often wrenching realities of trying to build a life far from home. In the title story of Souvankham Thammavongsa's debut collection, a young girl brings a book home from school and asks her father, the only adult in the family who can read English, to help her pronounce a tricky word, a simple exchange with unforgettable consequences. Thammavongsa is a master at honing in on moments like this--moments of exposure, dislocation, and messy feeling that push us right smack up against the limits of language. The taut, visceral stories that make up How to Pronounce Knife focus on characters struggling to find their bearings in unfamiliar territory, or shuttling between idioms, cultures, and values. A failed boxer discovers what it truly means to be a champion when he starts painting nails at his sister's salon. A young woman tries to discern the invisible but immutable social hierarchies that govern relationships at a chicken processing plant. A mother -coaches her daughter in the challenging art of worm harvesting. Charging her clear, direct sentences with immense power, Thammavongsa interrogates what it means to make a living, both in the sense of work and in the sense of creating meaning and identity in precarious circumstances. Aiming its penetrating gaze at brutality and tenderness, revulsion and arousal, pain and laughter alike, How to Pronounce Knife establishes Thammavongsa as one of the most striking and assured voices of her generation.

Stories

Diane Wang

When you’re a mother, you create a life and then you watch it go it’s on way. It’s what you hope for, and want, but when it happens, it happens without you. 

To lose your love, to be abandoned by your wife was a thing of luxury then—it meant you were alive. 

taryn

WINNER OF THE SCOTIABANK GILLER PRIZE 'Spellbinding' i 'Breathtaking' Elle 'Powerhouses of feeling and depth' Mary Gaitskill 'Sharp and vital' Daisy Johnson 'Excellent' Margaret Atwood on Twitter An ex-boxer turned nail salon worker falls for a pair of immaculate hands; a mother and daughter harvest earthworms in the middle of the night; a country music-obsessed housewife abandons her family for fantasy; and a young girl's love for her father transcends language. In this stunning debut, Souvankham Thammavongsa captures the day-to-day lives of immigrants and refugees in a nameless city, illuminating hopes, disappointments, love affairs, and above all, the pursuit of a place to belong. 'There is not a moment off in these affecting stories' Sheila Heti

Winner of the 2020 Scotiabank Giller Prize

Lindsay

Mari-Claire Parrin

All of these stories were valid and mostly realistic. As a first-generation immigrant, I can definitely relate to most of these. :)))

Kaelan Chambers

The kind of short stories you breeze through but then spend days thinking about.

Erin G.

Thought provoking and funny. I will be thinking about the last story “Worm Picking” for a long time!

Poppy Keogh

The last entry of this book called “Picking Worms” is about a young daughter who helps her mother raise income at the hog farm through harvesting worms. What follows after is a sharp delineation of white privilege, and how the immigrant voice becomes inarticulate of their frustration with the type of society they have to fit into. There is so much heart to Souvankham Thammavongsa’s short story collection. The fiction seems inspired by an amalgam of Laotian immigrant experience, who now must face the predicaments of living in a foreign country.

For Thammavongsa, being inarticulate goes beyond linguistics, beyond pronouncing knife. For her, it’s also about not being able to articulate emotions, not being able to express rage or frustrations, about boxing one’s heritage in an alien culture.

“Chick-A-Chee” is a child’s phonemic iteration of Trick-or-Treat, which is also a heartwarming story of Laotian children’s first Halloween. “Edge of the World” is about a housewife who’s eager to learn English by watching soap operas. “How to Pronounce Knife” is also another story that depicts assimilation, but to more painful costs. Most of Thammavongsa’s narrative pine around the same theme of identity, culture, and belongingness. All these complex themes are put together by easy, simple prose, which is understandable since a lot of the stories take the perspective of children.

If I have any gripes with the book, it’s that most of the short stories end unresolved, and the loose ends do not necessarily provide a space for further introspection. But even so, I think Thammavongsa has provided nuanced scenarios that detail the immigrant experience, magnifying what they can or cannot do in a territory far away from home.

Kent Reymark Tocayon

The last entry of this book called “Picking Worms” is about a young daughter who helps her mother raise income at the hog farm through harvesting worms. What follows after is a sharp delineation of white privilege, and how the immigrant voice becomes inarticulate of their frustration with the type of society they have to fit into. There is so much heart to Souvankham Thammavongsa’s short story collection. The fiction seems inspired by an amalgam of Laotian immigrant experience, who now must face the predicaments of living in a foreign country.

