52 pages • 1 hour read
Monique TruongA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The novel opens at the main train station in Paris, with Binh accompanying his employers, Gertrude Stein and Alice Toklas, on their way to their ocean voyage to America. Photographers are flashing lights and snapping photos, much to Stein and Toklas’s delight. They are now the centers of attention, something Stein in particular craves. Binh has gotten a letter from his oldest brother, Anh Minh. Binh had written him five years earlier when he began his tenure at the women’s household as their cook. Binh hasn’t been home to Vietnam in 11 years, while the women are returning to the US after some 30 years.
Binh arrived in Paris in 1926, a few years before the 1929 stock market crash and ensuing hard times. Binh notes that the Great Depression chased many Americans from their homeland to Paris, where they could drink (Prohibition in the US curtailed that activity in America) and gather in cafes or homes such as Stein’s to discuss art, literature, and philosophy.
However, the Great Depression followed the Americans to France, as evidenced by the booming business at local pawnshops. Many are now heading back to the US. The Parisians have mixed feelings about American expats: “Parisians could more than understand the whoring and the drinking, but in the end it was the hypocrisy that did not translate well” (7). When the American expats arrived in Paris in large numbers, the city had indulged their vices, but now much of Paris had tired of the Americans.
Binh faces a choice: remain in Paris, go to the US with his Mesdames, or return to Vietnam, where his father and brothers still live.
This chapter opens with a classified ad for a cook for two American ladies. Binh reflects on how difficult it is for him to express himself adequately since he knows little French. He discusses how at the Governor-General’s house, Madame and Monsieur would berate servants in French, knowing they understood little of the language. What the servants knew was how to bend and bow, which is what the employers wanted.
Binh remembers his father’s chastisement of how ungracious and disrespectful Binh was to waste his opportunity in the Governor-General’s kitchen, a position that Anh Minh, Binh’s eldest brother, had set up for him. Binh can never get away from the internalized voice of his father: “While his body lies deep in the ground of Saigon, his anger sojourns with ‘a no-good lout’ on a Paris park bench. Even here, he finds me” (12). Even though Binh’s father, whom Binh calls the Old Man, is presumably dead, these imaginary conversations continue because of Binh’s unending guilt and his memories of the man’s cruel brutality.
Anh Minh believed that when the previous chef died, he’d naturally assume that position as next in line. However, Madame and Monsieur instead brought in a Frenchman, Chef Bleriot. With this development, Binh realizes that his brother will never move up in the Governor-General’s kitchen. Binh understands that being Vietnamese in French-controlled Vietnam means never rising above a certain station, but The Old Man and Anh Minh persist in hoping for the impossible.
In three years of living in Paris, Binh has come to know the streets of the city better than the average lifelong resident would, a skill that helps him find jobs. Binh’s potential employers fall into three categories. The first will often slam the door on him the moment they see he’s Vietnamese. The next group seems intent on interrogating him as if he were an agent of the French government. The third are collectors who will hire him to pry his sad story from him because they want to play the role of savior to an outcast.
At the chapter’s end, Binh meets with a concierge, who instructs Binh not to “blink an eye” (20). The concierge explains that the two women—his prospective employers—are unusual and hints at the pair’s unconventional lifestyle, though he is quick to add that they are nice.
For Binh, the Stein and Toklas household, “[t]his is a temple not a home” (22). He describes Toklas as the temple guardian, who types and proofreads Stein’s manuscripts and looks after Stein in every way—the implication is that Stein is the temple’s sacred center.
Binh has a recurring dream of his father lying in a casket and Binh making a speech at the funeral, exposing his father’s cowardice to everyone. In the dream, Binh speaks fluent French.
A flashback to when Binh first left Saigon and went to sea introduces Bao, Binh’s shipmate on the ship the Niobe. Bao tells all kinds of stories, and one of his favorites is of Serena the Soloist, an adult entertainer who fascinates Bao. Binh asks Bao why he’s a sailor when his name means “storm,” but Bao only laughs in response.
Bao and Binh have a bond—a shared homeland and language that excludes everyone else aboard the ship.
Binh returns to the Stein house to apply for the cook position and meets Toklas.
Binh explains how the household operates and what the Mesdames look like. He describes Toklas’s moustache and lively eyes. Stein, Binh says, has a sturdier build and overly large ears and nose, but “carries herself as if she is her own object of desire. Her self-induced lust is addictive in its effect” (28).
