Chủ Nhật, 23 tháng 2, 2014

Thephong by ThePhong :; the writer, the work & the like - autobiography by Thephong - 6

Thephong by Thephong ... - 6 - autobiography
Dai Nam Van hien Books, Saigon 1973




                       Thephong by Thephong:, the writer the work & the life
                                                 autobiography by Thephong



                                                                  CHAPITRE  FIVE

  

    On the cover of the poetry book Myself for hire are six angel like ants, my gracious quests in the first days of 1962.   While I boiled water to  prepare coffee, they came to alight on my head and neck.  I had always love animals and insects especially when loneliness fell on me.  When I sat sipping coffee, I found a letter near the door.   Lifting it I guessed it was poet Diễm Châu alias Phạm văn Rao who threw it in.   But the sender's name was Sao Trên Rừng alias Nguyễn đức Sơn.   I opened the cover and found a request for my introduction to his collection of First Love Poems*.  He also asked me to publish it.  I just could not make our why this youth knew for sure that I could come to see him at his house in Xóm Cỏ- Nguyễn bỉnh Khiêm St.   I had no intention of publishing books by those I  did not know well.  I had had a difficult time with poet Bùi khải Nguyên's new Eugene Inoesco  play translation already stenciled.  But when I ask him money, Bùi khải Nguyên answered that he did not want to have it published any more.  I surely did not know the caprices of this fellow.  I guessed that he was worried by my asking to pay the cost of printing and advertising.   Did he not know that I had no money ?  And poet Bùi khải Nguyên brought the stenciled matter home.  I burned two hundred covers of the play The Rhinoceros and felt extremely sad, acutely sensible to the grief of having lost a close friend.  And I thought I should find comfort in my new friend.  This was why I was willing to publish his book.  In my first visit I noticed that he lived very miserably in a hut.  Obviously pleased, he asked me my address for further contacts as I seldom came to Pham văn Rao's house. After reading the manuscripts I consented to print it, although there were problems to be solved about raising the necessary money.  Stencils would be obtained, I would borrow a typewriter, Miss Mỹ would be in charge of mimeographing.
----
*   Những bài tình đầu (TR)

    Some days later, he came to see me in the evening.  He complained that he had no means to support himself any longer and asked to stay in my house as there would be enough room for both us.   I agreed to receive a poor fellow like myself.  Some time before, young writer Kiều ThệThủy came to pass the nights with me too.  I brought my new friend to a shop to have dinner.  He suggested that we could cook rice at home for the sake of economy. My house was wide and had a kitchen of its own. I tole the landlady that a cousin of mine came to live with me to get prepared for the coming Baccalaureate examination.   So, we cooked rice at home.  It was convenient for us as the rainy season would come very soon.

     He asked me to hasten the writing of the preface. Then, we came to a commercial school, I proposed to type on the spot. Damn it !   my request was turned down.  So I had to bring the young poet to Mr Nguyễn đức Quỳnh' s and asked him to let us use his typewriter . We came there twice a day.  The young poet read aloud the poems for me to type.   We spent hard times with a worn-out machine, I sometimes skipped a whole paragraph.  At last, we brought the stenciled matter home for Miss Mỹ. 
 A friendly printing-house offered to print the cover, and we had some reams of paper left at Miss Mỹ' s.  The printing-cost was not too high for us !  Another good thing was that she liked to take part in literary activities. The poet came from her hometown and was a close acquaintance of Chỉnh, her cousin.  One morning, when the books were already bound , he set out to distribute the copies to his friends.  I asked  journalist-poet Xuân Hiến to use his poems more frequently as this would give him additional money.  I also presented him to Đoàn Thêm as he could influence Bách khoa Magazine,  editor Lê ngộ Châu.  I readily admitted Sao Trên Rừng was a good guy and  live with me very difficult.  I was dictatorial to those around me, and I was always angry with all who were wrong, especially my younger friends.  He was sometimes chagrined by that.  These times, he used to climb the trứng cá  tree, saying nothing, looking soft and sad.  One day, he asked me one hundred piasters, all I could do then was to tell him to shift for himself.  When I dispatched him to Nguyễn minh Hiền for money to print the book of poetry, he took one hundred and spent it without telling me.  Once back home he bought for me two eggs and two bananas.  I scolded him for doing this, but I soon forget the whole thing.  Alas, I alone had to pay the rental, the printing of books, and the allowances for both of us ... Through me, he became acquainted with Lê xuân Khoa, Nguyễn minh Hiền and some others.  Prior to book delivery he was old to return to Xóm Cỏ -Nguyễn bỉnh Khiêm St. because I had to be in Mỹ tho for some days.  I promised to see him later. In fact, I was really broke and could not afford to support him any longer.  At least,  I had done everything possible to publish his book, I told myself.  I also had to face another urgent problem : I had to pay the landlord a little sum in the case I wish to stay on.   Nguyễn văn Ngơi' s mother remained in my house all the day long to wait for me to pay back her money.  But I refrained from returning.  Later she decided to take a harsher mesure - she threatened me to sue me.  I really couldn't give myself away so soon as I was penniless than . Two days later I paid  journalist -poet Xuân Hiến a visit and he disclosed that Sao Trên Rừng had cast blame upon me and came to borrow money from Đoàn Thêm.   Good Heavens !   If this were true, it meant that my young friend had imposed upon my kindness.   Fortunately, Mr Đoàn Thêm wanted  confirmation on my part.  I returned to Xóm Cỏ- Nguyễn bỉnh Khiêm St.   He looked at me in a kind of dread.   I told him to see me in the boarding house .  All this vexed me terribly.  When he met me in my house, I said,
' Why did you do like that ? Boy, I was hurt real bad today. Why didn' t you let me know your worry as I did ?  Don' t you know it is so bad to borrow money in the name of another. '  He tried to hide the truth until I took the letter he wrote to Mr Đoàn Thêm out of drawer.  He remained silent then said that he would sue me if I refused to give him twenty copies of his books.  I asked whether he had received twenty copies or not, he nodded but he added there was no legal proof for it.  I was so angry I reached out and slapped him accross the face and told him to get out of my sight. 
  I did not want to see a young man behaving like that.  Before fleeing he said, ' Do remember you have beaten me '. answered , ' Yes.  Be sure not to come back in five years'.  I stood in the middle of the room, trying to imagine what had happened.

   When poet Nhị Thu came and heard this,  he proposed to punish this son of a bitch.  The following morning we set out to recuperate some hundred copies already distributed to the bookshop, tore the covers, and sold them to a bazaar.   Because I thought this young man had better not to write poetry, while he was so mean.  And I could not afford to be the publisher of his book even it had already been printed.  Later, journalist Nguyễn Ngu Í wrote in the weekly Văn Đàn that I failed to appreciated poetry as a critic.  All I could do then was to promise to let him know the whole matter in the future.  Every time I saw poet Sao Trên Rừng in the street and his trying to avoid me  I could not help laughing, thinking that my blow was sometimes quite necessary.  


                                                   ***

    The Tết festival that year was extremely sad.  I recalled pasts Tết festival in my house in Trương minh Giảng St. when I ate boiled chicken drank Beaujolais and talked all night.  When poet Diễm Châu alias Phạm văn Rao came to landlord disclosed I spoke French the whole evening, blaming President Ngô đình Diệm.  Phạm văn Rao stayed untill late in the night.  He came again on the first day of the year.  The day  before, I sat watching the sunflowers and evening came unnoticed.  Then there was a knock at the door.   It was artist painter Đinh Cường.  In the talk, Đinh Cường said that many Huế students were my readers and they did not feel guilty long it as Saigon students and there was rumor of my arrestation.  
I invited him to pay a visit to Lăng Ông Pagoda and that night he slept with me.  Đinh Cường knew me since the days in Lý thái Tổ St. , he sat in the late night helping me to bind the copies of  Post War Writers* until he was too tired to continue.  Đinh Cường then brought Duy Năng to see me and asked  me to preface the latter' s book of poetry entiled The Sleep on the Pass **.

----
*  Nhà văn tiền chiến 1930-1945    ** Giấc ngủ chân đèo. (TR)   

     Unfortunately, he addressed me as mate in a time I could allow only a friend of many years' standing to do such a thing.  Duy Năng as a contributor to' s  Hanoi weekly Quê hương like me.   He sent articles by mail from his hometown Nha trang. We knew the names of each other but never met.  So Duy Năng's telling to artist painter Đinh Cường that he knew me well vexed me terribly.

   I did nothing about the manuscripts he handed. One day, I met Duy Năng and an officer I knew in the street.  He said, ' Hello'  and was familiar terms with me just like our first encounter.  I stared at him in astonishment .   He thought again that I really liked him.  He blurted out  triumphantly, ' Boy'  have you completed the introduction to my poems ? '.  My voice was calm and dry as I told him that I did not appreciate the way he spoke.  Lieutenant Trần hoài Châu tried his best to reconciliate us in order to avoid further paintful development.

     When artist painter Đinh Cường let me know Duy Năng was so drepressed he decided not to publish his book and stop writing were altogether. I felt  very sorry.  After rereading his poems, I felt convinced he had own language and it was a great pleasure to introduce him to the readers.  But, worrying about a matter of no importance, I had became disppointing to him .  I wrote to him an apologize.  I wrote twice and got no answer.  

    Probably, my fault was so great that it could not be forgive.


                                                      ***

    I could almost do nothing else than eat, sleep and stare at the red road in the Catholic Refugees ' Hamlet . I wrote  poetry and let mosquitos sing my bare back.  This was to me sign that I was still alive.  Here was the poem entitled Mid Afternoon  :

      ...  I took so long siesta I forget the dinner
           Do you remember, my love, the red road to the church
           Where there was on Easter Day a long procession 
                                                                                      of virgin girls
           Bearing flowers without fragrance on their heads.

           In mid-afternoon I already hung the mosquito-net
           While mosquitoes were singing happily around me
           It seemed they only liked to suck the blood of people
                                                                                                like me
           Who could afford to have lunch only and then lie down
                                                                                 for them to sting... 


     And another poem entitled The Century Old Wall : *

      ... I remember when I was a little boy
           Every time I had a cough
           My mother told me ro come to the doctor so that
                                                          might live until my 100 th year
           But I want to die when I am barely thirty one ...

    -----
      * Bức tường trăm tuổi
           TƯỜNG is the  real name of the author.  Translated, it means ' wall '. (TR)

     Fortunately I had rarely been sick since the day I left my mother I recall once I shot a high fever due to venereal disease, my temperature topped 104 degree and nobody gave me a drink.  I had to crawl to grab a cup of coffee left on the table some days before.  At the beginning of 1963, I incidentally made acquaintance with doctor-writer Nguyễn tuấn Phát.  He was so kind to me but I only came to him desperate situation.  I liked to go others.   Once,  I went do Dr Nguyễn hữu Phiếm in Trương minh Giảng St.  The old doctor had written many editorials about social reform.  After a couple of visits I noticed one thing.  He gave me Dectancyl  0, 05 in three days.   I bluntly told him this medecine had nothing to do with venereal diseases. Only then the old man gave me another prescription.  And urged me to come again.  Every time he got $ 100. I have never told this to anybody. In case you happen to read this, do remember it was a patient about thirty named Tường, who used to say,

  ' I have slept with a prostitute and I am unwell .  Doctor, I have one counsel to offer you.  Don' t bother to write any more !   Nobody likes your editorials in ' Mai 'and 'Bách khoa Magazines ', 'Chính luận Daily '. And stop  your most dirty pratice first !  But I congratulate you one thing, ' You are good at curing venereal diseases, when you really try '.

