Things We Lost to the Water

Strongly dedicated to his family and kind at heart, Tuấn is Công and Hương’s older son. He left Vietnam after he was old enough to have become somewhat enculturated by Vietnamese life and to have memories of Vietnam, the war, his father, and the journey to New Orleans. This is both a blessing and a curse, as these experiences shaped most of his formative years and influenced his adulthood as well.

Tuấn is proud of his Vietnamese heritage, but it isolates him at school, where he’s bullied for his culture, his accent, and his lack of English. He’s isolated from the Versailles community because of his open-minded kindness and curiosity—and because of his mother’s disinterest in religion. Hương’s frustration at his detention and fights at school alienate him from her as well, so Tuấn goes through adolescence under the impression that he must look out for himself. Fighting assimilation, Tuấn is attracted to the Southern Boyz gang for their Việt pride and “found family” impression; he hopes that associating with them will provide an outlet to express his own Vietnamese identity. Tuấn is attracted to Thảo for similar reasons, but though he seeks companionship from her, she doesn’t reciprocate; on the contrary, associating with her makes Tuấn mean.

Bình’s estrangement from Hương, Thảo’s departure from Tuấn's life, and his own self-reflection help him grow into a mature adult. He can empathize with Hương’s decision to lie about Công—and learns when to pry and when to let things go. Because of his cordial relationship with both Hương and Bình, he’s forced to mediate between them, a role he both accepts and resents. Because Công is physically absent and Vinh’s presence in their lives is sidelined, Tuấn must adopt the mantle of both brother and, later, quasi-father figure to Bình: He takes care of Bình as a child, tells him about Công from a child’s perspective, and is the only direct family member Bình comes out to. However, when Tuấn tries to connect Bình with Công directly through Công’s medallion, Bình rejects him.

Conversely, though Tuấn initially rejects his familial roles as a youth, he comes to accept them as an adult. During the trip to Vietnam for Công’s funeral, though he has faint memories of Vietnam, which have faded over time, Tuấn is dependent on Vinh to help him navigate Saigon, in this way acting more like a son to Vinh than he does to Công at the funeral—to him, his biological father has become a stranger. Tuấn is devoted to his mother and brother—reluctant to let Bình leave for France or abandon Hương during Hurricane Katrina. Although Bình is the son most often compared to Công, Tuấn bears more than a passing resemblance to his father, evident in personality if not in appearance.

A third-culture kid, Bình is Hương and Công’s younger son; born in a Vietnamese refugee camp, he has no memory of either his father or Vietnam and spends most of his formative years struggling between his lack of connectedness with his Vietnamese heritage and his American enculturation. His gay identity and bookish nature add other layers of separation between him and his family, leading to their eventual estrangement.

Unlike Tuấn, Bình has no memory of Công (whom he admits to once thinking was a tape recorder), leading him to search for other father figures to substitute for Công, including a Catholic priest, Vinh, and Professor Schreiber. However, his family’s constantly comparing him and Công sets a model impossible to emulate and a standard impossible to meet. As Bình grows to resent all the ways he falls short of this near-mythical man, he in turn is disappointed when his father figure substitutes fall short of his own expectations.

Because of the pressure and estrangement of his Vietnamese family, Bình finds greater solace in his “found family,” including Addy, Howie, and Michel. Although the length of his relationships with each varies, they allow him to be himself (mostly) and express himself in all the ways Tuấn wanted to but couldn’t. In this way, the brothers contrast: Even though Tuấn better fits the mold of the Vietnamese child Hương wants, he does so in isolation and misguided pride; while Bình rejects or is rejected from the mold Hương creates for him, he finds the support to create his own identity. Ironically, despite his appearance and love for books (which strongly resemble Công), Bình’s ability to leave home and start over with nothing is more reminiscent of Hương, a fact that all of them overlook.

A Catholic immigrant from Vietnam who arrived in New Orleans by way of Malaysia, Alaska, Oregon, and Texas, Vinh eventually becomes Hương’s partner and (rejected) surrogate father to Tuấn and Bình. Vinh works several odd jobs but spends much of his time unemployed, moving into Hương’s apartment after losing his job as a car salesman and never leaving. Tuấn and Bình resent Vinh’s presence in their lives for much of their adolescence and never truly consider him even father-adjacent, though Bình briefly hopes Vinh could be his biological father in an attempt to humanize Công. Vinh (unsuccessfully) tries to use his experience as a South Vietnamese Army soldier to advise Tuấn to steer clear of the Southern Boyz. Vinh mostly serves as Hương’s confidant, and though he has good intentions, he often fumbles in his attempts to be caring, such as the botched Southern Decadence date.

Vinh mainly serves as Công’s counterpart, and Vinh both succeeds at and resents this role. While Công is reserved, bookish, and academically/professionally successful, Vinh is friendly and useless and has difficulty holding down a job. He knows where to find longyan orchards and, unlike Công (who prefers to stay at home), doesn’t mind traveling. Vinh often uses American terms of endearment, such as “honey” and “darling,” but isn’t multilingual like Công; Vinh values a healthy work/life balance over working hard to make ends meet, leading Hương to call him immature and believe that he “could never be a father” (178).

However, Vinh’s largest contrast to Công is his presence. While Công becomes idolized and deified, Vinh is physically present in Hương, Tuấn, and Bình’s lives, and he does his best to care for them in all the ways they allow him to—making the boys after-school snacks, warning Tuấn about gangs, and being a role model (of sort) for Bình, who has no other reference for a father figure. In addition, Vinh serves as friend, confidant, and supporter for Hương, especially in times of crisis. However, he’s never fully accepted into any of these roles because of Công’s ghostly presence: Hương never entirely lets him go and constantly uses him as a metric for her sons’ development, pressuring them with his godly disapproval of their actions. Because of this, despite all of Vinh’s efforts, he’ll always be considered second-best in their family.

A Black immigrant from Haiti, Addy is Bình’s best friend from elementary school to the beginning of high school. Like their parents, Addy and Bình bond over being people of color and their children-of-immigrants heritage. Raised Catholic, Addy and her family briefly attempt to introduce Bình to elements of their religion, at his request. However, Addy rejects Bình when he comes out to her as gay right before their freshman year of high school; their friendship never recovers. As an adult, Addy eventually befriends Tuấn; they’ve dated for two years by the time Hurricane Katrina hits in the final chapter. Unlike Thảo, Addy appreciates Tuấn’s dedication to his family.

Addy serves several purposes in the story. Initially, she represents Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) solidarity in that her and Bình’s friendship starts by defending each other from their white classmates and commiserating over the perceived oddities of white American citizens. They can empathize with each other’s roles as children of immigrants and support each other in rough patches, such as Vinh moving in, Thảo dating Tuấn, and finding community through church. This contrasts with Tuấn’s experience in that he grew up bullied, isolated, and friendless until the Southern Boyz. However, Addy also represents the divisiveness that can preclude intersectionality: Despite their friendship and many points of commonality, Addy rejects Bình for being gay, effectively ending their relationship. Another important function that Addy serves is that she’s essentially the boys’ first “found family” member, initially as Bình’s closest friend and confidante and later as Tuấn’s girlfriend.