| Description: |
|
Product Description
In a Cambodian proverb, "when broken glass floats" is the time when evil triumphs over good. That time began for the Him family in 1975, when the Khmer Rouge took power in Cambodia and they began their trek through the hell of the "killing fields". In a heart-wrenching memoir, Chanrithy Him vividly tells of her childhood, growing up in a Cambodia where rudimentary labour camps are the norm and technology, such as cars and electricity, no longer exitst. As she struggles to understand the suffering and violence around her, she shows proof of unbounded courage and great hope. Death becomes a companion at the camps, along with illness. Yet through the terror, Him's family remains loyal to one another despite the Khmer Rouge's demand of loyalty only to itself. Moments of inexpressible sacrifice and love lead them to bring what little food they have to the others, even at the risk of their own lives. In 1979, "broken glass" finally sinks. From a family of 12, only five of the Him children survive. They are desperate to escape the Khmer Rouge but sad to leave what they see as the empty shell of Cambodia. From refugee camps in Thailand and the Philippines, sponsored by an uncle in Oregon, they begin new lives in America.
Amazon.com Review
"Chea, how come good doesn't win over evil?" young Chanrithy Him asks her sister, after the brutal Khmer Rouge have seized power in Cambodia, but before hunger makes them too weak for philosophy. Chea answers only with a proverb: When good and evil are thrown together into the river of life, first the klok or squash (representing good) will sink, and the armbaeg or broken glass (representing evil) will float. But the broken glass, Chea assures her, never floats for long: "When good appears to lose, it is an opportunity for one to be patient, and become like God."
Before this proverb could come true, Chanrithy had to watch her mother, father, and five of her brothers and sisters die, murdered by the Khmer Rouge or fatally weakened by malnutrition, disease, and overwork. Now living in Oregon, where she studies posttraumatic stress disorder among Cambodian survivors, Chanrithy has written a first-person account of the killing fields that's remarkable for both its unflinching honesty and its refusal to despair. In wrenchingly immediate prose, she describes atrocities the rest of the world might prefer to ignore: her sick yet still breathing mother, thrown along with corpses into a well; a pregnant woman beaten to death with a spade, the baby struggling inside her; a sister impossibly swollen with edema, her starving body leaking fluid from the webbing between her toes. The mind retreats from horrors like these--and yet what emerges most strongly from this memoir is the triumph of life. Chanrithy is determined to honor her pledge to the dying Chea, to study medicine so she can help others live. When Broken Glass Floats accomplishes the same goal in a different way. "As a survivor, I want to be worthy of the suffering that I endured," Chanrithy writes; by giving such eloquent voice to her dead, she has proven herself more than worthy of her suffering--and theirs. --Chloe Byrne
|
