Ocean Vuong

Ocean Vuong

Who is Ocean Vuong?

Ocean Vuong, born on October 14, 1988, in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon), Vietnam, emigrated to the United States at the age of two. He is a celebrated writer whose semi-autobiographical bestselling novel, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, serves as a poignant letter from a son to his mother, who he understands would be unable to read it. This work garnered critical acclaim and won the New England Book Award for Fiction in 2019, solidifying Vuong’s status as one of the most distinguished literary voices of the decade.

In addition to his novel, Vuong has published two acclaimed poetry collections. Night Sky with Exit Wounds (2016) received the prestigious T.S. Eliot Prize, while his second collection, Time is a Mother (2022), explores the emotional complexities following the death of his mother from breast cancer in 2019. Through his works, Vuong has made significant contributions to contemporary literature, addressing themes of identity, loss, and the immigrant experience.

Early Life and Relationship with His Mother

Vuong immigrated to the United States from Vietnam at the tender age of two, settling in Glastonbury, Connecticut, just outside Hartford. At the time, his family had no command of the English language. Soon after their arrival, Vuong’s mother made the difficult decision to leave his father due to his abusive behavior. As a result, Vuong has minimal knowledge of his father, aside from the fact that he eventually faced legal consequences for criminal activities. His mother, unable to read, dedicated herself to supporting the family by working in a nail salon for 25 years.

During his third-grade years, Vuong discovered his passion for reading through Patricia Polacco’s Thunder Cake, which he later described as “the first book that I loved” in a personal essay for The New Yorker in 2017. In this essay, formatted as a letter to his mother, he candidly recounted a painful memory of being struck by her at the age of four, as well as instances of her throwing household items in frustration.

Despite these challenges, Vuong regards his mother as his entire world. He expressed in an interview with NPR, “Everything I have done, I’ve done for her. I went to school for her. She gave me no pressure… There’s a stereotype of the Asian tiger mom. My mother was never such a mother.” Instead of imposing strict expectations, she encouraged his pursuit of happiness, often reassuring him that if all else failed, he could always find work alongside her at the salon. Reflecting on this freedom, he stated, “I had ultimate freedom to explore, and I think for me, you know, that freedom really was all to serve her.”

Education and the Journey to Writing

The complexities of Vuong’s relationship with his mother may stem from her experiences with post-traumatic stress disorder, a consequence of the Vietnam War and the subsequent upheaval of relocating to a new country. Driven by a desire to improve his life beyond the struggles she endured, Vuong first attended Manchester Community College before transferring to Pace University to study international marketing. However, he quickly became disillusioned with business school, describing the experience as “learning to lie,” as he shared with The Guardian.

Ultimately, Vuong left business school to pursue 19th-century American literature at Brooklyn College. During the evenings, he found solace in writing poetry, stating, “You get the last word of the day. The editor in your head—the nagging, insecure, worrisome social editor—starts to retire. When that editor falls asleep, I get to do what I want. The cat’s out to play.” His dedication to his craft eventually led him to earn an MFA in poetry from New York University.

Night Sky With Exit Wounds

Vuong’s late-night writing sessions culminated in the 2016 poetry anthology Night Sky With Exit Wounds, published by Copper Canyon Press after winning an open submission contest. The collection garnered immediate acclaim, with The New York Times praising its “powerful emotional undertow” and Vuong’s “sincerity and candor” as he navigated themes of identity, immigration, and his experiences as a gay man. The review highlighted the work’s “photographic clarity and a sense of the evanescence of all earthly things.”

The subjects of his poems span significant moments in history, from the fall of Saigon in “Aubade with Burning City” to the tragic murder of a gay couple in Dallas in “Seventh Circle of Earth.” Among the collection’s most poignant lines is from “Someday I’ll Love Ocean Vuong,” which reflects on the beauty of self-acceptance and the nature of loneliness: “The most beautiful part of your body / is where it’s headed. & remember, / loneliness is still time spent with the world.” Another striking passage from “A Little Closer to the Edge” reads, “Let every river envy / our mouths. Let every kiss hit the body / like a season.”

