Haven of Love and Truth

Books can help readers solve their need to learn and be an opportunity for intellectual relaxation. I like reading Tr¿n Van Chi because he gives me the necessary relaxation when living amid a life racing against time in a foreign country. Readers can like Tr¿n Van Chi, on the other hand, very cute ramblings like Queen Nam Phuong's poem when he mentions: "Each person has a homeland in their heart." He strayed into folk songs and activities or the history of this or that region. Those sweet folk songs, hidden in our hearts for many years, are now heard again at the right place and time... He gives us the ecstasy of saying "our Vi¿t people" "ngu¿i Vi¿t mình" this and that. The sound of "our Vi¿t people" is lovely and close.

The part where he discussed the uses of the hammock was signi¿ cant. It is complete yet profound and takes us into the past, into the peaceful and quiet of more than half a century ago. Readers can let their souls drift into the time of the swinging hammock (remember the poet Bàng Bá Lân). There is a sweet lullaby with the voices of my grandmother, mother, and sister.

The author's exclamations, too, sometimes make us sad. When discussing family dinners, he said: "In the United States, some families do not value family meals. What a pity!".

The author's terms, "What a pity," fascinate me. It's a gentle reprimand, a cry that doesn't need many words or the weight of a harsh rebuke. It signi¿ es our shared sense of belonging, our mutual connection to the homeland, and the beautiful, time-honored customs our ancestors crafted over centuries. It's a lament for a lost past, for the cultural splendor of our people that has evolved and circumstances, yet we've managed to hold onto it.

Some of the author's most poignant words stem from his keen observations of the habits of the Vietnamese people: the pervasive tardiness at popular festival activities. When he recounted the late person's umbrella introduction: don't see, don't care, don't listen, don't be shy, it's clear that the author was not just embarrassed by his friend's excessive delay, but also deeply disappointed in the community's acceptance of such behavior. He felt the weight of the situation, as a member of the community.

The book consists of three parts consistent with the book series by Mr. Tr¿n Tr¿ng Kim, Nguy¿n Van Ng¿c, пng Ðình Phúc and п Th¿n. The central theme is the 'gentle and necessary morality' that teaches people to live ethically with the people around them and their homeland. This concept, which we now call morality, is the essential but minimum requirement to be a good person in society and the country. Unfortunately, domestic and foreign people have recently been unable to immerse themselves in this gentle and necessary morality. In some places, it is replaced by a morality that serves temporary goals, not the long-term well-being of the people and the country of Vi¿t Nam.

Reading the book is not just a passive act but an opportunity to actively re¿ect on the loss of that precious social morality that should not have existed. It prompts us to consider the changes in our society and our role in preserving our cultural heritage.

While philosopher Bergson's book on two open-closed ethics holds signi¿cant intellectual value, Professor Tr¿n Van Chi's unique perspective on the value of feelings for the homeland and morality for society is equally essential.



Nguy¿n Van Sâm

(Rusk, days to avoid Hurricane Rita, May 10)