     As far as my teeth were concerned, I had a friend named Doãn đình Thái.  He had furnished me aritificial teeth.  I called him ' my docteur chirugien dentiste ' *.  One day I came to see him, but he wasn' t home.
  I left a message. His answer was a quatrain which I deemed worth recording here :

                           You are very good caligrapher
                           So, you should be a lady-killer
                           Do know this, my friend !
                           You'll suffer all your life .

    He was right.  Do you know, my 'docteur chirugien dentiste poète' *.
I have had only unhappy loves ?

----
 *  In French in the text. (TR)

                                                            ( to be continued :  Chapitre six)

     Thephong
  
    


                                  

Thứ Tư, 19 tháng 2, 2014

Thephong by Thephong:;the writer, the work & the life - autobiography by Thephong - 5

autobiography by Thephong


                           Thephong by Thephong :;
                                                     the writer, the work & the life
                                                       autobiography



                                                      CHAPITRE FOUR


    Another painful by Tết Festivalt came.  At the beginning of 1961, journalist Uyên Thao moved elsewhere, but I still stayed with Trâm's mother.    Unfortunately, while I could bear my financial strain.   I coud not endure the days when her eldest daughter-in-law would ply me with arch questions about my work, punctuated by sly, knowing smiles that made me mad. So, I came to see at about four in the afernoona day before tết Festival.  Ngọc formely served in the French Army and was not a private firm clerk.  On my arrival, he and I got out for a haicut, then, we drank and talked in a small coffee shop near the airfield.
  He handed me one hundred piasters.  Judge Đào minh Lượng also came to see Ngọc with a friend.
  His wife was Minh ,a slender, white-skinned daughter of a village-chief named Chánh Thóc.  Although she had two children, she was still attractive, and very keen on expensive dresses.   Ngọc told me to come and live with him.   His wife agreed  to this .  A group of intellectuals and writers used to meet in his house on holidays.  They would gamble, go to the pictures, sit in La Pagode Café or just loiter in the streets.  It happened that  judge Đào Minh Lượng fell in love with Minh who traded on his position.  I told my much-loved  mother this.  But I added that we needed no counseling on sentimental matters, so I let Đào minh Lượng do as he pleased .  This was my stay at Ngọc's house was not so pleasant.  There was no more
 thing : penniless, I felt ill-at-ease all the time.

    I returned to my adoptive mother's house.  But I found her eldest daughter-in-law unbearable.  I came to Ngọc's house again with a heavy heart.   Ngoc appreciated my literary gift and like me personally too.
 I wrote the introduction to the book of poetry Immesnsity * for judge Đào Minh Lượng.   Ngọc was delighted to see so many VIP's coming to see him.   Among them, a judge, a lawyer, teachers, and writers.  He was like Thái  girls who are fond of receiving smart boy-friends.
----
* Vô cùng, thơ Đào minh Lượng,   Saigon 1961. (TR) 

   Later, judge  Đào minh Lượng  and Minh only uttered a perfunctory hello when they met.  A  platonic lover, he had touched even the hands of his sweetheart .  This was rather disspointing to girls and they often put hsi sincerity into question.  One night - is  still remains in my mind - Ngọc and his wife quarelled with each other.  After a little while, Ngọc came to my bed, in the outer room when his wife poured cold water on him, and chased him out.  I got out and seek refuge in a friend 's home.   I later discovered that Ngọc had married a rich wife; the house was bought with her money.

    Never previously had I found life so disgusting.   I felt pity for myself and my beloved Cao Mỵ Nhân.  When my friends were bursting with joy.  I usually kept a somber silence as if remembering somebody.
 In fact, I felt only self-pity, being then a tramp.  There was no way of denying that.  Then, I had to come back to my adoptive mother' s.

    Later on, I heard that Minh had left Ngọc and become  a dancer at Baccara.  This was only midly surprising to me until the day of an incident.  One night, I saw her entering Brodard  restaurant with another  woman.  Minh had changed completely, from dress to adornment.  A young foreigner - an American, I thought - came to sit at her table upon the invitation of her friend.  The American talked to Minh with the other woman serving as an interpreter.   No sooner did they enter the talk than the American put his arms aroung her.  I slid out the restaurant.

    The memory of this painful incident haunted me.  Minh was lucky not to notice my being there.  Good Lord, I thought, to what a state can a human being be reduced, and the wife of my friend, at that !  Whenever I heard of money marriage, I thought of my pitiful friend.  His two innocent children no longer  had parents.  Their father got a new wife and their mother, though always dressed in white as a sign of purity, had broken this virtus many, many times.

     My former editor Paulus Hiếu  ( or Ngô trọng Hiếu), became a minister and trusted man of Ngô  brothers.  He was the first man to visit them in the Palace after the abortive coup in 1960.  I sincerely admitted only he could perform that feat.  He had the courage to change even his family name.  Now he would enjoy great prestige as he had Mr Nguyễn đức Quỳnh as his counselor, and enlisted the cooperation of stiff-necked men like journalidt Uyên Thao and myself.   One day, I met Lê văn Thái in La Pagode Café. He  was the only chief of bureau who dared to address cabinets Ministers as tu et  toi.   According to  Lê văn Thái, Paulus Hiếu  had reported to his superiors that he had won the trust of the bitterest critics of the régime.  As I maintened a somber silence, Lê văn Thái added he did not know the reason I was associated with such writers as journalistsThanh Hữu, Trần dạ Từ, Viên Linh, Mai Sử Giương,  Trần tuấn Kiệt, Uyên Thao,  artists painters Vị Ý and Nguyễn Trung  - all working for the Ministry of Civic Affairs * and writing for the Life Mgazine **. Every times  I met Lê văn Thái in La Pagode Café, I heard the secret agents murmuring to another : ' It' s Thế Phong '.  I only cast a hasty glance at them.
----
*  bộ Công dân Vụ   **  bán nguyệt san Sống . (TR)

   Mr  Paulus Hiếu paid journalist Duy Sinh eight thousand piasters per month as he did to Duy Sinh' s mother.  Artist painter Vị Ý and I got five thousand.  In daytime I stay in the office; at dusk, I returned to rest at my adoptive mother' s  house.  ( By that time, Trâm had been working for the  Americans and was about to get married to an American officer . Economically, her family was much better ).  I was the trainee's superintendant, painter Vị Ý, a lecturer, and journalists Duy Sinh, Trần dạ Từ, and Viên Linh were in charge of special matters regarding the broadcasting service.  Journalisst Uyên Thao, Mai Sử Giương were sent to Ban Mê Thuột, artist  painter  Nguyễn Trung, poet Trần tuấn Kiệt to Ba Xuyên to run the provincial radio station.  I managed to help  Kiều Thệ Thủy, Nguyễn văn Ngơi to be enrolled as cadres on probation.

     A though I worked for the government, I disagreed with the Minister and his counselor Nguyễn đức Quỳnh on many things.  I often condemned Nguyễn đức Quỳnh on many things. I often condemned Nguyễn đức Quỳnh in presence of others, and rarely came to the meeting hall.   After three working three months I had not received my salary, but was authorized to borrow two thousand piasters each  month instead
. I complained on bureaucratic delay, Đoàn Thêm disclosed that the President's  Office had not received any papers concerning my case.  I felt pity for journalist Duy Sinh who boasted of being Minister's representative in his absence.  He was hated by even the bobbies in the Ministry,  and Paulus Hiếu was forced to transfer him to the Directorate General of Information to be charged with confidential matters.   I only met artist painter Vị Ý these days.  We had lunch  in the club nad worked together whenever possible though he took care of trainees of Chinese descent and I one hundred eighty Vietnamese nas Cambodians.   All the trainees like us.  After two months, I moved to  Tân sa Châu settlement, the district of Father Mai ngọc Khuê.
  I planned to marry Cao Mỵ Nhân as her graduation would take in a few months.  This explained why I refused to head the civic affairs team in the East.   I did not face the peril of such a trip as the monthly salary of  $ 5000 was too little for a  mercenary and too much for a genuine combattant. Artist painter Vị Ý assigned to the West.  We were being got rid of by Paulus Hiếu and his counselor Nguyễn đức Quỳnh.

      On Saturday noone I always came to bring Cao Mỵ Nhân  to her home.  But because in these days I was too busy with the about-to-graduate trainees, she came to see me instead.   We would have lunch together.  She knew well that I had refused to ask for favours, particularly for my friends.  So she came to beg Nguyễn đức Quỳnh 's wife to seek  to send her to the  Ministry of Civic Affairs so that we might got married.

     I would have been compelled to serve the régime, my career destroyed and nobody would  bother to mention my name as the most stiff necked writer of the period, had Cao Mỵ Nhân been transferred to the
Ministry.  My books would be printed at the National Printing Office instead of being mimeographed without any permit.  I remember the Minister's saying in a dinner in honor of four hundred men-of-letters and intellectuals at Đồng Khánh Restaurant, ' We have a national printing office; so, I don' t understand why some of you have to mimeograph the manuscripts...' . I kept silence but felt unconvinced later on the Minister happened to past my room, he heard my typing and felt much ill-at-ease.