For Thammavongsa, being inarticulate goes beyond linguistics, beyond pronouncing knife. For her, it’s also about not being able to articulate emotions, not being able to express rage or frustrations, about boxing one’s heritage in an alien culture.

“Chick-A-Chee” is a child’s phonemic iteration of Trick-or-Treat, which is also a heartwarming story of Laotian children’s first Halloween. “Edge of the World” is about a housewife who’s eager to learn English by watching soap operas. “How to Pronounce Knife” is also another story that depicts assimilation, but to more painful costs. Most of Thammavongsa’s narrative pine around the same theme of identity, culture, and belongingness. All these complex themes are put together by easy, simple prose, which is understandable since a lot of the stories take the perspective of children.

If I have any gripes with the book, it’s that most of the short stories end unresolved, and the loose ends do not necessarily provide a space for further introspection. But even so, I think Thammavongsa has provided nuanced scenarios that detail the immigrant experience, magnifying what they can or cannot do in a territory far away from home.

I can’t explain why short story collections seem to be my go-to lately, but here we are with another incredible one. I highly recommend everyone to read this one. Each story hits you emotionally in someway and leaves you wanting more. I think my favourite was The Gas Station. Most of the quotes I highlighted were from that section, but Mani Pedi was another favourite. It is beautiful, but at times depressing. I think if you like On Earth… by Ocean Vuong you might like this one, the writing style - fierce and unforgiving - is really similar, along with a focus on immigration and identity. 

“The only love Red knew was that simple, uncomplicated, lonely love one feels for oneself in the quiet moments of the day. It was there, steady and solid in the laughter and talk of the television and with her in the grocery aisles on the weekends. It was there every night, in the dark, spectacular and sprawling in the quiet. And it all belonged to her.” (23)

“Old is a thing that happens on the outside. A thing other people see about us.” (39)

“A laugh, in any language, was a laugh.” (43)

“I know I don’t got a chance in hell, but it’s something to get me through. It’s to get through the next hour, the next day. Don’t you go reminding me what dreams a man like me out to have. That I can dream at all means something to me.” (70)

“But how could he tell her that the boy she loved wasn’t kind or good, that he didn’t love her, that sometimes what felt like love only *felt* like love and wasn’t real. He couldn’t do anything about that but say, “Yes, yes, it was my fault. It is all my fault.” (92) 

“Mary believed there were two kinds of people in the world. There were those who were seen, and those who were not. Mary considered herself as one of the latter.” (137)

“…she saw every stage of love. There was the initial giddiness at having found each other, the boredom of having been together for too long, the anguish of separation, the finality of a divorce, the clinging one did in the hopes of reconciliation that was not coming. She liked spending her days listening to people describe who things had fallen apart. It was like watching a play being acted out in front of her, the feelings raw and real - all of it up close. She didn’t have to feel what they felt, but what they told her about themselves stayed with her.” (138)

“Beauty was boring. To be ugly was to be particular, memorable, unforgettable even. He was uglier than that.” (139) 

“What’s the difference between someone who lied about love and someone who didn’t love you? Nothing.” (147)

Shona Tiger

Really excellent writing, and a very even anthology. Enjoyed this very much. 4.5/5

I can’t explain why short story collections seem to be my go-to lately, but here we are with another incredible one. I highly recommend everyone to read this one. Each story hits you emotionally in someway and leaves you wanting more. I think my favourite was 

 Most of the quotes I highlighted were from that section, but 

 was another favourite. It is beautiful, but at times depressing. I think if you like 

 by Ocean Vuong you might like this one, the writing style - fierce and unforgiving - is really similar, along with a focus on immigration and identity.

“The only love Red knew was that simple, uncomplicated, lonely love one feels for oneself in the quiet moments of the day. It was there, steady and solid in the laughter and talk of the television and with her in the grocery aisles on the weekends. It was there every night, in the dark, spectacular and sprawling in the quiet. And it all belonged to her.” (23)

“Old is a thing that happens on the outside. A thing other people see about us.” (39)

“A laugh, in any language, was a laugh.” (43)

“I know I don’t got a chance in hell, but it’s something to get me through. It’s to get through the next hour, the next day. Don’t you go reminding me what dreams a man like me out to have. That I can dream at all means something to me.” (70)

