56 pages • 1 hour read
A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Having fled Vietnam, the plane with the narrator, the General, Bon, and the rest of the evacuees lands at a refugee camp in Guam. Bon is inconsolable after the death of his wife and child: “I wept,” the narrator says, “but I was no match for Bon, who had a lifetime’s worth of unused tears to spend” (51).
The General, still dressed in his military uniform, tells the narrator he would like to visit his fellow refugees in their barracks (“Our people need me,” he says) to help boost morale. The narrator accompanies him, but the visit has the opposite effect on the refugees. Having set a mere foot in the camp, the General is surprised when he is pelted with a woman’s slipper. Soon, all the women in the vicinity have emerged from their tents and begin beating the General with their slippers, demanding to know where their husbands are and mockingly calling him a “hero.” The General’s uniform is torn to shreds by the women, so the narrator finds him civilian clothes.
Bon’s wife and child are buried the next day. The narrator writes that losing his wife and son without knowing who killed them will define Bon forever: “The bullet would forever spin in Bon’s mind on a perpetual axis, taunting and haunting him with the even chance of coming from friend or foe” (54). A few days later, the narrator and the rest of the General’s inner circle are transported to Camp Pendleton, a Vietnamese refugee camp in San Diego, California. Bon continues to be distraught in his grief.
The General asks the narrator if he has given any thought to whom among the refugees might be a sympathizer, someone spying on the General’s inner circle on behalf of the Communists. The narrator nervously selects an innocuous suspect he refers to as the “crapulent major,” someone that will “sidetrack [the General] but who would not be an actual spy” (58).
Meanwhile, everyone makes arrangements to leave Camp Pendleton for Los Angeles: Bon becomes janitorial staff at the Church of Prophets, the General and his wife, referred to by the narrator as “Madame,” open a liquor store, and the narrator lands a clerical position in the Department of Oriental Studies at a university. The narrator’s boss is the Department Chair of the Department of Oriental Studies, a white man who fancies himself the absolute authority on all things Asian. “He had hung an elaborate Oriental rug on his wall, in lieu, I suppose of an actual Oriental,” remarks the narrator of his boss’s objectification of Asian culture (62). Sofia Mori, a middle-aged Japanese woman, is theDepartment Chair’s secretary.
The chapter concludes with the narrator writing a letter to his aunt, telling her/Man about the newly formed Vietnamese refugee community in America: “Before leaving camp [Pendleton], we exchanged the phone numbers and addresses of our new destinations, knowing we would need the refugee telegraph system to discover which city had the best jobs, which state had the lowest taxes, where the best welfare benefits were, where the least racism was, where the most people who looked like us lived” (69).
The General is making plans for the grand opening of his liquor store, setting the opening date for late April to coincide with the year anniversary of the fall of Saigon. Bon is hired as a part-time bouncer for the store. Meanwhile, the narrator begins a casual sex relationship with Ms. Mori, who is fiercely American (“I damn well know my culture, which is American”) and who “does not believe in marriage but [she does] believe in free love” (76).
The General invites the narrator for a private meeting along with Claude, who is back in America after narrowly escaping Vietnam as North Vietnamese forces finally overtook Saigon. Claude’s arrival in Los Angeles is perfect timing; the General says, “We have an informer. A spy” (86). The General relays to Claude the narrator’s intel, that the crapulent major is likely the spy. Since the narrator was the one to choose the crapulent major as an evacuee, the General asks the narrator, “Do you agree that you must correct your mistake? I thought you would” (87). In this instance, “correcting his mistake” means that, with the help of Bon, the narrator must assassinate the crapulent major—a man that the narrator, the true spy, knows to be innocent. When discussing plans for the crapulent major’s murder with Bon, Bon happily agrees to do the “dirty stuff” of executing the actual murder, so the narrator will be responsible only for logistics of the plan. The narrator feels guilty for knowingly plotting the murder of innocent man. “The only compensation for my sadness,” the narrator says, “was the expression on Bon’s face” (89). With a job of great importance to the General, Bon is happy to have a renewed purpose.
On the grand opening of the liquor store, the party is populated with many other Vietnamese refugees. The crapulent major is in attendance, and the narrator asks him—as a man of Chinese descent and great lover of food—to show him where the good Chinese food is in Los Angeles. The crapulent major, an affable man, “who love[s] food and friendship, someone without an enemy in this new world, except for the General,” enthusiastically agrees to accompany the narrator (92). Sonny Do, a former college classmate of the narrator, is also at the liquor store’s opening party, and he and the narrator chat, beginning to reconnect. Sonny is a man of “utter conviction” and the editor of a newspaper (93). They promise to catch up at a later date.
The next day, the narrator has breakfast with the crapulent major, where he goes on about his love of food and the fact that his wife just had twin boys, named Spinach and Kale. Later in the evening, the narrator attends a goodbye dinner party for Claude, who is leaving for Washington D.C., and continues to be overcome with guilt about plotting to murder the crapulent major. The narrator tries to convince himself that, on some level, the crapulent major must be guilty: “Innocence and guilt. These are cosmic issues. We’re all innocent on one level and guilty on another. Isn’t that what Original Sin is about?” (103).
The narrator continues to move forward with the murder plot, and begins trailing the crapulent major to learn his routines. He observes the crapulent major’s sad, nightly commute from the gas station where he works as an attendant to his home a few blocks away. On the night of the murder, Bon and the narrator wear UCLA sweatshirts and trail the crapulent major on his way home. Bon hides behind two cars until the crapulent major approaches the carport and has a brief exchange with the narrator, sitting in the front seat of his vehicle. Bon emerges and shoots him in the forehead, “a third eye, weeping blood” (109). When Bon and the narrator return to their shared apartment, they toast to the crapulent major, but the chapter concludes on a note of guilt, with the narrator thinking about that “third eye”—the bullet hole in the major’s forehead—“weeping because of what he could see about me” (110).
In Chapters 4 through 6, the reader sees each of the characters in an entirely different light: Bon, the soldier turned janitor; the General, military commander turned liquor store owner; and the narrator, aide-de-camp turned administrative assistant. The closer the Vietnamese characters are to America, the further they are from the American Dream.
In Chapter 4, we meet the Chair of the Department of Oriental Studies, who is just one of many American characters in The Sympathizer who presume to know better than the narrator what is best for him and “the Orient” at large. This so-called expert in Oriental Studies says that, as a biracial person, the narrator must “reconcile your divided allegiances” so that he can be “the ideal translator between two sides, a goodwill ambassador to bring opposing nations to peace!” (65). The Department Chair flattens and politicizes the narrator’s identity. Contrary to what the Chair thinks, the narrator’s bifurcated identity makes him the ideal spy, not a “goodwill ambassador.”
In plotting the crapulent major’s death, the narrator painstakingly deliberates if it is the right thing to do: “Nothing was more clear-cut than civilization versus barbarism, but what was the killing of the crapulent major? A simple act of barbarism or a complex one that advanced revolutionary civilization? It had to be the latter, a contradictory act that suited our age” (102). Another contradiction, the narrator decides, is the idea of an “innocent major”—meaning, anyone involved with the war has blood on their hands, so in a sense, the crapulent major is guilty and therefore deserving of death. Still, just before the narrator and Bon kill the crapulent major, the narrator has another crisis of conscience, one that takes the form of his mother’s ghost. She appears before him: “‘Are you sure you want to do this, son?’ My mother said. ‘It’s too late, Mama. I can’t figure a way out’” (108). Spirits as the embodiment of guilt are a common symbol throughout the book.
Plus, gain access to 8,800+ more expert-written Study Guides.
Including features:
By Viet Thanh Nguyen