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From Indochina to Vietnam: Revolution and War in a Global Perspective
Đỉnh cao đế quốc: Đà Lạt và sự hưng vong của Đông Dương thuộc Pháp
Đà Lạt được tạo dựng vào cuối thế kỷ 19 từ những dự định trái ngược và tranh chấp nhau: nó sẽ là một vườn ươm, một pháo đài chống bệnh tật, một trung tâm của quyền lực thực dân, một căn cứ quân sự, một đỉnh cao để từ đó thống lĩnh Đông Dương.
Các nhà qui hoạch thành phố này tìm cảm hứng ở nhiều nơi: tham khảo rất nhiều đến Petropolis ở Brazil, đến Baguio ở Philippines, đến Pháp và dãy Alps Thụy Sĩ, đến Côte d’Azur và đến những thị trấn đồi núi ở Hòa Lan mà lúc bấy giờ còn gọi là Hòa - Ấn (Netherland Indies). Nói cách khác, Đà Lạt hiện đại và hoàn cầu từ trong tinh chất. Vậy mà nó cũng là tỉnh lẻ: khu nghỉ dưỡng này nổi tiếng vì các phong cách vùng Basque, Breton, Norman và Provençal, chẳng hạn. Cuốn sách này khám phá những nguồn gốc và tiến hóa của Đà Lạt trong kỷ nguyên thuộc địa, khảo sát nhiều căng thẳng và nghịch lý trên đường đi của nó.
Đà Lạt sẽ còn quyến rũ mọi người lâu dài. Dường như nó gieo niềm hoài nhớ cho ngay cả một thế hệ trẻ Việt Nam, những người xem nó như một nơi chốn lãng mạn và thoát ly. Cảm nhận đương đại này, về nhiều mặt, là sự đứt đoạn với cảm nhận thực dân Pháp về Đà Lạt như một sự thay thế cho nước Pháp, một bản sao thu nhỏ của mẫu quốc.
(Trích Lời tác giả nhân dịp ra mắt bản tiếng Việt)
Các nhà qui hoạch thành phố này tìm cảm hứng ở nhiều nơi: tham khảo rất nhiều đến Petropolis ở Brazil, đến Baguio ở Philippines, đến Pháp và dãy Alps Thụy Sĩ, đến Côte d’Azur và đến những thị trấn đồi núi ở Hòa Lan mà lúc bấy giờ còn gọi là Hòa - Ấn (Netherland Indies). Nói cách khác, Đà Lạt hiện đại và hoàn cầu từ trong tinh chất. Vậy mà nó cũng là tỉnh lẻ: khu nghỉ dưỡng này nổi tiếng vì các phong cách vùng Basque, Breton, Norman và Provençal, chẳng hạn. Cuốn sách này khám phá những nguồn gốc và tiến hóa của Đà Lạt trong kỷ nguyên thuộc địa, khảo sát nhiều căng thẳng và nghịch lý trên đường đi của nó.
Đà Lạt sẽ còn quyến rũ mọi người lâu dài. Dường như nó gieo niềm hoài nhớ cho ngay cả một thế hệ trẻ Việt Nam, những người xem nó như một nơi chốn lãng mạn và thoát ly. Cảm nhận đương đại này, về nhiều mặt, là sự đứt đoạn với cảm nhận thực dân Pháp về Đà Lạt như một sự thay thế cho nước Pháp, một bản sao thu nhỏ của mẫu quốc.
(Trích Lời tác giả nhân dịp ra mắt bản tiếng Việt)
- GenresHistoryNonfiction
629 pages, Paperback
First published March 9, 2011
18 people are currently reading
202 people want to read
About the author
Eric T. Jennings
11 books6 followersEric Jennings’ areas of interest include 19th and 20th century France, French colonialism, decolonization, and the francophone world.
In 2001, he published Vichy in the Tropics (Stanford University Press, translated into French with Grasset in 2004 under the title Vichy sous les tropiques), a book derived from his Berkeley thesis that explored the ultra-conservative and authoritarian Vichy regime’s colonial politics in the French Caribbean, Indochina, and Madagascar. Curing the Colonizers (Duke University Press, 2006, translated into French as A la Cure les Coloniaux! PUR, 2011) was situated at the crossroads of the histories of colonialism, medicine, culture, leisure, and tourism. His Dalat and the Making and Undoing of French Indochina (University of California Press, 2011, translated into French with Payot as La ville de l’éternel printemps, 2013) is a multi-angled study of the major French colonial hill station in Southeast Asia. Its focus lies on place, power, and colonial fault lines. His book on French Equatorial Africa and Cameroon under Free French rule, entitled La France libre fut africaine, appeared with Perrin in 2014, and is being translated into English with Cambridge University Press. It considers the centrality of sub-Saharan Africa for the early Fighting French movement, paying special attention to issues of legitimacy and coercion. His other publications include an edited volume with Jacques Cantier, L’Empire colonial sous Vichy (Odile Jacob, 2004), as well as many articles and chapters straddling the histories of France, Southeast Asia, the Indian Ocean, Africa, and the Caribbean.