“But how could he tell her that the boy she loved wasn’t kind or good, that he didn’t love her, that sometimes what felt like love only 

 like love and wasn’t real. He couldn’t do anything about that but say, “Yes, yes, it was my fault. It is all my fault.” (92)

“Mary believed there were two kinds of people in the world. There were those who were seen, and those who were not. Mary considered herself as one of the latter.” (137)

“…she saw every stage of love. There was the initial giddiness at having found each other, the boredom of having been together for too long, the anguish of separation, the finality of a divorce, the clinging one did in the hopes of reconciliation that was not coming. She liked spending her days listening to people describe who things had fallen apart. It was like watching a play being acted out in front of her, the feelings raw and real - all of it up close. She didn’t have to feel what they felt, but what they told her about themselves stayed with her.” (138)

“Beauty was boring. To be ugly was to be particular, memorable, unforgettable even. He was uglier than that.” (139)

“What’s the difference between someone who lied about love and someone who didn’t love you? Nothing.” (147)

I can’t explain why short story collections seem to be my go-to lately, but here we are with another incredible one. I highly recommend everyone to read this one. Each story hits you emotionally in someway and leaves you wanting more. I think my favourite was The Gas Station. Most of the quotes I highlighted were from that section, but Mani Pedi was another favourite. It is beautiful, but at times depressing. I think if you like On Earth… by Ocean Vuong you might like this one, the writing style - fierce and unforgiving - is really similar, along with a focus on immigration and identity.

“The only love Red knew was that simple, uncomplicated, lonely love one feels for oneself in the quiet moments of the day. It was there, steady and solid in the laughter and talk of the television and with her in the grocery aisles on the weekends. It was there every night, in the dark, spectacular and sprawling in the quiet. And it all belonged to her.” (23)

“Old is a thing that happens on the outside. A thing other people see about us.” (39)

“A laugh, in any language, was a laugh.” (43)

“I know I don’t got a chance in hell, but it’s something to get me through. It’s to get through the next hour, the next day. Don’t you go reminding me what dreams a man like me out to have. That I can dream at all means something to me.” (70)

“But how could he tell her that the boy she loved wasn’t kind or good, that he didn’t love her, that sometimes what felt like love only felt like love and wasn’t real. He couldn’t do anything about that but say, “Yes, yes, it was my fault. It is all my fault.” (92)

“Mary believed there were two kinds of people in the world. There were those who were seen, and those who were not. Mary considered herself as one of the latter.” (137)

“…she saw every stage of love. There was the initial giddiness at having found each other, the boredom of having been together for too long, the anguish of separation, the finality of a divorce, the clinging one did in the hopes of reconciliation that was not coming. She liked spending her days listening to people describe who things had fallen apart. It was like watching a play being acted out in front of her, the feelings raw and real - all of it up close. She didn’t have to feel what they felt, but what they told her about themselves stayed with her.” (138)

“Beauty was boring. To be ugly was to be particular, memorable, unforgettable even. He was uglier than that.” (139)

“What’s the difference between someone who lied about love and someone who didn’t love you? Nothing.” (147)

Shelby Doherty

Likes:
- There is nothing wrong with the book, just not the book for me.

Dislikes:
- This fell short for me
- I felt that many of the stories ended rather abruptly and I ended up not feeling satisfied at the end.
- In the end, I don't feel that any of the stories were particularly memorable or struck a chord with me personally.

Cindy Lieberman

A slim collection of stories from the perspective of US immigrants from Laos. Most are poignantly about the struggle of making do and making ends meet despite the racism and language barrier most adults-as-immigrants experience. Some humor too, including two children experiencing “tickor tee” for the first time.

Featuring stories that have appeared in Harper's, Granta, and The Paris Review, this revelatory debut collection from O. Henry Award winner Souvankham Thammavongsa establishes her as an essential new voice in Canadian and world literature. A young man painting nails at the local salon. A woman plucking feathers at a chicken processing plant. A father who packs furniture to move into homes he'll never afford. A mother who works nights alongside her daughter, harvesting worms. A housewife learning English from daytime soap operas. In her startling debut book of fiction, Souvankham Thammavongsa vividly captures the day-to-day lives of immigrants and refugees, illuminating their hopes, disappointments, love affairs, acts of defiance--and, above all, their pursuit of a place to belong. In spare, intimate prose charged with emotional power and a sly wit, she paints an indelible portrait of watchful children, wounded men, and restless women caught between cultures, languages, and values. Told with compassion, wry humour, and an unflinching eye for the often absurd realities of having to start your life over again, these stories honour characters struggling to find their bearings far from home, even as they do the necessary "grunt work of the world." A daughter becomes an unwilling accomplice in her mother's growing infatuation with country singer Randy Travis. After a boxer loses his dream of becoming a championship fighter, he finds an unexpected chance at redemption while working at his sister's nail salon. When a seventy-year-old woman begins a relationship with her much younger neighbour, her assumptions about the limits of love unravel. As he watches his wife gradually drift into an affair with her boss, a school bus driver must grapple with what he's willing to give up in order to belong. And in the Commonwealth Short Story Prize-shortlisted title story, a young girl's unconditional love for her father transcends the fickleness of language. Unsentimental yet tender, and fiercely alive, How to Pronounce Knife announces Souvankham Thammavongsa as one of the most striking voices of her generation.