    Upon my arrival at Tân sa Châu, Cao Mỵ Nhân bought a mat for my bed and I a brand new pink blanket for our future wedding night.   But as late as the end of 1961 I had not been authorized to get  $ 5000 a month.  Knowing I had been cheated, I submitted my resignation without delay.  I protested against the Minister' s treating me as a cadre by scolding his chief-of-cabinet in the hope he would repeat it to the Minister, ' Salaud, vous êtes perfides !' *. I also quoted this in a letter addressed to the Minister' s counselor Nguyễn đức Quỳnh . At the time Paulus Hiếu Director of Cabinet Phan văn Tạo published his book  The Pig's  Bladder **.  One day,  he came to our room.  All-with the exception of myself- rose to great him.  In reply to writer Thanh Hữu' s saying that it was the direcor of cabinet.   I said that I only knew the Minister who recruited me, the chief of cabinet who lent me money, and my direct hierachical chief
 Lưu Hùng and I had a good right to consisderd him  as a stranger simply because he had not been introduced to me.  Another added that the director of cabinet was also a writer.   I angrily retorded that as a writer Phan văn Tạo was inferior to me and I was not interested in talking to him even I did not like to, but for the moment I really couldn' t as I  was busy correcting the trainees 's papers.   Artist painter Vị Ý shook his head and looked at me a little confusedly.   When Phan văn Tạo asked lieutenant Dưỡng to bring his book The Pigs ' Bladder to me and invited me to talk with him I felt compelled to come to his office.  In this period the Minister intended to set up and finance the Associations of Journalists and  Writers to watch the growth of the members' s thinking.  I guessed it was Mr Nguyễn đức Quỳnh' s opinion as he saw that
PEN VIETNAM could not recruit first rate writers and poets.  Old journalist Mai Lâm-Nguyễn đắc Lộc was chosen as President of the Journalists Association; Old poet Đông Hồ as  chairman of the Writers Association, but he who really ran it was Vice-chairman Đào đăng Vỹ  ***.   Diệm ' s government  had been strong enough but there arose bitter conflicts among various ministries.  My literary reportage published on Nguyễn đắc Lộc' s Tân dân Weekly was censored and long paragraphs were omitted by the Directorate General of Information.  Paulus Hiếu phoned its director Trần văn Thọ ( his brother-in- law), talking he had better hear me clarify the controversial points in my articles.  When I met Dr Trần văn Thọ, he refused to follow the instruction of Paulus Hiếu.  It seemed to me the Directorate was not an agency under the jurisdiction of the Ministry.   Following this, the Minister consoled me in these words, ' Dont worry, my dear.  In a few years nobody will mention the names of Ngô trọng Hiếu ( Paulus Hiếu) and Trần văn Thọ, but you' ll be well remembered in ten years more at least '.  Now felt convinced he was no less cunning than a Communist boss.  Nguyễn đức Quỳnh dreamed of becoming the advisor of the second President because the heir apparent of Ngô đình Diệm was Ngô trọng Hiếu.   It was he who proposed to eliminate to the Communist Victims Association * as he sensed it would soon become a thorn on the government side .
---
*    In French in the text.   ** Cái bong bóng lợn .   *** A French trained scholar, author of many dictionaries .   
****  Hội nạn nhân Cộng sản Việtnam  . (TR)

     I knew  that the government wanted a tigher control over men of letters and first steps were already taken in view of the formation of the writers ' association.  We got to react if  we were to survive.   I did  my utmost to annoy them while waiting to get the salary.  I once fought with another instructor reporter of
 Life Magazine and was sure they would blame me but two long weeks passed without an incident.  In defiance of the Minister' s prohibition to frequent the club in working hours, I invited a clerk to drink coffee and happened to meet Captain Khâm, assistant to the training director.   He was a bad man who told an  orderly to post up a circular saying that officials had to be on time according to  revolutionary ethics.  I tore it and told him not to do this again as the spirit of revolution had nothing to do with Government officials.
 I continued drinking coffee while the clerk rose to invite him to sit down.   Looking at him. I said, ' Don't bother ! Captain Khâm doesn' t like coffee. Leave him alone '.   Turning on me,  Captain Khâm then inquired about the cook' s failure to supply two hundred loaves of bread to the trainees in operation.   The cook said he could only carry out the order of the director.   I replied Captain Khâm was assistant to the director. He then said, ' Do you know for sure I will be paid if I do not  comply with the regualtions ?'.  Captain Khâm felt much humiliated  and in the same afternoon I had to ask the director to sign an official not to be forwarded to the catering division.   Here is another story about him.

     On the closing ceremony of the training course Captain Khâm reserved a big armchair t Captain Khâm was blamed and his hope to be promoted Major had practically gone.

     The government' s representative for the East also came to give some training practice.   The director sent a person to tell me to wear a tie and go with the trainees to greet him.  I smiled as I knew who he was.  The editor and secretary general of the Nation' s Journal * in 1955.  I recalled the days of particular interest in ly life as a journalist with a revolver.  Once, the secretary general shot a Frenchman on Phan đình Phùng St. after the latter beat a helpless Vietnamese woman, thne he and I continued bicycling to the club of  Writers at 75 Phan  đình Phùng St.  In those days  we had plain-clothes guards.  Once, a jeep full of cops pursued a member in our staff to the editorial office after he quarreled with a police officer.  Our headquarters were immediately cordoned off, but an agreement between Nhị Lang ( then a member of Trình minh Thế Caodaist sect  and an assimilated major of ARVN)  was concluded.  We laughed at one another and the following morning our wounded friend departed for Tây Ninh province very easily.   One morning I came back to see if my resignation was accepted and asked for salary.  The Director of cabinet handed me a check of $ 9000. I saw that they paid me four thousand piasters a month.  He expressed the hope that I would cooperate again.  I shook my head and said we would better part.
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*  nhật báo Quốc gia . (TR)

    The following day, after getting money from the Treasury I went to Brodard Café to drink coffee, casting a backward glance on the just travelled road.  That afternoon I paid all the debts at the boarding house and informed Cao Mỵ Nhân of the unhappy developments of our love.  When night fell I went to the
 prostitutes' hamlet  with the hope of finding a woman to sleep and share the Minister-given sum with her.

    I enjoyed the priviledge of putting my savings in the wardrobe though for one day only.  I had brought it when intending to form a family, but now I was forced to give it to the landlady as compensation for two months' debts, and naturally Cao Mỵ Nhân and I could never use it again.  The following morning  I felt like a thinker after a tiring night.   It broke my heart to see the blanket originally reserve for my future wife covering two naked bodies.  I had told  my one night friend not to awake me and to get out smoothly.  My book of poetry Myself for hire * written at the beginning of that year reflected my state of mind then.
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*   Cho thuê bản thân . (TR)

   When then it was published , journalist Nguyễn Ngu Í wrote in  Book News * a very interesting review :
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*  nguyệt san Tin Sách.  (TR)

    '... Indecent, compassionate and brutal, we find in Thế Phong ' s poetry all these.  But its sincerely cannot be questioned.  Maybe it is the peculiar mark of this so-called self- exile :   ' I have written to be a self-exile. Out at the streets I was a perfect stranger to others '.  A self-exile character of Jean- Paul Sartre,  Frantz in The Condemned of Altona - used to defend himself in front of crabs when sitting in a closed room.  That personality is a liar to himself on exile.  Frearing his contemporaries  cannot understand him., he turn his back on life when expressing his refusals, his quarrels and his dreams.  Of course, we knew that it is extremely sad to be forced to choose this attitude ...' 
     ( Book News,  October 1962 )

     I read this article towards the end of 1962, two months later than its publications.  He who praised me highly was an ex. patient of Biên Hòa Asylum.  In fact, I alone knew I was a self-exile and this only became known to others long after it happened and Mr Nguyễn Ngu Í was not an exception.  When I handed in my resignation, of course, Mr Paulus Hiếu would not  let me in peace.  The bastards would use every means within their power to harm me.  As for me, I had had a good reason not to fear death as I told a brother of mine turned bobby for the Minister that I would go down into history much sooner if they put me in jail ot killed me .  The government was not so silly as I thought.  After that, I stayed home, cooked rice for myself, continued writing  Reappraisal of Nguyễn đức Quỳnh * and Jacques Perry and What Id Absurdity ** reread L' Amour de Rien, translated an article on the miserable of Essenin , written by Victor Serge.  Had he not lived with the leader and translated his books,  the world would not have Léon Trotsky work to read.  Thank you also for you  Carnets, Victor Serge .
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* Nhận diện vóc dáng Nguyễn đức Quỳnh      **  Jacques Perry & thế nào là phi lý ? (TR)

    One Sunday morning at the approach of Tết Festival ,  Cao Mỵ Nhân came to see me.  Seeing I was cooking she felt pity for me and hastened to do it for me.  Our lunch comptised omelet prepared by her own hands.  Looking at her through the window I knew it was the very last time we could be happy together.  A few days later, she joined her great family in Ban mê Thuột forTết Festival and sent me three hundred piasters along with a letter. It was the first time I received a gift from a woman and I thought I would have to send her a more expensive gift.   I could do nothing as my stomach was empty.  I bought a sunflower plant with a single bloom, a pair of bánh chưng * and enough incense to burn in three  Tết Festival days.  I remembered my mother, my father and my whole family long ago.  It still remains in my mind, I saw her off at the bus sattion at five in the morning.  I met journalist Phan Nghị who smiled as if to ask where we would go to celebrate the Tết Festival. She wore jeans and looked like Audrey  Hepburn.  Some lines in the poem :
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*   bánh chưng  is served regularly at Tết Festival, the Vietnamese New  Year' s  festival,  which occurs during the             first three days of the first month of the lunar calendar .   (TR)

           '...   The wall painted in blue are pleasing to the eyes today
                  The landlord is still busy to deck the floor in the color of hope
                  As for me I close the door, burn the incense and sit by myself
                  I look at your picture and call your name many, many times

                 You' re still looking at me like a sunflower
                  I have nice dreams, but I know they will never come true
                  So sadness pervades my soul and the world.

                  The misty morning I saw you off it was very cold indeed
                  But I felt happy seeing you bright eyes and rosy lips
                  I was sure to be able to go through the tortures of life
                  Even when I was scalped, so that gooseflesh rose on my back 
                  All I need is to see your frail silhouette on the boulevard
                  Your ivory hands have always induced me to write
                  When you look at me affectionately I live in faith in life
                  I want to reaffirm I have the courage to undergo all sufferings, 
                                                                                    no matter how great
                  The more thought of having you is enough to make me happy ...'