Jennings has received a John Simon Guggenheim fellowship (2014), SSHRC and CIHR grants, the Alf Heggoy and Jean-François Coste book prizes as well as the Palmes académiques.
In 2001, he published Vichy in the Tropics (Stanford University Press, translated into French with Grasset in 2004 under the title Vichy sous les tropiques), a book derived from his Berkeley thesis that explored the ultra-conservative and authoritarian Vichy regime’s colonial politics in the French Caribbean, Indochina, and Madagascar. Curing the Colonizers (Duke University Press, 2006, translated into French as A la Cure les Coloniaux! PUR, 2011) was situated at the crossroads of the histories of colonialism, medicine, culture, leisure, and tourism. His Dalat and the Making and Undoing of French Indochina (University of California Press, 2011, translated into French with Payot as La ville de l’éternel printemps, 2013) is a multi-angled study of the major French colonial hill station in Southeast Asia. Its focus lies on place, power, and colonial fault lines. His book on French Equatorial Africa and Cameroon under Free French rule, entitled La France libre fut africaine, appeared with Perrin in 2014, and is being translated into English with Cambridge University Press. It considers the centrality of sub-Saharan Africa for the early Fighting French movement, paying special attention to issues of legitimacy and coercion. His other publications include an edited volume with Jacques Cantier, L’Empire colonial sous Vichy (Odile Jacob, 2004), as well as many articles and chapters straddling the histories of France, Southeast Asia, the Indian Ocean, Africa, and the Caribbean.
Jennings has received a John Simon Guggenheim fellowship (2014), SSHRC and CIHR grants, the Alf Heggoy and Jean-François Coste book prizes as well as the Palmes académiques.
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
June 20, 2016
Đọc cuốn này vui buồn lẫn lộn.
Vui vì có một cuốn sách nghiêm túc, công phu về lịch sử Đà Lạt mà đọc, cung cấp nhiều tư liệu và hiểu biết về sự hình thành và phát triển của Đà Lạt. Buồn, vì hễ có cuốn sách nào công phu, nghiêm túc về Việt Nam, y như rằng là do một ông Tây viêt :)
Chuyện nghiêm túc, công phu ắt cũng là hẳn nhiên, vì người viết là giáo sư sử học; mà giáo sư sử học (đại học Tây) cái chuẩn ắt phải như thế, không phải bàn nhiều. Đôi lúc cũng hơi sốt ruột với tác giả, vì ông lề mề rườm rà quá cơ. Chẳng hạn mấy chương đầu về việc chọn Đà Lạt làm trạm nghỉ dưỡng vùng cao của Pháp ở Đông Dương có thể viết gọn hơn.
Vĩ thanh: Giá tác giả thêm một bài vĩ thanh về việc từ 75 đến giờ Đà Lạt bị phá như thế nào thì hay :)
Vui vì có một cuốn sách nghiêm túc, công phu về lịch sử Đà Lạt mà đọc, cung cấp nhiều tư liệu và hiểu biết về sự hình thành và phát triển của Đà Lạt. Buồn, vì hễ có cuốn sách nào công phu, nghiêm túc về Việt Nam, y như rằng là do một ông Tây viêt :)
Chuyện nghiêm túc, công phu ắt cũng là hẳn nhiên, vì người viết là giáo sư sử học; mà giáo sư sử học (đại học Tây) cái chuẩn ắt phải như thế, không phải bàn nhiều. Đôi lúc cũng hơi sốt ruột với tác giả, vì ông lề mề rườm rà quá cơ. Chẳng hạn mấy chương đầu về việc chọn Đà Lạt làm trạm nghỉ dưỡng vùng cao của Pháp ở Đông Dương có thể viết gọn hơn.
Vĩ thanh: Giá tác giả thêm một bài vĩ thanh về việc từ 75 đến giờ Đà Lạt bị phá như thế nào thì hay :)
September 6, 2015
Đây chắc chắn là tác phẩm sử học viết về Đà Lạt quan trọng nhất, và có thể là tác phẩm phi hư cấu hay nhất mà tôi đọc trong năm nay.
