Title: In the Year of the Rabbit: A Novel
Author: Terence Harkin
Publisher: Silkworm Books, 2021
The Vietnam War is a phrase that, whenever it is recalled, usually bears a range of different emotions, particularly for those who were directly or indirectly involved in the conflict. Nevertheless, regardless of their background or where they come from, either on the side of the victors or the losers, it lies deep in their hearts that the war was catastrophic and caused massive losses. It has been claimed that more than fifty thousand Americans and over three million Vietnamese lost their lives in the war. Many are still missing too. The healing of the trauma and wounds, profoundly hidden in the soul of those who are involved in the war, becomes challenging when they are forever haunted by their terrifying memories. Would the best way to heal the wounds in their soul and to end the sad memories be to write down and tell their own stories or otherwise to narrate what they saw during the war? Perhaps this way may be the best – a cathartic exorcism. Indeed, even though the war ended nearly half a century ago, it remains a topic being transcribed into a body of literature which continues to grow filled with the memories of those whose survived the war.
Lovers of literary books on the Vietnam War cannot nignore well-known novels written by both Vietnamese and American writers. These novels include ‘The Lionheads’ by Josiah Bunting (1972); ‘Dog Soldiers‘ by Robert Stone (1974); ‘Going After Cacciato‘ by Tim O’Brien (1978); ‘Fields of Fire‘ by James Webb (1978); ‘The Short-Timers’ by Gustav Hasford (1979); ‘Paco’s Story‘ by Larry Heinemann (1986); ‘The Things They Carried‘ by Tim O’Brien (1990); ‘The Sorrow of War: A Novel of North Vietnam‘ by Bao Ninh (1993); ‘A Novel Without a Name‘ by Duong Thu Huong (1995); ‘Matterhorn: A Novel of the Vietnam War’ by Karl Marlantes (2009); ‘The Lotus Eaters‘ by Tatjana Solis (2010); ‘The Sympathizer’ by Viet Thanh Nguyen (2016); ‘The 13th Valley’ by John M. Del Vecchio (2017); ‘The Mountain Sings’ by Nguyen Phan Que Mai (2021).
In addition to this long list of fictional books, there is also an increasing body of non-fiction writing and film on the topic. The existing body of literature in this field does not prevent Terence A. Harkin in his novel, In the Year of the Rabbit, from making an important addition. So what makes The Rabbit, a story of healing and of redemption?
Harkin, a former member of the “Rat Pack” staff, the USAF photo unit operating out of Ubon, Thailand, during the Vietnam War, wrote The Rabbit from his notes taken during his war-time missions, and a continuation of his life in Buddhist monasteries in Thailand and Laos, from interviews with Air America crewmen, CIA agents, and Lao soldiers, from visits to old Air Force haunts at Ubon, Udorn, NKP and along the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Vietnam. It is worthwhile noting that The Rabbit is the continuation of Harkin’s debut novel, The Big Buddha Bicycle Race, which tells the story of Brendan Leary, a US Air Force photographer who flies on missions over North Vietnam and along the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos. The Race earned Harkin the Silver Medal in Literary Fiction from the Military Writers Society of the Americas in 2020.
As The Rabbit goes on, following the devastation of an ambush of a race that was supposed to be a fun event concocted by cameraman Brendan Leary, he now lives with the deaths of his friends as well as of his star-crossed lover, Tukada. Leary finds himself hospitalized and in shock. Following his release from hospital, he returns to combat, flying night operations over the mountains of Laos. Harkin vividly creates the chaotic internal world of someone who has been to war and is racked by the consequent sadness, grief, and confusion. When his helicopter is shot down and crashes in the jungle, Leary survives again along with Sgt. Harley Baker, the guitar-playing door gunner that he both loves and hates. Baker then later becomes Leary’s companion in hiking out of the jungle. Together, the two men endure the long hike through the Laotian jungle during which they further encounter the mind-numbing depravity of war. After being discharged from the Air Force, Leary remains in Thailand. He drifts into a Buddhist monastery and ultimately undertakes a journey toward redemption. At the monastery, Leary is ordinated to become a Buddhist monk, and from there he embarks on a pilgrimage through the wastelands of Laos.
The most compelling part of The Rabbit is perhaps the exploration of American and Buddhist philosophy. This happens through a mix of narrative and dream sequences experienced by Leary as he explores monasteries, and his memories of his time in the Air Force, haunted by the restlessness and unhappiness of the ghosts of his doomed crewmates.
The Rabbit is not only the story, it also offers an interesting view of the war history. Harkin sees that it comes out of Thailand, rather than out of Vietnam as most books perceive it. This new perspective might trigger many others to explore it in the years to come.
The Rabbit is beautifully written and well worth reading. Indeed, for those who have already read the book (2021), it is not just one of the latest contributions to the existing literary works, but it is one deserving a “must reading” (Frank A. Titus), “highly recommended” (Dean Barrett), and “a thoroughly worthwhile read” (Meg Bywater) to touch on “A wonderful experience of meaningful life in a difficult time and place” (Kev Richardson). And, for those who are struggling to find the way to a peace of mind following any traumatic circumstances, The Rabbit shows the power of meditation and offers an inspiring practice of life, too.
Reviewed by Hai Hong Nguyen
Research Fellow, Centre for Policy Futures, the University of Queensland