      After Tết Festival Cao Mỵ Nhân came to see me only once or twice on Sundays.  My poem ANGER you' ll read depicts our very last encounter, as I never met her again after that.  In previous visits we used to walk through a kitchen garden.  Looking at it she uttered her complaints about life and urged we walked from Tân sa Châu  hamlet to the corner Trương minh Giảng and Yên Đổ Sts.,   then rode a taxi to the Ascending Dragon Inn *  at Dakao.   While eating we saw a girl friend of Cao Mỵ Nhân' s with her husband.   After introducing her husband to Cao Mỵ Nhân, she reproached her for not attending her wedding. Cao Mỵ Nhân said, '  My wedding will take place very  far from Saigon to save money  for my husband; he is now still very poor '. I felt  horribly sat at these words.  It was our last meal in public. And here was our last at home that memorable Sunday.   As she cooked rice and fried eggs I looked to follow the silhouette of my very nice would be wife and felt most happy.  After the lunch Cao Mỵ Nhân took a siesta on my bed and I on a bench.  Her hair floated on two pillows, one blue and the other red.   We spent the afternoon talking.  At eight in the evening when Cao Mỵ Nhân  was about to leave for her school,
 I felt compelled to tell her what I should.  She would graduate in the near future and would be deployed to a place we could not tell ahead of time and my path of life would be much, much somber.  I could not get married while I had no real profession.  My attempt to become  a taxi driver had failed.  Mind you, I did not regret having pursue literature, but I felt I was no victor in all fields.   There was one thing I had to admit
 I could not live without writing.  In the last ten years, I had fought hypocrisy wholeheartedly.  Western readers easily forgave the faults of writers like Rimbaud, Verlaine , J. J. Rousseau, and more recently,
Jean-Paul Sartre; but my people would never leave me alone, though my presence did charge a lot of things in the literary world here.   The plagiarists, the bobbies should think of me before carrying out a dirty plan.  They hated me but they should pay me respect.  In only urged them to recognize their faults and correct themselves.  Poet Đông Hồ hailed me as here, Mai Lâm-Nguyễn đắc Lộc claimed that everybody knew me, journalist Thái Lân admitted  I had gone far  in my search for sainthood,  essayist Nguyễn đình Tuyến considered me as here a typical of the world today, Le Journal d' Extrême Orient called me le critique éminent **  and  journalist Nguyễn Ngu Í held me I was a self-exiled writer of great talent.  Do accept this expression of gratitude to your sincere appraisals of myself although I do not agreee with  you always, because of many obvious reasons.
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*    quán chả cá Thăng Long  **  In French in the text. (TR) 

                                                               
   At dusk I explained to Cao Mỵ Nhân that our love had entered its fifth years, and she should not wait for my any longer, we had better not meet again as this would cause her all sorts of troubles.  When a girl loves passionately it is your duty to tell her to refrain  from giving you the gift of herself.   So I told Cao Mỵ Nhân we had better part.  Moreover I could not afford to marry a girl and feed my  future children when I got only two empty hands.  She retorted that I  had given up any hope of becoming a VIP.  And I related a story concerning myself not long ago.  After many months of working, artist painter Vị Ý and I went downtown and ordered two pairs of best quality UNIC  shoes at  Lê thánh Tôn St.  Some days later, the trainees looked at us, hinting that we had used shoes of a cabinet Minister.  How the hell should they feel  that way ?  I had not slightest idea but I replied , ' Do you really  think I cannot assure responsibilities as a
Minister ?  I assure you I may become a Minister in two or three years, and it's not difficult to be a  Minister ? '.  Some reported on it and I was blamed As time passed, I felt more and more convinced it was not difficult to be a Minister,  but it was really difficult to eradicate bribery, fraud, and theft of foreign  aid.  We were in need of people like Indian Minister of Defense Krishna Menon who rode a bicycle to his office and received a nominal salary.    I was only willing to be a  Minister in a cabinet of good-willed people who think of serving more than enjoyment.  As of now, I was satisfield to choose the most modest job which would enable me to earn my living and to know the genuine longings of a simple Vietnamese citizen.

    Because  I had lost two precious things in my life as a man : love and earnestness .

     
                                                                   ***

    Now she wept.  She was weeping profusely. I refrained from handing her a handkerchief as tears would be most effective in relating her.  Suddenly she put her arms round my neck and her head settled for a moment against me.  I told her to wait for some months, but I knew it was a lie and so did she.   I dared not kiss her as I felt unworthy of her.  Alas, she did not understand this attitude ; she later thought I did not love her.  I still received some letters while she was in Đà Nẵng .

     When I was about to move, I wrote to Mr Cao văn Phương, her father, saying that I would enlist in the army  and consequently, I could not marry  Cao Mỵ Nhân  He would  rejoice as he had never been fond of me , and  now, I gave his daughter back to him, untouched.

    A year later the news of her marriage reached me.   I was grieved in two years.  Dear me, I had to admit my utter helplessness this time.  Let me read the poem  ANGER again, my very last love-token to Cao Mỵ Nhân. ( I  want to give here a footnote to facilitate the work of future literary critic.  I wrote the line 
' I turned my back on the bourgeois flowery step to depart '   after  leaving the residence of Mr Đoàn Thêm, Vice director of the President' s cabinet and poet who professed to bind the old nad the new, the East and the West into harmony in ptose and poetry.  Mr Đoàn Thêm , thank you for lending me one thousand piasters.  I still cannot pay this debt, but I have written one line of poetry for you. So you see well that every line of my poetry has a history of its own ).

    There were nights I met Cao Mỵ Nhân in dreams.  At the  awakening, I felt deeply sad.  I saw her in dreams in two morw years.  After Nusch of Paul Éluard died, the poet suffered horribly and lost his source of inspiration.   At least,  he had a happy time before loosing it.   In my case, it seemed that  we had never had even a single happy minute.  My readers, please let me lay this wreath for my lost love.

                                                                ANGER

                   I close  the door to avoid the strange sunlight of the afternoon of defeat
                   When you were leaving I dared not turn my eyes to follow you
                   From morning till noon till evening and then another night
                   Nothing happened in my boardinghouse except for one thing :
                                         inanimate things, my close friends, were beaten by me
                   Holding my pen I wrote incessantly
                   Three pillows, blue and red, scattered here and there
                   The pink handkerchief lay beside the blanket full of the past
                   The handkerchief I ' ve never used to wash my face with
                   I only put it on my eyes and lips on nights .

                   I don' t want to see daylight which makes my eyes ache
                   How about your eyes, my love
                   I stop reading the fourth page of newspaper
                   Wedding  annoucements would remind me of you too much
                   Mai A * why don' t you spit on my face
                   I who do not honour my pledge
                   Don' t unfurl your head of hair in front of my mirror
                   Don' t mention your family lest I become angry 

                   After I saw you off darkness beset me
                   I put my two hands on my head
                   Then tortured myself untill I seemed to be scalped
                   Pains induced me to tears 

                   Mai A ,  why do you still feel pity, anger and love for me
                   Is there anyone in this country who seriously pays attention to others ?

                   I pretended to have two sightless eyes
                   And condemned myself as a coward
                    I dared not see my face in the mirror
                    Whenever I am I feel contempt for myself at all times
                    I cannot live undisturbed
                    The heap of rubbish and flies have journeyed to the suburb
                    I am  now living in an ill - smelling atmosphere 
                    After turning my back on the bourgeois flowery step to depart

                     After your departure I locked the door
                     Lamps have been lighted but I perceive only darkness
                     Your lovely hair fell on this pillow in the afternoon
                     You lay on this bed.  Alas , it no longer warm .
                                               MYSELF FOR HIRE

                     ------
                       *  Mai A  is another name of Cao Mỵ Nhân . (TR)

                       Thephong
                    

Thứ Năm, 6 tháng 2, 2014

Thephong by Thephong:; the writer, the work & the life - autobiography by Thephong - 4

Thephong byThephong - 4 -  autobiography
dai nam van hien books, saigon 1973 


                             Thephong by Thephong :; the writer, the work & the life
                                                 autobiography by Thephong


                                                        CHAPTER THREE

     I began writing for the Asian Culture Magazine *  edited by Professor Nguyễn đăng Thục. My first article Hàn mặc Tử published in November is an extract from the book
 I completed since my days in Xóm Chùa -Tân định.  I wrote this book as a token of my sympathy to his painful existence, and my decision of embracing poverty to pursue literature.  When I handed the aricle to Lê xuân Khoa, Secretary General of the Vietnamese Association for Asian Culture Relations.  I knew that  I would be well-paid. 
We had then a President who did flavour to everything related to Catholicism.  In fact, this writing would have failed to materialize if not done before 1955, although Hàn mặcTử was an immensely gifted poet.  In a small and weak country a writer had to do many things involuntarily.   The spirit of Phariseeism was extremely common among those in charge of cultural affairs.  I wanted to recall a political-literary event  in charge of cultural affairs.
  I wanted to recall a political-literary event between 1957-1958.  I then finished the last volume of my  Brief History of Vietnamese Literature from 1990 to 1956.
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Văn hóa Á châu (TR)

    At that time Nhất Linh alias Nguyễn tường Tam came back to Saigon and edited Present-Day Culture Magazine * .  I knew that President Ngô đình Diệm met Nhất Linh in Dalat and they reached an agreement.  Nhất Linh was permitted to edit a magazine.  On the other hand, by order of the Presidential Politburo, Trần chánh Thành had to keep an eye on Nhất Linh 's  sundry activitied sundry activities.  So, the magazine had to be censored and was not allowed to be issued on a regular basis. Trần chánh Thành gave bribes to some journalists including Hoàng Phố, pubkisher of Tomorrow ** so as to have them criticize Nhất Linh.  Writer Quốc Ấn carried out this dirty job most eagerly.  If I had my above - mentioned book published, I would seemingly have acted as an agent of Information Minister Trần chánh Thành because I judged Nhất Linh 's merits unsentimentally.  This was  why I delayed its printing until 1959 when this entanglement ceased.  I wrote the book on Hàn mặc Tử out of my genuine admiration for the great poet, but I had always shrunk from my display of partisanship.  How happy could I have been if
 I had acted shamelessly like a Thái văn Kiểm who wrote Hàn mặc Tử while he knew absolutely nothing about this poet, and Vietnam , Past and Present with the obstensible purpose of gaining favours.  Nonetheless, I was sincerely thankful to Hàn mặcTử I got one hundred piasters for each page I wrote about this victimized poet.
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* Văn hóa ngày nay   **  Ngày mai  (TR)
    
     With a ten-page article I could pay one of my many debts.  But I did not tell anybody that I get one thousand piasters from manager Trịnh hoài Đức. I kept going to the library to read and write, and felt most happy.  I wrote  on  Nietzsche at the library in the afternoon, the remaining ahort stories The Soldier from Casablanca and Looking back at my Midway of Life  at the communal house in Phú nhuận *. This autobiography was rewritten thrice and I spent much time on it.  I stayed in the kitchen in  Trần thanh Đạm' s house where I could see the moon nad stars before I slept.  Afterwards I lived at Nguyễn quốc Bảo' s for a few days; I moved from one house to another many times...  Night often overtook me when I was still riding an a bicycle in the street and I was compelled to sleep at the bus-station or in Minh đăng Khánh' s room in a hotel.    The playwright was still single then.  One night I found to mu surprise that Khánh burst into tears when he saw the photo of his younger sister living in the Red-held zone.  Then I understood that article like sensitive plants.   Although Khánh always pretended to be optimistic, he was no exception.    Nguyễn quốc Bảo' s house was at Cầu sơn, seven kilometers from Saigon - but I always rode to his home, even in stormy weather.  I had to face untold hardship.  One day, I came to the library without bringing papers with me .  On the way home, I was stopped by a policeman at the corner of third-precinct -  I don' t remember which one - whgich is now the Policemen' s Hospital at Dakao.   That night I had off my cloth except for the underwear.  I was in the same room with prostitutes, hooligans, thieves - in short, all kinds of criminal suspects.  I  brought with me a love-letter from Cạo Mỵ Nhân  , and the typed sheet of Beware of the Abyss by Lưu quí Kỳ, a document for my forthcoming book on Nguyễn đức Quỳnh ** .  I spent  the whole night in jail in worry.  Fortunately, they were untouched.  The following morning, the policemen succeeded in finding my name in a family list.  The addresses were so analous that he became nervous nad threatened to strike me . Alas, the ploiceman was then more powerful than any top leader of my country, I saddly thought.  At eleven o' clock, the head of the precinct police appears.  After a  lecturing on civics, he proudly said that he never forget to bring his identification card with him.  I was fined twenty piasters .  I was branded a hooligan merely re1gime of President Diệm declined fast in me.  It seemed to me that Mt  Ngô đình Nhu' s deal brought me good to the people .
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*  a  Saigon suburb (TR)    **   Reappraisal of Nguyễn đức Quỳnh.