Review và lời khen ngợi cho cuốn sách đã có quá nhiều. Chỉ xin bày tỏ một chút sự khâm phục của tôi dành cho tác giả, vì ông đã bỏ ra công sức khá nhiều cho một tác phẩm thực sự khoa học và chặt chẽ, với một góc nhìn hết sức mới mẻ và sâu sắc về Đà Lạt nói riêng và lịch sử thực dân ở Đông Dương nói chung.
Review và lời khen ngợi cho cuốn sách đã có quá nhiều. Chỉ xin bày tỏ một chút sự khâm phục của tôi dành cho tác giả, vì ông đã bỏ ra công sức khá nhiều cho một tác phẩm thực sự khoa học và chặt chẽ, với một góc nhìn hết sức mới mẻ và sâu sắc về Đà Lạt nói riêng và lịch sử thực dân ở Đông Dương nói chung.
November 4, 2020
The book is not perfect. Rather, thoroughly researched, exhaustive, unbiased – to be completely frank – it satiated my curiosity and romanticized fascination for colonial Frenchness, for Vietnamese intellects and elites prior to 1975.
Đà Lạt’s appeal doesn’t merely lie in its natural endowments. If anything, beauty was indeed "in the eye of the beholder" at least during the inception of the city. It was exhilarating to glean from the various quotes and Jennings’ assessments that Đà Lạt was rhetorically constructed, framed, and promoted as a wellbeing paradise. Its “history,” as written by the French (as opposed to by the indigenous who had already inhabited it), and functions shifted over time:
First as a health center for the French – an immediate, practical measure to combat diseases, casualties, financial burdens.
It then took on a nostalgic air for the homesick French as a safe haven and an (arguable) reminder of the metropole during World War I.
That aura was bolstered by the notion of prestige, of status, of luxury and leisure inaccessible by the Annamese mass. Along with this came the need to turn Đà Lạt into a hub for European domesticity.
As the political condition in Vietnam turned more turbulent and the French rule fragile, the colonizers saw the need to "perpetuate the French presence in Southeast Asia" (p. 178) by opening Đà Lạt up to an influx of Vietnamese as a welcoming mingling space.
I’m quite fussy about citations when it comes to nonfiction, and this book does a good job at using primary sources from contemporaries. Jennings consults various sources yet manages to retain personal and impartial analyses without glorifying any of the plethora of parties with conflicting agendas during the chaotic period.
I got confused at times about the chronology as the book is organized into themes, but overall Jennings quite successfully weaves disjointed sources, topics, and events together to create a seamless flow of arguments and overarching themes. I liked that every chapter is broken down into smaller sections, each given a subtitle and a conclusion that capture the nitty-gritty.
--
Other personal babbles:
1. I liked that Jennings dedicates comprehensive analyses to the triangular dynamics between indigenous highlanders and French colonizers, between French and ethnic Vietnamese elites, and between ethnic Vietnamese and indigenous highlanders.
2. Jennings touches on race and gender topics here and there. The unfair exploitation of the indigenous highlander labor was heartbreaking to read. The sections about Victor Adrien Debay and his crimes to achieve his goals read redundant to me. I got that the author is conveying the impact of the colonizers’ (in this case, Debay’s) imperious mentality and violent, forceful treatment towards the indigenous and their resources, and that he is contrasting Debay’s discovery of Bà Nà with Alexandre Yersin’s more lenient approach to finding out Lang-Bian, which probably heightens Đà Lạt’s fancifulness. But too much of Debay, it veers off the topic.
3. Paul Doumer and Albert Sarraut appeared to be quite reasonable imperialists / policy makers (I’m sure political agendas played a part). And Vietnamese mayors employed by the French were fair and vocal in criticizing the displacement of indigenous inhabitants and in preserving local values and traditions.
4. I skimmed through the two chapters about the 1940-45 period. This probably didn’t have anything to do with the author’s writing, but rather, my lackluster interest in the subject matters.
5. I was curious about that “Thé des Plateaux Moïs” photo in the book and came across this little interesting article about plateau tea on pages 48-49, Tìm Cây Trà Rừng (Trịnh Chu, 2016; from Văn Hóa Phật Giáo Magazine, 1 July 2016 issue).
6. I sometimes wonder whether materials written in languages other than the subject matter’s native language should follow the latter’s conventions for proper names. I couldn’t get my hands on the Vietnamese translation, so it was difficult to correlate the names in the book to the Vietnamese proper names. For instance, what/where is "Daban" or "Dan-Him"???
There are inconsistencies, one-syllable names sandwiched between multiple-syllable ones. Examples:
a.
b.

