|Stumbling with words| Recommendation N.13
- Thao Pham
- Aug 16
- 3 min read
I haven’t written this series in three years. Three years! Life has been so full that writing slipped away. I can’t promise I’ll return often, but here’s a small collection of what has stayed with me over these years.
Things I Read
Lately, I’ve been drawn to Vietnamese history books. What stands out most is how rich our historical tradition is — how deeply literature and learning shaped us under feudal systems, where knowledge was treasured. The more I read, the more grounded I feel in my country’s story, and the more I love both its beauty and its struggles.
Last week, I stumbled on Lô Giang Tiểu Sử. Reading it was a joy, and it inspired me to commit to writing at least once a year, simply as a reflection. That feels enough. And gosh, the book’s decoration — stunning.
I also finally finished When Heaven and Earth Changed Places. I bought it last year, but only this summer did I find the space to immerse myself. It’s not just a memoir; it feels like a quiet, painful feminist manifesto spoken by someone who never set out to be political.
Le Ly follows the rules — from parents, from revolutionaries, from lovers — yet obedience brings only exhaustion and mistrust. Her life reveals how women are too often treated as tools, bound by ideologies, survival, and circumstance. Abuse isn’t an exception; it becomes part of the arrangement. War magnifies it. And yet, through fleeting independence, she claims small revolutions of her own.
Strength here isn’t always resistance. Sometimes it’s simply the decision to endure.
Things I Listened To
A podcast that stuck with me: Deep Dive on how the gut influences the brain.
Eat more plants (seeds, fruits, vegetables, nuts)
Two portions of fish per week
Drink water
Detox is a myth
Organic < local
Vitamin D in winter
The best diet is the one that truly suits you
And, as always, I remain a devoted listener of Hidden Brain.
Things I Watched
I’ve developed a quiet obsession with East Asian cinema. Over the past year I’ve watched so many Korean and Taiwanese films, but the surprise has been rediscovering Vietnamese cinema — especially Chánh Phương’s works. Thiên Mệnh Anh Hùng is one I proudly recommend to friends abroad. The action is world-class, and Ngô Thanh Vân is, as always, a legend.
I also finally watched High Fidelity (2000) alongside Hulu’s High Fidelity (2020). In my twenties, I worked hard to prove I was the coolest misfit in the room; now, I’m more content with being a happy, silly human. Yet the film still peels back layers of my younger self — the smugness, the rock snobbery, the fragile ego hiding behind niche bands.
Rewatching with Zoë Kravitz in the lead hit differently. Her version feels sharper, more resonant, maybe because I saw myself in it. The gender flip reminded me of Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides Now: same ache, different timbre. It confirmed for me that emotional cowardice, no matter the gender, is never cool.
And on the theme of education, I returned to Totto-chan: The Little Girl at the Window. As a child, I skimmed through it, but watching the film now, I saw it as a profound meditation on education, joy, imperfection, and loss — with a clear antiwar message. The headmaster of Tomoe Gakuen was practicing critical pedagogy back in the 1940s, simply by listening patiently, asking thoughtful questions, and treating children with dignity.
One line from the film lingers:“Having eyes, but not seeing beauty; having ears, but not hearing music; having minds, but not perceiving truth; having hearts that are never moved and therefore never set on fire. These are the things to fear.”
Things That Stayed With Me
My trips to Japan reshaped the way I think about life:
You don’t need to produce quickly; quality is what makes work endure. Tourists flock to Japanese products not because they’re mass-produced, but because they’re crafted with unmatched care — the sharpest nail clippers, the most precise knives, skincare made with intention. Even the most mundane items feel exquisite.
There’s no fixed age for retirement. Seeing elders still active gave me mixed emotions — in some societies, it reflects a lack of support, but in Japan it often felt like a continuation of dignity and purpose, a way of carrying meaning into later life.
Comments