    My wrote to me at least twice a week.  Our love was so beautiful ! The theme of most poems in If You were my Wife is our passionate love.  The few remaining poems were dedicated to  Diệu Viên  Similarly, Poems by Cao Mỵ Nhân dealt with our love. When  I had her poems mimeographed, Mỵ was greatly grieved.  She thought we should never make known ro the public our secret love.  We were perfect strangers when we happened to meet later at the library. Because an uncle , and at the same time a tutor to Mỵ, usually accompanied her to the library.  He was, I guessed, a certain highschool teacher named Định.  He won the trust of Mỵ' s father. This uncle loved Mỵ very much.  later on, she told me that the two times we came to the cinema Eden together, the Uncle  was there too.  But he failed to recognise us because of his shortsightedness.  I could afford to live easily by writing for the Asian Culture Magazine.  I had to write only some ten pages to have the needed money.  But I had many books  which I could not manage to publish.   I had talked to many publishers but never got an agreement.  I could be  a careless fellow when loitering in the streets.  But once at home, I could not be happy because of the ever-increasing pile of manuscripts.  I would become mad and living in a sort of vacumm without any reders to respond to me.  I asked Mr Nguyễn đức Quỳnh what he thought of mimeographing books,  but he told me it wa untimely to do so.  The following year, I want to see Mr Nguyễn hiến Lê at Kỳ Đồng St.  He thought my project a sound one.  With the encouragement from him and some other people as well, I issued the book Post War Writers *, the fourth volume of my  Brief History of Vietnamese Literatures series in April 1959.
----
*  Nhà văn hậu chiến 1950- 1956 (TR)

     I want to explain here the reason I issued the four volume instead of the first one.  Although I had many influential acquaintances in the Press Office - among them Press Director Hoàng Nguyên - and I had come there from sixty to seventy times in eight months, I could not  get permisssion to print my book.  A high official like Mr Hoàng Nguyên had to reply on reports presented by an inferior serving in the Psywar Department, Mr Trần tán Cửu alias Trọng Lang.  A book should be submitted to various organizations namely Council of Censors, Cultural Affairs and Psywar Department .  He asked me the reason for my long pages devoted to famous reporter-writer Vũ trọng Phụng.  I knew instantly he was chagrined by my appraisal of himself.  I refused to give him the tittle the most typical writer in his time.  He asked for a longer biography section which he got later.  But I felt my appraisal untouched.  Still unsatisfied he refused to give my longed for permit. This was why my page on Trọng Lang was so unbalanced : a long biography followed by a short appraisal.  So, the volume Post-War-Writer was only one I could publish.   On the other hand, it was the first in Dai Nam Van Hien series of Huyền Trân Publishing firm  whose founder was writer Nhật Tiến.  His first book was entitled The Woman in White *.  We planned to have printed and mimeographed editions.  Still, we could not afford to publish all our manuscripts .
----
*   Những người áo trắng (TR)

     I had to pay the printing cost.  What I needed first was a typewriter.  How could I find a typewriter while I was unable to feed myself.  I came to see journalist Uyên Thao as he had an old typewriter.   Maybe it was some ten years old.  I often said it came into life since the day the French attacked the  Capital City of Hanoi.  The machine was practically of no use but I managed to get along.  The watch-maker was often asked to repair it as many as two or three  times a day.  I could only afford to buy a few stencils each time.  
I ate three piasters or sticky rice as breakfast, set to work until noon, ate some black bread, and resumed typing until as late at midnight.  Fearing that too much noise would make thee neighbours sick, I put it on a blanket.   One day when the last stencil was used, i got out for a walk and met an old student merely attending lectures at the Faculty of Letters who knew me as a contributor to the Asian Culture magazine edited by his Dean, Professor Nguyễn đăng Thục. He invited me to his home at Bùi Viện St  for literary discussions as he fed his soul on books and magazines.  I got up early the following morning, took his money, left some words for him, and want to buy a package of stencils with  $ 500.   I just  should publish my books.  Once he sought refuge in journalist Văn Nhân' s to resume writing my book  Writers in Resistance Era * . He told me would I would have money in my trip to Cap Saint Jacques. And I stole money of millionaire Trần Hoài.
  I often laughed at myself. Finishing more than two hundred pages I rushed to  Major historian Phạm văn Sơn, head of Intelligence Training  Centre Cây Mai, and first lieutenant Hoàng ngọc Liên for additional reams of paper which I brought to the mimeographing house at Nguyễn thiện Thuật St immediately.  Nhật Tiến gave me  $ 300 for jackets. Hid student consented to mimeograph without prepayment.  Alas, I happened to be in a very unpleasant and inconvenient position.   My friend Chế Vũ could not lend me money as he planned to publish a book of poetry of his own.   When the printer put the money Chế Vũ handed him in an unlocked drawers, I took one thousand without his knowing.  He later asked me whether he had received three or four thousand piasters .  In these days I was the proofreader of Chế Vũ Book Desires **.  Fortunately my books sold well, partly because I had done much advertising for it . 
----
*  Nhà văn kháng chiến chủ lực 1945- 1950     **   Khát vọng  (TR)

     Triều Đẩu ordered his copy in advance at the Huyền Trân Publishing firm at 504 Red Cross St.  Another  incident was that a stranger from Central Vietnam threatened to sack his house.   Miss Đỗ thị Chi, the manager, told him to get out as the book had been approval by the Government. He lamely pulled out.

    When I met the old friend I promised to refund him.  Unwillingly, I signed on a book dedicated to him to express my gratatitude.    I avail myself of this opportunity to my thanks to all who had lended me money, in spite of themselves.

    Knowing my book sold very well I decided to print the subsequent volumes, enjoying fully the library of the press.  I made use of old publication permits I got when I was still Press Officer. So I was  safe legally even  when Hoàng Nguyên was a very cunning man.  I knew that I submitted only one copy of the manuscripts to the Board of Censors; so, they would never be able to check if the right permit was applied the the right book.  I used the permit No 300 TXB issued by Press Office on March 19,  1956 for the book Story of a Marriage as that of Looking Back at Midway of Life.  Hoàng Nguyên  could only pescribe seizure when my book was released.  Phạm Duy called me a great writer in front of
 La Pagode when he saw the copies of this book being displayed in Portail Bookshop. My size 21 x 33 photo was on the cover, the book was sold at the price $ 200  each copy.  A Chinese bookseller came to my house and asked for a permit  which promptly gave him.  Later an official in the Ministry disclosed Hoàng Nguyên' s intention to jail me which the régime because of that.  One day, Nguyễn đình Vượng, the tentative publisher of the autobiography, was reluctant to sign the agreement after a talk with his counseller Nguyễn mạnh Côn alias Nguyễn kiên Trung.  But I was not worried as in my heart I didn' t believe we could get approval for printing as I meant my book as an attack on the corrupt society.    So, I went on mimeographing books.  My Prewar Writers was better fabricated as I could borrow a new typewriter, having a salary of $ 1000 a month s a proofreaders and additional payment for my writing.  There were months I get nearly $ 4000.  I hope my readers would understand my situation then.  When I published  If You Were My Wife *
I had  permit but had these words printed on the cover A special supplement to Sinh Lực Magazine **. This irritated many officials a lot .
----
*   Nếu anh có em  là vợ   **   Creative Efforts  (TR)

    Soon I was afraid of nothing, I didn' t care whether the Government imposed the ban of my book  or not.  Many bookshops received them, especially Quán cô Nguyệt at the corner of Công lý and Lê Lợi Sts  because they sold  well. Following is the full translation of the letter beginning a rather amusing story .


REPUBLIC OF VIETNAM
MINISTRY OF INFORMATION
79-81 PHAN ĐÌNH PHÙNG  St
             SAIGON                                                                              December, 4, 1959

                                                     DIRECTOR OF PRESS & INFORMATION
                                                                  to
                                                                  THE PUBLISHER OF SINH LỰC MAGZINE
                                                                  MM  VÕ VĂN TRƯNG
                                                                  THẾ PHONG
                                                                  Sinh Lực Magazine Editorial & Executive Office
                                                                  249 Nguyễn thiện Thuật St  
                                                                  SAIGON
        

     Dear Sirs, 

                       Would you please come to my office at 9. a.m on December 1959 for an urgent matter.
            
      Yours truly,

      For the Director of Press
            NGUYỄN VĂN NOÃN
          ( signed & sealed)


    Starting with this urgent official note, I would like to relate here the anecdote of the publication of a book of poetry the title of which sounded rather romantic.  A famous publisher who had issued some hundred books in Hanoi and Saigon wanted to have a book of poetry in his catalogue.  He thought the book would sell well, impressed by the rendering into French in a journal , Si vous m'aviez pour femme ... But the author wanted to relate what the man said to his sweetheart, Si je t 'aurais pour femme.   Vietnamese girls including those wearing low-necked áo dài never dared to say so to suit the fancy of the publisher.

    My first book of poetry was mimeographed without a permit.  It was intended as the special supplement to Sinh Lực Magazine, new volume, number 10, issued on October 25, 1959.  I only submitted it as legal deposit and distributed it for general circulation had never met such a case.  The controller refused to receive it three times.  Fortunately the Ministry of Interior and the Prosecutor's Department agreed to explain why they were the aforesaid official note which had enraged the editor formerly a representative of the first  Assembly and a school inspector.  It was the third official note from the Ministry of Information.  At first, the editor thought the content of the  book was the young love of the poet.  So, he did not care, but to be more precise, he just could do nothing as the  Secretary General was in charger of the solicitation of the manuscripts. Even the manager was a trusted man of the Secretary General. The editor had no real control over the staff; he wrote an editorial only.  And the Secretary General agreed to recognise the poem as a special supplement to the magazine.  But he gave in at last the editor and the Directorate of Press officicials annoyed him too much.  He said, ' Thế Phong, I beg you to withdraw all the copies from bookshops'.  And he added candidly , ' I am sure they will allow you to sell them later '. I simply thought he treated me as little child.  I made up my mind to let things go their course, not to recuperate the copies and ask for permission of any kind.  I was ready to be brought to court if the content of my book was really harmful to society.  If that was not the case I would never come to see them. We  saw the name of Secretary Uyên Thao only once in the cover of Sinh lực Magazine, new volume. It was the number with the special supplement which had cause a big stir among the intelligentsia. At the time Information Minister Trần chánh Thành was President of the Nationalis Revolu-
tionary Movement *  ( the irony is all its members were government officials) and the editor was a former representative.  Therefore, the government supported the magazine by buying  five hundred copies each month at the price of $ 18 each, no matter how badly composed and printed.  There were numbers of less than twenty pages each.  Per contract, we had one hundred pages each issue since number 10.  The editor then got to understand what liberty of press was.  Trần chánh Thánh was not silly as to have the book confiscated and the only thing he wanted was that the Secretary General and the editorial staff should be fired.  The editor was scolded severely; he, in turn, reprimanded the manager, a student of his from hometown Thanh hoá province.   Later, when he met me he did not forget to reproach me because of the  If You Were My Wife ... affair. 
---
*  Phong trào Cách mạng Quốc gia (TR)