The proper name variations that I have come across – not just in this book, but any books not written by native Vietnamese – are:
- As they appear in Vietnamese: Phan Thiet, Phan Rang, Quy Nhon. Sometimes even with tone marks, like Sông Pha.
- As one word with multiple syllables: Donnaï (Đồng Nai), Darlac (Đắk Lắk), Banmethuot, Baria, Tayninh.
- With hyphens: Quin-Hon (inconsistent with the “Quy Nhon” mentioned above), Bien-Hoa, Nghe-An.
(The same thing happens with personal names, such as Empress Nam Phuong and Emperor Bao Dai on one page vs. Empress Nam-Phuong and Nguyen-Huu-Hao on another.)
I guess I can’t complain, however, because I’m not knowledgeable enough about the etymology of those names. And even some of them with ethnic minority origins have yet to be standardized in Vietnamese (quốc ngữ hóa). Like Kontum vs. Đắk Lắk vs. Buôn Ma Thuột. I’d love to receive any recommendations on books/resources about the history of Vietnamese proper names! :)
* Notes:
Djiring = Di Linh
Darlac = Đắk Lắk
Darnom = Đắk Nông
Đà Lạt’s appeal doesn’t merely lie in its natural endowments. If anything, beauty was indeed "in the eye of the beholder" at least during the inception of the city. It was exhilarating to glean from the various quotes and Jennings’ assessments that Đà Lạt was rhetorically constructed, framed, and promoted as a wellbeing paradise. Its “history,” as written by the French (as opposed to by the indigenous who had already inhabited it), and functions shifted over time:
First as a health center for the French – an immediate, practical measure to combat diseases, casualties, financial burdens.
It then took on a nostalgic air for the homesick French as a safe haven and an (arguable) reminder of the metropole during World War I.
That aura was bolstered by the notion of prestige, of status, of luxury and leisure inaccessible by the Annamese mass. Along with this came the need to turn Đà Lạt into a hub for European domesticity.
As the political condition in Vietnam turned more turbulent and the French rule fragile, the colonizers saw the need to "perpetuate the French presence in Southeast Asia" (p. 178) by opening Đà Lạt up to an influx of Vietnamese as a welcoming mingling space.
I’m quite fussy about citations when it comes to nonfiction, and this book does a good job at using primary sources from contemporaries. Jennings consults various sources yet manages to retain personal and impartial analyses without glorifying any of the plethora of parties with conflicting agendas during the chaotic period.
I got confused at times about the chronology as the book is organized into themes, but overall Jennings quite successfully weaves disjointed sources, topics, and events together to create a seamless flow of arguments and overarching themes. I liked that every chapter is broken down into smaller sections, each given a subtitle and a conclusion that capture the nitty-gritty.
--
Other personal babbles:
1. I liked that Jennings dedicates comprehensive analyses to the triangular dynamics between indigenous highlanders and French colonizers, between French and ethnic Vietnamese elites, and between ethnic Vietnamese and indigenous highlanders.
2. Jennings touches on race and gender topics here and there. The unfair exploitation of the indigenous highlander labor was heartbreaking to read. The sections about Victor Adrien Debay and his crimes to achieve his goals read redundant to me. I got that the author is conveying the impact of the colonizers’ (in this case, Debay’s) imperious mentality and violent, forceful treatment towards the indigenous and their resources, and that he is contrasting Debay’s discovery of Bà Nà with Alexandre Yersin’s more lenient approach to finding out Lang-Bian, which probably heightens Đà Lạt’s fancifulness. But too much of Debay, it veers off the topic.
3. Paul Doumer and Albert Sarraut appeared to be quite reasonable imperialists / policy makers (I’m sure political agendas played a part). And Vietnamese mayors employed by the French were fair and vocal in criticizing the displacement of indigenous inhabitants and in preserving local values and traditions.
4. I skimmed through the two chapters about the 1940-45 period. This probably didn’t have anything to do with the author’s writing, but rather, my lackluster interest in the subject matters.
5. I was curious about that “Thé des Plateaux Moïs” photo in the book and came across this little interesting article about plateau tea on pages 48-49, Tìm Cây Trà Rừng (Trịnh Chu, 2016; from Văn Hóa Phật Giáo Magazine, 1 July 2016 issue).
6. I sometimes wonder whether materials written in languages other than the subject matter’s native language should follow the latter’s conventions for proper names. I couldn’t get my hands on the Vietnamese translation, so it was difficult to correlate the names in the book to the Vietnamese proper names. For instance, what/where is "Daban" or "Dan-Him"???
