"On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous" By Ocean Vuong | Book Review

*This review contains spoilers*

If any of you know anything about Ocean Vuong, he is primarily a poet who won the MacArthur grant for this novel. So likely, it will come as no surprise when I tell you "On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous" by Ocean Vuong is a stunning and poetic novel that cuts straight to the core of the identity of a Vietnamese gay man.

His poetic roots really shined in this fantastic novel, for every sentence felt like it could not have been worded more perfectly. Written in the form of a letter from a son to his mother, the book is intrinsically contentious with itself from the get-go. The letter is written in English which his mother cannot speak.

It sets up one of the most fantastic things about the style and the content of this book which is the stark examination of language: how it bridges gaps, builds walls, transcends words, and restricts us. 

The novel tracks a young boy's life, from his earliest memories with his mother through his teenage years and adulthood, where he uncovers his identity, peels away layers of love and the world as it looks to someone who isn't accepted by it.

Vuong weaves stories together and examines many of the truths about the character's existence with such stark language that is nearly impossible not to get emotional while reading.

Themes throughout include sexual revelations, perceiving violence as love and how that comes to be, purpose in the world, drug use, and socioeconomic status.

Primarily, we look at three relationships: the main character (who is largely called "Little Dog") and his mother, Little Dog and Trevor, and Little Dog and himself.

With his mother, this is how we get to know him. We learn of his upbringing, how hard he watched her work for such little money, that they lived in Hartford, Connecticut and didn't have much. His mother beat him regularly, however even at a young age he seemed to look past that and see it stemming from her having been married to someone who abused her. Here, there is a tangle of love, dedication, caretaking, and role reversal. If your mother comes home so exhausted from work every day that she can barely sit up, is she taking care of you or are you taking care of her?

Questions like these propel through the novel and help make it feel as if we the readers are figuring out life with Little Dog.

Arguably the most time is spent on Little Dog's relationship with Trevor, and that felt fitting. With precise language and unflinching metaphor, Vuong shows perfectly the entire course of their relationship and how it encompasses the trickiness of exploring sexuality that isn't accepted. How that can translate to drugs, to not understanding what exactly love is, and not knowing what is in a healthy relationship.

These parts of the book were so authentic I imagine it was painstaking to write, and many of the most emotional parts came here. To learn of Trevor's death was absolutely a tear-jerker and I thought it helped characterize so much of Little Dog.

Finally, the relationship that we see develop the most, Little Dog's relationship with himself. It's with expert prose that this is woven in so indirectly, that we only see these small shifts through existential questions and changes in his actions.

These spurred some of my favorite quotes and some of the most real moments of the book. One of those is when he writes to his mother: "I got what I wanted—a boy swimming toward me. Except I was no shore, Ma. I was driftwood trying to remember what I had broken from to get here."

The entire novel is a poetic masterpiece that ponders love and life and identity, and it is a must-read if you haven't already.


Characters: 100%
Plot: 95%
Depth: 100%
Intrigue: 100%
Style: 100%
Overall: A+