    Four full years have elapsed since the publication of the book and now, not one copy is left, even at old books shops were orders received from 60 to 70 % discount and surchage in case of old, rare books .  For example you have to pay only $ 30 for a book whose price is $ 100, For example, $ 55 for the book Looking Back at Midway of Life.  Longtime journalist Trần việt Sơn once told me that he himself saw there students clubbing together to buy my Brief History of Vietnamese Literature at the price of $ 60.  The word touched failed to express what I felt as my readers were young boys and girls. They bought my book because they fully appreciated my sincerity and dedication in time when conscience was not worth  a cent, to use the phrase of author Hoàng trọng Miên.  The noble gesture of my young readers made me think more than the words of the salesgirll of  Portail Bookshop, Mrs Thanh My.  She said, ' Mr Nguyễn ngọc Thơ, Vice -  President, bought your book '.  When I  asked title, she answered, ' If You Were My Wife ' . This delighted and touched me once more. It was the first time my fame was established at Portail Bookshop.   But I have to admit I appreciated the feelings of the youths towards me more than any other thing in this world.  My  mimegraphed books astonished many people including poet Hoàng Trinh alias Phạm xuân Ninh, Director of the National Broadcasting Commission.  On the opening day of the Cultural Club, sitting at the same table with Trương bảo Sơn and Nguyễn thị Vinh, he told me that I was wrongly assessing the political situation of society today which could furnish us better means of media than mimeographing and we were not in resistance period.   Some time later I read on
Bách khoa Magazine the review of the mimeographe book of poetry  The Voice of 
Liberty. * by Hoàng Trinh.   Intended as a gift only, the book was not for sale.  It was more badly fabricated than mine.  I remained speechless at the sight of this book on the  tables in various offices.  Then I came to see  him and asked for the book he borrowed from me since my stay in Triều lương Chế' s.  I guessed  he understood  me better now.
----
*  Tiếng hát tự do  (TR)  

     My publishing house has published sixty works by many outstanding writers *  by mimeographing The latest one was Under the Poet' s Eyes .  

    I sincerely hope my fellow writers and more particularly, my readers, will understand my difficult situation.  Of course, I want to be like others, not different from them.  I remain a man in the street with the lowest standard of living. I have two meals every day including low-price rice, fish and freedom.  My works from  If You Were My Wife   to  Under  the 
Poet' s Eyes were badly printed :

                                   ... My life of prisoner has been full of sweat
                                       I was sad and happy in uncountable ways ...

    In the days devoted to the typing of Prewar Writers , I met Đặng thị Ngọc Oanh who lived in the same street, following her attempted suicide and divorce.  Moved, I went on a walk with her.  We met every night and she always pressed about marriage.  One night she invited me to Cap Saint Jacques **.  At first , I refused for fear or further feud with her old husband. Unfortunately, Oanh stubbornly insisted and I felt it necessary to write to Cao Mỵ Nhân that we had better not meet any more.  My answered our love meant nothing and  she had many suitors.   If I were her I would know her bitter feelings to me.
----
*  the members of  Dai Nam Van Hien Group are : Cao Mỵ Nhân, Liên Hoàn, Thiết Tố, Cao thế Dung alias Cao đan Hồ, Triều Đẩu, Đỗ ngọc Trâm, Ninh Chữ, Nguyễn đức Sơn  alias Sao Trên Rừng, Khải Triều, Phạm xuân dương, Thế Nguyên,  Tạ quang Trung, Lý dũng Tâm, Chu vương Miện, Mai Lâm-Nguyễn đắc Lộc, Bùi khải Nguyên, Đinh xuân Cầu.

**  the beach of Vũng tàu (TR)
    
   I went to Vũng tàu on Saturday. In the afternoon when  I lay on the beach, Oanh told me of her past sufferings and love for me in almost ten years.  Evening appoaching, we returned to the hotel and were to bed.  On the following afternoon we came back to Saigon. Knowing she could not became my wife, I managed to shun her by telling I had to come to the new teaching post in Mỹ tho province. I fact I only moved to Trương minh Giảng St.  I also wrote Cao Mỵ Nhân informing her of the circumstances.  Once more my removal was due to a woman.  This had repeated itself many times.  I came to see Đặng
thị Ngọc Oanh in Tết time and she disclosed she had discovered herself to be pregnant.
I still held Oanh was a vulgar woman and more than that money disappeared between her fingers.  I renewed my vows not to give in, not to approach her, never to see her again.  This last was futile I had to see her when she went to my boarding house.  I pushed her out the taxi at crossroads Sư vạn Hạnh and Lý  thái Tổ Sts after a bitter quarrell.

     As for me Cao Mỵ Nhân she had enlisted as a trainee in Women's Auxiliary Corps.  I  was horribly saddened because I knew much about them when in the French Army.  They were branded as easy girls, nicknamed P.A.F  ( Pouvoir Aimer Facilement ) *.  I consoled myself, thinking of the future following My's graduation.  Alas,  hundreds of conflicting thoughts and feelings haunted and included us to quarrels.
-----
*  Personel Auxiliaire Féminin (TR)

    It was in Trương minh Giảng St  that I learned how to refuse a woman' s love, as described in the short story The Long Night of Love.  I had to praise myself for being wiser through time.  One tagled affair would have caused remorse to me.  The sad eyes of my friend' s wife with six children still reminded me of the past every time I visited my friend.

    As a contributor to the Asian Culture Magazine I used to come to the editorial office to stencil my Brief History of Vietnamese Literature.  I worked from  seven in the morning until two in the afternoon.  The lovely secretary named Oanh, niece of famous playwright Hoàng như Mai, kindly told me, ' You' ll get tuberculosis within one week '.  She shook her head in astonishment as I kept stenciling month after month.  One Sunday morning, I went downtown for breakfast, feeling happy after three long months of ardous work.  A woman asked me a light for her cigarette. She was noble- looking.  After some talking we two  come to Thủ  đức for fortune- telling.  On the way I appreciated her kind  manners and discovered she had failed to meet the right man in her life.  Leaving Thủ đức she propose to come to my boarding  house.  As I was a bachelor I told her to pretend to be my aunt who come to Saigon to buy a sewing-machine.   We bought a vase nad some fruir dor the landlady.  Her family name was  Cao, her given name Nguyện  An inhabitant of Nghệ an province, she claimed to be Cao xuân Vỹ' s nice.  A widow now, she had a married girl.  Mrs Nguyện was a skilled actress. In the evening we had dinner at a popular inn at Trương tấn Bửu St where I often met singer Kim Vui and her husband.  Thinking of miserable artists I felt pity for them and for myself.

    I met with two disappointments in Tết times when I criticized Hoàng trọng Miên' s Complete History of Vietnamese Literature *  in the Asian Culture Magazine with nom de plume Đường bá Bổn.  I pointed out he plagiarized the book Vietnamese Myths and Legends by Nguyễn đổng Chi, published in Hanoi some years previously.  It caused a big stir in literary and press circles as well.  Hoàng trọng Miên and a person named Thức , formely a Caodaist lieutenant, a youth cadre, a secret agent of Dr Trần kim Tuyến and then the Director Mnager of Hoàng Việt Secondary School, had co-operated to publish the book.  When they saw that I was doing them a bad turn, Thức and Nguyễn duy Miễn, a trusted secret agent of Ngô đình Cẩn, planned to get rid of me by all means such as to use Nguyễn mạnh Côn as their mouthpiece to criticize me unjustly, to hire hooligans to harass me in the streets and, if necessary, to kill me,

     All these attempts failed. A brother of my friend  journalist Uyên Thao and Lê văn Thái, informed me of all their schemes.  When a member of Việtnam Phục Quốc Hội Party close to General Nguyễn thành Phương  and Colonel Hồ hán Sơn,  I knew Lê văn Thái well.

    Afterwards Nguyễn mạnh Côn wrote in Bách khoa Magazine to send me his apologies, saying he was cheated by Nguyễn duy Miễn and Hoàng trọng Miên, and he was unaware that Đường bá Bổn was my pen name.  Truly , I did not appreciate this fake excuse. As a critic, he should speak out his thoughts on my book without fear or favour.  That he knew me made no difference at all.   I wrote a short story entitled My Cradle : A Chinese 
Family * with the inspiration drawn from that experience.  Second, at the approach of the Tết Festival, I bought a number of The People' s Daily ** after the National Library clerk disclosed there was the following news, ' We agree to your proposal, writer Thế Phong. Please come today at 5 p.m. to meet us '.  Below was the name of Businessman Văn Cầm with the address 3 Ngô đình Khôi St, Saigon.  That evening an aunt of mine came to see me. The following morning I asked Mr Nguyễn văn Ngơi to make a small inquiry.   Ngơi let me know they had plotted with the police and hoped to catch me red-handed when I came for money.  Businessman Văn Cầm showed Ngơi the forged letter signed  Thế Phong, urging him to give $ 1000,000 for the latter to print books or the authorities would be informed immediately about his irregular practices.   His face as pale as that a corpse, Ngơi said he knew it was not my signature.  All I could do then was to let  the MP' s and the Directorate General of Police know it.  It was impossible to have some words on journals as they were currently not published in Tết time. The following year journalist Anh Quân wrote an article signed Lê Thanh about this affair in Đồng Nai Daily, special last issue of the year.  Later, I found out it was probably a pratice of the goverment aiming at tarnishing the names of opposition personalities.   When one survives  a danger one often thinks of pleasure as a compensation.  So, I did not chase Mrs Nguyện out of my house.  In fact, I thought of making love with her.  Besides,  she was a widow very loyal to her late husband and I liked difficult women very much.  I came to borrow a mosquito-net and hung it up as if to receive guests .
----
*    in The Rubbish Tip Outside the City   **  nhật báo Dân chúng (TR).

   It cost me a lot efforts to convince her.  From then on, she remained in my house, stubbornly.  She asked me some money to buy a pack of cards for fortune-telling.  When she bought her effects to my house I felt very uneasy, fearing I should marry her and forget my love Cao Mỵ Nhân.