Binh describes the relationship between the women: Stein is the star, while Toklas is the willing helper. Toklas has taken over the typing duties to preclude Stein from forming intimate relationships with others: “Miss Toklas has long since made herself indispensable” to Stein (30).
Stein and Toklas nickname Binh “Thin Bin.” He yearns to hear his name said properly, but every employer pronounces it wrong.
Binh discusses the pair’s two dogs, a poodle named Basket and a Chihuahua named Pepe, and how the women’s affectionate relationship with the dogs is more foreign to Binh than their language. Binh remembers his brother Anh Minh quipping, “Only the rich can afford not to eat their animals” (33).
Stein’s French is not much better than Binh’s and he finds that while they converse, they try to convey their meaning with simple, terse sentences complemented by body language. This similarity bridges their differences in race, gender, and nationality.
Nightly, Stein works on French lessons with Binh, using an English-French dictionary and illustrations. While they play this game, Toklas needlepoints. Stein seems amused by how Binh navigates the language maze.
Stein transforms from a friendly and unique employer to a regular “collector” employer as she asks Binh how he defines love. He sees the query as an attempt to pry loose from him his own sad tale. He points to a bowl of quinces and shakes his head, walking out of the room.
Binh writes an enigmatic description of Dr. Marcus Lattimore, a character who has not yet been introduced: “I will forget that you entered 27 rue de Fleurus as a ‘writer’ among a sea of others who opened the studio door with a letter of introduction and a face handsome with talent and promise” (37). Binh is attracted to Lattimore, and his language is romantic and full of yearning: “Waves are coursing through my veins. I am at sea again” (37).
Lattimore beguiles the Mesdames, and he asks if he may employ Binh as a cook for a dinner party. Binh agrees to the job. He finds Lattimore very handsome but doesn’t expect much except earning enough money to replace his old, fraying clothing and footwear. Lattimore meets Binh on the street, looking dapper and quite Binh’s type. When Lattimore asks Binh to conduct the interview, the word “interview” reminds Binh of his lower station and place as a servant.
The first chapters introduce Binh’s family in Vietnam, especially his cruel father who feels that accepting Anglo-European cultural mores will elevate his status in French-controlled Vietnam. He has accepted Catholicism, but he lives in ways antithetical to church teachings. He only values his wife as a child bearer and only admires his eldest son, Anh Minh. Binh’s inability to get past his father’s verbal and emotional abuse manifests in internal arguments with his father’s imagined voice and vengeance-taking dreams in which Binh unmasks his father’s flaws for all to see.
These chapters also introduce themes of Race and Sexuality and how they intersect with class privilege. A deeply observant man, Binh sees through the hypocrisy and self-delusion that those around him take for granted. As a young man, he realizes that his brother will never reach his potential as a cook—white people will always be promoted over Vietnamese. He finds it disturbing that neither his father nor brother accepts this reality; instead, his father adopts the customs of the country’s occupiers in a futile attempt to propitiate them. Later, in Paris, Binh resists the desires of his employers to treat him as a second-class citizen, either through hostile or benign racism. Instead, he watches them closely enough to categorize them, taking back power to a small degree. Still, the fact that he needs to watch, understand, and anticipate his employers’ wishes while they can disregard him highlights the steep power differential between them.
This section presents the first inkling of Binh’s same-sex attraction when he describes his desire for the handsome Lattimore. The man’s condescending manner and Binh’s disappointment that their servant-employer relationship will probably preclude a romantic one is a microcosm of Gertrude Stein and Alice Toklas’s dynamic. Binh sees that the couple has developed a completely unbalanced power-sharing system: Toklas is always second in importance to the self-obsessed Stein, running the entire household based on Stein’s whims.
Binh focuses a great deal on Language as a Bond and Barrier in this section of the novel, showing how it can limit or deny, keeping one isolated and unsuccessful, or, alternately, how it can bring one opportunity. He is frustrated with his inability to converse freely in French and feels cut off and underestimated due to this. He wishes he could hear his name pronounced correctly by the Westerners he meets but settles for his nickname “Thin Bin.” We see how colonialism seeps into the colonizer’s psyche, making them superior and offensive, intentionally or unintentionally. Language is one tool the colonizer uses to exert control over their subjects, and Binh’s dream in which he speaks fluent French reveals his desire to be seen as an equal in French society. Alternatively, language becomes a means of connection when Binh meets Bao, and they enjoy conversing in a language others do not understand. Language levels status somewhat when Binh and Stein communicate in their less-than-perfect French. Though they are employee and employer and Vietnamese and American, respectively, they both struggle to make themselves understood in their expatriate home.