Vuong’s debut collection received numerous accolades, including the T.S. Eliot Prize, Whiting Award, Thom Gunn Award, and the Felix Dennis Prize for Best First Collection from the Forward Arts Foundation. Despite his literary success, Vuong faced financial hardships early in his career, recalling that he worked for $8 an hour at Panera Bread before selling his first novel.

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous: A Journey of Heartbreak and Recognition

In 2019, poet Ocean Vuong faced a tumultuous year marked by both personal tragedy and professional triumph. Just before the release of his debut novel, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, which came out in June, he received devastating news: his mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer. This novel builds upon an earlier essay published in The New Yorker, which serves as a letter from Vuong, a son, to his illiterate mother. Initially conceived as a writing experiment, the book unfolds as a semi-autobiographical narrative through the character of Little Dog, reflecting Vuong’s own upbringing. Released on June 4, 2019, the novel quickly gained acclaim, becoming a New York Times bestseller and receiving multiple award nominations, including longlists for the National Book Award, the Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence, and the PEN/Hemingway Award for Debut Novel. It ultimately won the American Book Award and the Mark Twain American Voice in Literature Award.

A few months later, Vuong was honored with a prestigious MacArthur Foundation “Genius” grant, further solidifying his literary stature. Tragically, this recognition came on the heels of his mother’s passing due to breast cancer later that same year.

In December 2020, A24 announced plans for a big-screen adaptation of On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, adding another layer to the book’s burgeoning legacy.

Exploring Queer Love and Identity

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous intricately examines themes of sexuality and identity, particularly through Little Dog’s romantic experiences with another boy in a small town beset by prejudice and substance abuse. The narrative, drawn from Vuong’s own experiences growing up in Hartford, Connecticut, poignantly captures the challenges of being gay within a family and community that has often marginalized such identities.

Despite societal challenges, Vuong recounts a deeply affirming moment when he came out to his mother. “When I told her, she said, ‘Well, you’re still you,’ and she said, ‘You’re all I have,’” he reflected. “It was really important for me, because it was not like the stereotypical response that you often hear about. It was just so accepting.” His candid storytelling resonates powerfully with many individuals of color, particularly those of Asian descent, who navigate similar journeys.

“I don’t sit down at the desk saying, well, I’m an LGBTQ writer,” Vuong noted in an interview with TMRW magazine. “I just assume that what I write will come out of that filter.”

The Impact of Loss

Vuong’s relationship with his mother, Rose, profoundly shaped his creative voice. He shared a touching memory from his first poetry reading, where, amidst applause, she expressed disbelief at seeing “so many old white people clapping for my son.” This bittersweet moment became even more poignant when he reflected on her work at a nail salon, where she served customers with grace.

Her passing left Vuong grappling with grief and purpose. “When I lost my mother, I thought, there’s no point,” he told NPR. Yet this loss also catalyzed a revelation about his writing. “I realized that I was writing with various insecurities or fears…only when their mother passes away do they realize, oh, wait a minute. There’s another level of freedom that I don’t know.” This new perspective prompted him to return to writing with renewed vigor. “You lose your mother, and you lose your North Star, at least for me. And I became such a child… How do I play? Where do I locate pleasure?” Ultimately, poetry became his refuge.

Time is a Mother: A New Creative Chapter

Vuong’s transformative journey culminated in his second poetry collection, Time is a Mother, released on April 5, 2022. In this collection, he delves into the complex emotions surrounding his mother’s death, capturing how her absence reshaped his worldview. In the poem “Beautiful Short Loser,” he muses on memory and loss, illustrating the deep connections between art and emotion.

Reflecting on the writing process, Vuong remarked, “I see all of my humor, you know, my mischievousness, my tongue-in-cheek expression, even amidst the great loss. I said, there he is. He’s finally here.”

Professional Endeavors and Personal Life

In addition to his literary pursuits, Vuong serves as an associate professor in the MFA program for poets and writers at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, where he continues to inspire the next generation of writers. He resides in Northampton, Massachusetts, where he balances his teaching and creative endeavors while honoring the profound legacy of his mother through his work.