    There came one night when she failed to return. I was rejoiced though with some sad thoughts of her, guessing she might have been put in jail, as shown in my poem :

              '  ... In the middle of the night I took your imaginary body in my arm
                    Lamps were unlighted but the door already opened  to await you ...'
                                                                                           ( DISSIMILARITY )

    Every night I waited or her.  More than a week passed.  One night it was she awakened me when I slept soundly.  She told me she had been in Chí hòa jail out of  bad luck and she had been pregnant.  Yes, pregnant after years of loyalty to her husband.  This gave me the creeps, but I did not believe the story.   My only illegitimate son was Mrs Hưởng' s to my understanding.  I managed to move the house of Nguyễn văn Ngơi' s mother at 
Sư Vạn Hạnh St. And I told Nguyện  I was compelled to go to Nha trang for school teaching. By that time I had stopped writing to the Asian Culture Magazine after editor 
Lê xuân Khoa apprised me that Research Department under the jurisdiction of the President 's Office often required about the development of my thought, and Professor Nguyễn văn Trung submitted a report accusing me of being the top saboteur of South Vietnam' s cultural activities ... Besides, the Asian Culture Magazine had started talking politics at the request of Asia Foundation which financed it to my knowledge.

    I had the satisfaction of getting rid of Mrs Nguyện.  Ironically, I still had trouble with Đặng thị Ngọc Oanh, also in pregnancy. She asked Mrs Nguyễn văn Ngơi' s mother some money to go to the maternity hospital, but in vain.  I took money from a friend of Ngơi without his knowledge and came to Hung Vương Maternity Hospital.  When this became known to others, I was forced to live at the expenses of journalist Uyên Thao 's  foster mother at Trương minh Giảng St.   I had meals with her and slept at Uyên Thao' s rented  flat nearby.   I felt pity and love Đặng thị Ngọc Oanh and her newly born daughter. Nguyễn văn Ngơi 's mother said that the baby looked like me very much.  The voice of my conscience induced me to write the poem  My Unique Visit to You and our Daughter :

   ...  Why did  you not come to see me after I was pregnant nine long months ...
        I earnestly awaited you on rainy nights
        Do you not understand our daughter needs you so much ?
        And you shook your head and pushed me to the crossroads
        My eyes are dimming and my blue veins becoming more visible ...

   ... O children whose fathers persue literature passionately
       They can count on their mothers only
       I wander if you will be back this rainy night
       And see our daughter at least once ...
                                         ( DISSIMILARITY )

   One morning I sat in a coffee shop near my house when the friend of Nguyễn văn Ngơi lead a policeman to bring me to the police station.  I had to sign on a paper, pledging 
I would pay the debt of $1000; then I was released.   I saw Đặng thị Ngọc Oanh only once or twice these days.  I never met her again.


    In this period,  journalist Uyên Thao and I decided to run another mimeographing house to publish works critical of the politically wretched society. The first publication was the book of poetry The Clouds from Hanoi (1) by Nhị Thu; the second, Tenacity (2) by Bùi khải Nguyên consisting of poems as bitter as  gall denouncing the régime and fomenting  the revolutionary spirit; the third,  Immensity (3) by newly-appointed judge Đào minh Lượng. His father was worried as the book was published without a permit, given the fact that 
Bùi khải Nguyên, a lieutenant serving in the International Control Commission, had been  transferred to a unit on the front line and a friend of ours, chief of a public affairs team, was blamed for allowing Nhị Thu to display his books in a bookshop at Kiên giang province, and lost his job when he agreed to mimeograph  Studies on Poets and Poetry (4)  by Uyên Thao.  Later,  Uyên Thao was interrogated in the Directorate General of Police.  The fourth publication was my book  Dissimilarity (5) cataloguing all unjust things in society and blaming irresponsable poets and writers.  A typical poem , Conptemtible Men (6) recorded what I thought of Professor Nguyễn văn Trung after he reported that I was a saboteur :
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  *  1- Mây Hà nội   2-  Thiết tha  3-  Vô cùng   4-  Thơ Việt hiện đại   5- Sai biệt   6. Hạ nhân (TR)

          ... When one has  beautiful wife along with nice bed and blankets
              When one' s hair is well-combed, when one' s shoes are shining,
              When one has the soul of a mercenary,
              One is but a servant in spite of the appearance
                                                                                                                                                          (DISSIMILARITY )

      Here is another which alluded to his attitude then:

              I have kids but am seperated from my wife; so, when the evening
                                                                                              lamps are lighted
              I want to touch the neighbour' s kids,
              I love them and speak their language,
              I hope you understand why I refused to shake your hands.

              My wife left her house to come to see me late in a rainy night
              She wore torn clothes and her hair was uncared of
              She had come through guards, barbed wire rolls and hight walls;
              Embracing me, she told me never to receive you as a guest .

        ...   Although you want to promote humanity' s love
              Your words are lamentably unconvincing
              Because you fail to grasp the meaning of love .

              Although you claim to be a philosopher
              You' re but a government' s agent
              Speaking untrue things in the same ways as a salesman
              At the port, at the bus-station and in the express cabin

              Please don' t ask  why I cease to be your friend
              Old acquaintances, we are now strangers
              We ' ve been on the same road, but you have departed ... 
                                                                      ( DISSIMILARITY )

     I wrote this after a night walk with Cung trầm Tưởng. An Air Force officer he now served as Press Officer in the President's Office with Lê văn Thái.  A genuine romantic with a cleansed conscience he would not bring himself to submit reports on his colleagues and did not hesistate to scold dirty people including secret agent, a lawyer writer Nhuệ Hồng alias Nguyễn hữu Thống. Alas, they loved their brothers by lip service and unscrupulously exploited them in the name of charity.  Once, he and I intended to ride a hired cyclo to Catinat St,. drink coffee in Givral, and loudly protest against the phony régime .   We thought the foreign press would cover this incident, making it an exciting news item.  Cung trầm Tưởng later gave up this out of fear.

    In Sáng tạo * editorial office, Nguyên Sa alias Trần bích Lan aked if I consulted the  dictionary when composing verse, hinting that  I was uneducated.  I coolly made clear that he was not in a position to look down on me.  Unmasked he threatened to beat me. 
 I grinned and advised him to be wiser for his own interests.  He boasted he had learned Chinese pugilism, then walked in to Mai Thảo' s room.  That day,  poet- student  Diễm Châu alias Pham văn Rao accompanied me, so, the incident was known to many univeristy and highschool students.  Nguyên Sa later blamed me in his philosophy classes in Chu văn An Highschool. An old student of Nguyên Sa' s, now an apprentice lawyer, persuaded me to take some measure against this injustice.  I wanted instead to express the appreciation of his  mentioning me so sincerely in presence of others.  One night after seeing a war movie starring Gregory Peck and Win-Win Than, I dropped in Paradise  Coffee Shop ** on Lê Lợi St.  Nguyên Sa walked to my table and recounted the incident.
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*  tạp chí  Sáng tạo   **  Thiên Thai (TR)

     Smiling broadly, I assured him I had ceased to  think of it for a long time and deep in my heart, I did not nourrsih any enmity to others though I always commented with sharp irony and grisly humour on their acts, and we got to live no matter how many petty things had occured.  I also expounded that my way of life was to be sincere to myself and do what 
I though to be right.  The iromy was that I had no companion more companionable than solitude, just as a mockingbird only sings for its own enjoyment in the towering clouds .

     There is no doubt I was the most storm-centered writer of my time. In Christmas of 1959, Dr Lý trung Dung gave a  dinner in honor of poets, playwrights, essayistes, editors, novelists on his villa at the corner of Lê văn Duyệt and Phan thanh Giản Sts.  Le xuân Khoa and I represented the Asian Culture Magazine. I wore  plain shirt and turned my back on the dignitaries to join young journalists Uyên Thao, Lý đại Nguyên ... When Moet Chandon champagne was served, the waiter did not bring cups and LU biscuits to our table.  I called him but he pretended not to hear me, even after I repeated the request for the third time. I then told him I wanted to talk to his master.  This awed him, his master being the President 's trusted man who would have been named a government minister had there not occured the Thị nghè Bridge.   Scandalous  accident costing some hundred of lives in a fair organized by him recently.  Dr Dung asked Phạm xuân Thái to be troubleshooter.  With a smile on his lips, Phạm xuân Thái came to us, but it was too late.  I poured champagne to wash my hands with and others joined me.  My anger then subsided and my friends and I came to Uyên Thao 's foster mother 's house to eat sticky rice and deliciously cooked chicken.  In 1960 I hated Phạm xuân Thái for running the artists and writers ' club financed by Dr Lý trung Dung.  Võ đức Diên also opened Anh Vũ Inn to watch the intelligentsia.  He used some personalities including famous musician  and composer Phạm Duy to dispel the air of fear and suspicion that hung over the inn.  There was still another thing.   Võ đức Diên and Lê văn Siêu were co-editors of Xây Dựng Magazine. I argued with Nguyễn đức Quỳnh over the case of Lê văn Siêu who ruthlessly exploited the free-lance contributors.   I respected Nguyễn đức Quỳnh for having boycooted Võ đức Diên and Lê văn Siêu.   Upon Diên' s death, Mrs Nguyễn đức Quỳnh was among his mourners.  She later asked me whether I took part in the funeral.  I flatty answered I could not pay homage to the memory of an architect turned secret agent.  Mrs Quỳnh seemed to be sorry for me but she tried to amuse me by saying that the late man had a very charming daughter.  We all laughed, uneasily.  For the same reason. I deplored the case Phạm xuân Thái who brought himself to be an innkeeper to gather information for the government.  Dr Lý trung Dung was responsible for financing all pro-government cultural  activities.  One the opening day of club, the hell was crowded with guests.  When journalist Uyên Thao and I arrived we met Phạm xuân Ninh who reproached me for mimeographing books.  Then he came upstairs.  As the National Front  for Defense of Freedom of the Press * headed  by chairman Ly trung Dung had just issued the Vietnamese translation of Boris Pasternak' s Doctor Zivago, litho- printed , the innkeeper presented some hundred copies to the guests for inspection, but some did not return the books.  Pale with anger he put the remaining ones in the drawers.   The onetime Minister of Information completely ignored elementary psychology.  Why did he not let these people bring the books home and devour them and by so doing contribute to the anti-communist struggle ?  I want to relate here a feat by the British Information Service in Hanoi. A friend of mine then accused me of stealing a book in B,I.S. Library.  While I was detained at the station house for interrogation one policeman phoned the B.I.S. for confirmation.  Here is the reply a B.I.S. official :  ' He simple had not returned the borrowed book, it is our intention to let him use the book a long as he wants to.  This is our policy, you know.  Vietnamese readers seldom read books intended as gift ...'
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*   Mặt trận bảo vệ Tự do văn hóa (TR)