Brittney Wilson

I think the narratives and the underlying commentary are important but the writing is not worth praising. “slingshot” and “ewwrrrkk” are good.

Moray Lyle McIntosh

A touching and insightful collection of stories that throw light on the lives of Lao immigrants in Canada. I particularly enjoyed those, like the title stories, which were about language and its barriers and bridges. After the first few stories the tone felt a little safe and similar and I started to long for something that I could really get my teeth into. It's probably a collection that benefits from being read in small bursts rather than one sitting.

Hala Abdulaziz 

Wow
It's honestly one of the most unique books I've read
I never thought short stories are for me; i always said i had to get attached to the characters and that needs time and short stories can't do that for me. But man this book just slayed this conviction and surpassed all of my expectations. 
The biggest word that came to my mind to describe this collection was hypnotic. Every story truly felt like it took me and put me inside those characters' lives as if i was dreaming; as if i was in haze. Which is honestly amazing and very impressive. 
The amount of feelings each story left with is unbelievable; like each story would end and you would be left with this almost sobering moment and you realize you have so many feelings and thoughts because of the stories you've just encountered. 
I never felt like the stories were flat or underwhelming, each one was unique and each one made you feel like you've accessed the deepest parts of these characters. 
The stories leave you with a sad undertone for you to pick up and decipher; because a lot of the time it feels like there is too much to unravel in these short snippets of people's lives, i don't know how to describe how in love i am with this collection.

Abby N. Lewis

How to Pronounce Knife is a collection of 14 short stories. The title story, which is also the first story, sets the tone for the rest of the collection. Collectively, these stories paint an image of sorrow, of displacement, of a longing to belong, to feel at home. “How to Pronounce Knife” describes a young girl in school learning how to read. The word “knife” appears in a book she has taken home to read for school, but there is not a picture next to the word to help her identify it, and so she asks her father.

It was her last chance before her father went to sleep. He was the only one in their home who knew how to read. She brought the book to him and pointed to the word, asked what it was. He leaned over it and said, “Kah-nnn-eye-ffff. It’s kahneyff.” That’s what it was, what it sounded like to him.

HOW TO PRONOUNCE KNIFE, P. 7

Continue reading: https://freeairforfish.com/2021/05/18...

Erin 

A summary of ratings for each story:

How to Pronounce Knife: 4.5 stars
Paris: 3.5 stars
Slingshot: 3 stars
Randy Travis: 2.5 stars
Mani Pedi: 3.5 stars
Chick-a-Chee!: 4 stars
The Universe Would Be So Cruel: 3.5 stars
Edge of the World: 3 stars
The School Bus Driver: 4 stars
You Are So Embarrassing: 4 stars
Ewwrrrkk: 2.5 stars
The Gas Station: 2.5 stars
A Far Distant Thing: 4 stars
Picking Worms: 4 stars

Oh I liked this one a lot. In fact, even though the ratings above average out to just above 3 stars, I gave it an extra star overall just for the feel of the stories and how much I enjoyed them. It's safe to say I've never read a book about people from Laos. Which is obviously not good. But I love that unifying factor in all of those stories. It's nice when there's an underlying theme (see Deborah Ellis' story collection about chairs, or Tom Hanks' about typewriters, or any of the many others I'm sure exist). My favourite is probably the titular story, although as I write this, a soft spot for Chick-a-chee! is growing. It's not hard to see why this book is a hot commodity. I was lucky to snag it on a seven day loan, and those seven days flew by. I will definitely pick up the next book by this author if she were to write another.

How to Pronounce Knife

Reviews

Highlights