    I also want to put here the comment of Tam Lang  alias Vũ đình Chí on Free World Magazine *  in Fatherland Daily : ' We Vietnamese don' t like this magazine  because its paper is not fit for domestic purpose '.  I was angered by Phạm xuân Thái ' s brutal attitude, although I had not touched the book because I had read its French version. 
 I want to add among the guests were Dr Đàm quang Thiện, journalist Lê Văn alias Vũ bắc Tiến, Duy Sinh alias Nguyễn đức Phúc Khôi, Nguyễn khắc Ngữ ,  Uyên Thao  and Tuệ Giác alias poet Tuấn Giang , etc... I drank a glass of 33 beer as I felt like to bat someone.  When journalist Duy Sinh addressed me impolitely my anger  rose. But I left him alone as I had always considered him as a bouc émissaire ** in all matters .   Then Tuệ Giác added that I was a cowboy literary genuis. I wanted him to repeat it. He did not speak.  I renewed my request for the third time. Still silence, I then held the glass of beer, walked to  Tuệ Giác' s table and poured beer on his face.  MM Đàm quang Thiện and Lê Văn tried to calm me down while I loudly blamed Phạm xuân Thái, Tuệ Giác and literary pimps Hoàng trọng Miên and  poet Đỗ Tấn alias Đỗ tấn Xuân and revealed to others some behind-the scenes stories.  I left the room and hurried home on a taxi.  Phạm xuân Thái ' s prestige was badly hurt when a journal covered this incident later.
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 *  Thế giới tự do, báo phát không của Mỹ / USIS   **    scapegoat  (TR)

    Meeting journalist Duy Sinh at Life Mgazine * editiorial officeI enlightened him on  the motive of my action the other night. Like him, Uyên Thao and I  were contributors to this magazine which was financed by Communist Victims  Association ** Chairman Ngô trọng Hiếu and directed by his counselor Nguyễn đức Quỳnh.  The price of an essay was $ 400, a piece of creative writing $ 300 and a poem $150. With this means of support we could live and mimeograph books.  One day Communist Victims Association  Secretary General and Life Magazine managing editor Lưu Hùng adked for autographs on a mimeographed book when we came for money.  When we left we turned our eyes back to see if we were followed.  A very bad omen indeed ...
----
*  bán nguyệt san Sống, chủ nhiệm Ngô trọng  Hiếu    **   Hội Nạn nhân Cộng sản  (TR)

   We came owntown and spent all the money we just got, feeling like a death in front of his last delicious meal.

     Every time I got money from the editor, I visited Cao Mỵ Nhân and saw her two big, dark eyes reflecting her worry about our future.  I then planned to flee to France via Cambodia. I had packed all my manuscripts along with the snapshots, tokens of old happy days for her to keep, I knew Cao Mỵ Nhân had to suffer from my rumours because of me.  She often told me her father 's comment on me , ' He was talent but his pride is too great.  Do you want me to bend the knee before him ? '  and her defence , ' He always loves me better after he beats me '.  She had many dreams and used to write stories of conjugal life wherein the husband often quits his family to court a girl, while the wife continues to perserve in her daily duty and eventually they forgive one another and live happily hereafter.  I read these stories in Ngôn luận Daily.  She also wrote a myriad of swell  love poems. ( She once wrote ten poems out of single walk in company with me )

    A girl  with afrail body and a soft mild voice is my destiny.  My affair with Cao Mỵ Nhân was undoubtedly my most memorable one.  A very thrifty girl she recorded all her daily spendings in a notebook.  Revolutionaries need support, witnessing too much death and horror.  I need a wife like Mỵ as an anchor in the world.

   In a visit to journalist Uyên Thao ' s foster mother ' s house, she bitterly reproached me for being too craving for women.  And she persuaded me to be puritan like Uyên Thao, my best friend.   I thought she was less in love with me afterwards and a little inclined to hate me, as if I had refused her love.  Alas, my five year long affair suddenly came to an end one early morning !   I was choked  by memories, happy and sad !  I still remember my trip to Vũng tàu where Cao Mỵ Nhân spent summer holidays with some of her friends. We came to the beach at Eo Quắn.  When she slightly fell on the slope of the hill, her two friends turned their eyes to me, saying ' Do come to her help '.  I replied, ' Life 's realities are not those of Lê văn Trương 's novel wherein men are depicted as women' s servants '.   I later realized I had unconsciously turned nasty and she had been so much hurt that something in her perished .  When we came back we met a very big snake.  They hurried home while I stayed on the spot to smash its head with a rock  Even this is the matter of a poem by Cao Mỵ Nhân :

                                                ADORATION

                                   If the snake on he road
                                   Comes to trail around my leg, 
                                            I' ll burst out laughing and clap my hands
                                   I find death better than going by your side 
                                   With a flame of admiration in my heart 

                                  As I long for love,
                                            my poetry deals with it openly  
                                  While you are sad and unaware
                                  I have wanted to turn my head many times
                                  I don' t think you are sincere through elegant manners.
                                                             CAP SAINT JACQUES, 1960 
                                                               ( POEMS BY  CAO MỴ NHÂN )

    Women  need love more than men do.  A woman wants her lover to say over and over again that he loves her and does not appreciate a too secret love.  I doubted whether Cao Mỵ Nhân ever knew that I had to take great efforts to buy for her a Chanel no 5 bottle of perfume and came just to see the violet flowers in front of her house, not daring to call her out.  We loved each other well, but it was written in the book of fate that we would never live together.  O dear Mỵ, I feared my only scent-bottle could not perfume our love for long.  Many more were needed, but I had never earned as much as $ 10,000 a month in my life, so how could our love endure ?  Once a woman said to me that we did not need money to be happy.  I replied that the encounter would have failed to materialize had I not spent lavishly.  We did need money. Anyway I coud not bring myself to live dishonestly to have money .

                                                                  ***

     In the course of my literary career I received help from namy friends such as eminent critic Nguyễn hiến Lê, Nguyễn minh Hiền alias Lữ Hồ,  Lê xuân Khoa, Trịnh hoài Đức, Phan văn Thức ... Every time I stood in need of less than $ 500 I dispatched a man to get it for me.  In the case of Nguyễn hiến Lê I gave his precious books in return for his help.  They helped me to mimeograph Friedrich Nietzsche (1)  and The Wounded Soldier (2). Another great benefactor of Sùng chính viện and Dai Nam Van Hien was mimeographing house Kỳ Đồng  who worked for us in spite of many dangers.   I remember  MM Ngô đình Ân, Ngô đình Á, and Misses Ngô thị Mỹ and Ngô thị Nga from  Nha trang.  I often said jokingly that they were unlike the Ngô clan athough their family name and faith were the same as the President 's.  After the first coup d' état fizzled out, Miss  Ngô thị Mỹ had to burn all our books !   I regret  journalist Uyên Thao 's failure to wipe off old scores even after he had much money.  As for me I had never got a salary about $ 5000 to pay debts to those who were sometimes poorer than me.   Eldest brother Ngô đình Ân, a former student of Yersin Highschool in Dalat, appreciated fully our books.   His brother Ngô đình Á, a talented painter, illustred the books of poems magnificently.   Ngô đình Á was no  more, he had died in battle in Cần thơ as a conscript who received only $ 120 a month in the training period.  A young poet once advised me to marry Ngô thị Mỹ so that she and I could operate the Dại Nam van Hien (3) Publishing house with more success.  I would write and choose books while she ran the Gestener duplicator .
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(1)   Friedrich Nietzsche & Chủ nghĩa  đi lên con người
(2)   Người thương binh liên khu
(3)   Dai Nam Van Hien means  The Heritage of Great Vietnam .  (TR)


    In mid 1960 I still live on articles sold sold to Life Magazine.  At night I played card with journalist Uyên Thao for fun.  I daytime I read L' Amour de Rien by Jacques  Perry, the only book I read the third time. It was about the love of Martine Sandy and a planned suicide.  The character became a millionaire.  But he could not find the meaning for his existence after serving in the army, smuggling pictures ... In short, after living too long without a purpose.  The author condemns Jean- Paul Sartre 's existentialism as phony, given his real attitute in life.   In this period I sold mimeographed book to a Chinese retailer.  One favorite saying of mine then was, ' Europeans prints books, Vietnamese collect them and  Chinese sell them out '.  This Chinese man could appreciate interesting books.  He bought Post Writers from me at the price of $ 30 each copy, and sold it at $ 60.  He made money and so did I . He also procured rare French books . 

                                                                               ***

    It was a tumultous day when the putsch broke out *.  People crowded the streets to watch fierce fighting. Not fearing stray bullets some climbed trees in nearby to look the Presidential Palace. A business- minded man could sell the place to another for  thirty or foury piasters.  I heard that a seller was lucky enough to recuperate the priviledged place after the buyer was killed.  A few people even shouted, ' Let 's go and get Madame Ngô đình Nhu, let 's strip her and pull out all her public hairs ' .  '  After the coup failed many had troubles.  A policeman climbed the Bà chiểu Market gate to put down the picture of President Ngô đình Diệm and was later arrested. On 12 th, November, my neighbour, a lieutenant, tore the picture of President Diệm  and rejoiced.  In the afternoon the same day he sighed pitifully and got another picture to hang on the wall.  Thereafter he was very reluctant to meet others.  Fortunately the cops did not keep an eye on us as most of our visitors were officers.  In those days judge- poet  Đào minh Lượng  often came to see me and Trâm, Uyên Thao 's charming foster sister.  She previously left her house to follow  a movie actor, but eventually came home to start her life again.  Lawyer Nguyễn tường Bá also came to see her, but he pretended to visit journalist  Uyên Thao.  On rainy days when we found ourselves destitute, the torture for me -  and how much more was its so if Trâm were my sweetherst - was to witness her fasting.  Before arriving here I had known hard times in  Catholic Refugees Hamlet days,  Đào minh Lượng and I shared every ten piasters that happened to be in our pockets. We often came to eat at Đào minh Lượng 's' house.  I could never forget these meals in the cosiness of a family. His mother treated me like her own son and often asked my opinion on family matters.   When a highschool teacher came to ask the hand of her daughter Liên, she said,' Dear Phong, my son Lượng like you and so do I, though you' re poor . He told me you' re well educated though
 you' ve never sat for an examination and that he used your Introduction to Politics ** as reference book when he was a freshman at the Faculty of Law.   I would like to ask you to choose the right man for Liên and then you, Lượng and I will live together for ever.  I trust you '. 

     I respected her as my own mother.
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*   11 November 1960.        **  Muốn hiểu chính trị / Thế Phong / Saigon 1955    (TR)

    In our hamlet  there lived an unmarried middle-aged woman from a rich family in Hải phòng province.  She liked me  well. She once handed me her photo of long ago and told me I was the only man to see it.  A fervent Buddhist she used to come to the pagoda to pray for us.  Of course I had nothing to offer her.  When I moved away she gave me ten cinnamon apples whose flavour I have always reembered.

   Cao Mỵ Nhân was jealous of Trâm.  I explained she was Nguyễn tường Bá 's girl-friend, not mine.  In fact, I considered Trâm as my little sister, and she treated me as her own brother.

    It was the first time I succeeded in mastering myself  and my desires.  I also refrained from making love with the wife of T.,   a friend  who liked me well in Trương minh Giảng St., near the Văn Lang Theater. Alas, it was women who caused all my sufferings in life !  It is true that love cause innumerable wrongs, but  I  cannot scape it.


                                                                            ( to be continued : chapitre four )

    The phong.