There are inconsistencies, one-syllable names sandwiched between multiple-syllable ones. Examples:
a.
b.

The proper name variations that I have come across – not just in this book, but any books not written by native Vietnamese – are:
- As they appear in Vietnamese: Phan Thiet, Phan Rang, Quy Nhon. Sometimes even with tone marks, like Sông Pha.
- As one word with multiple syllables: Donnaï (Đồng Nai), Darlac (Đắk Lắk), Banmethuot, Baria, Tayninh.
- With hyphens: Quin-Hon (inconsistent with the “Quy Nhon” mentioned above), Bien-Hoa, Nghe-An.
(The same thing happens with personal names, such as Empress Nam Phuong and Emperor Bao Dai on one page vs. Empress Nam-Phuong and Nguyen-Huu-Hao on another.)
I guess I can’t complain, however, because I’m not knowledgeable enough about the etymology of those names. And even some of them with ethnic minority origins have yet to be standardized in Vietnamese (quốc ngữ hóa). Like Kontum vs. Đắk Lắk vs. Buôn Ma Thuột. I’d love to receive any recommendations on books/resources about the history of Vietnamese proper names! :)
* Notes:
Djiring = Di Linh
Darlac = Đắk Lắk
Darnom = Đắk Nông
August 27, 2021
phần cuối đọc hơi đuối
May 18, 2020
Always nice to read something about colonialism in depth, rather than satisfying oneself with vague allusions (in the form of hyperlinks you don't actually click) in left and right wing editorials. A much more complex and intriguing history reveals itself.
Didn't know there was an Indochine version of Colonel Kurtz. Didn't know colonialism and racism was experienced differently by highland minorities compared to Vietnamese. Didn't know about the scale and intensity of Viet Minh assassinations towards the end of the colonial period, or the Dalat Massacre of 1951. There's enough drama here to fill several Hollywood films (perhaps if I knew French cinema better, this history is not as unrepresented as I think?). As a politics nerd, the tension and interplay between Vietnamese, French and Japanese authorities during the Japanese occupation was fascinating as well.
This was also my first microhistory. I dig the genre a lot. It almost reads more like a novel, or series of short stories about a place, where you get to know people and places more intimately, rather than those high-level, top-down history textbooks you remember from school. Jennings does a good job of not getting lost in the details though, and always connects the parts to the whole, demonstrating well how the processes and events in Dalat are emblematic of or influencing Vietnam as a whole.
A nice read all in all. Jennings writes well for an academic. One star off only because it does suffer from redundancy a bit, almost as though he wrote the chapters months apart, forgetting points he had already made at length already just a few pages earlier. Maybe it's necessary since this book is for academic, not general audiences.
Didn't know there was an Indochine version of Colonel Kurtz. Didn't know colonialism and racism was experienced differently by highland minorities compared to Vietnamese. Didn't know about the scale and intensity of Viet Minh assassinations towards the end of the colonial period, or the Dalat Massacre of 1951. There's enough drama here to fill several Hollywood films (perhaps if I knew French cinema better, this history is not as unrepresented as I think?). As a politics nerd, the tension and interplay between Vietnamese, French and Japanese authorities during the Japanese occupation was fascinating as well.
This was also my first microhistory. I dig the genre a lot. It almost reads more like a novel, or series of short stories about a place, where you get to know people and places more intimately, rather than those high-level, top-down history textbooks you remember from school. Jennings does a good job of not getting lost in the details though, and always connects the parts to the whole, demonstrating well how the processes and events in Dalat are emblematic of or influencing Vietnam as a whole.
A nice read all in all. Jennings writes well for an academic. One star off only because it does suffer from redundancy a bit, almost as though he wrote the chapters months apart, forgetting points he had already made at length already just a few pages earlier. Maybe it's necessary since this book is for academic, not general audiences.
February 9, 2017
Chalets nestled alongside soaring pines and cold lakes with scatterings of frolicking deer hardly tend to conjure up grandiose notions of empire, but in Vietnam this is precisely where one can find a once celebrated seat of imperial power. Situated in the alpine terrain and temperate climes of the Lang-Bian plateau lies the city of Dalat, the former capital of the Federation of Indochina during the Second World War.
Originally established in 1897 by the French as a sanitarium for sick colons, Dalat evolved into a popular holiday locale for Europeans looking to escape the sweltering heat of Southern Vietnam. Its mostly cool, conducive climate allowed it to become a redoubt of familiarity for Europeans (the cultivation of familiar produce and a comfortable environment for sport were very much preferred). Colonists enjoyed weekend visits and reveled in a taste of home and its stature swelled with the foreign crowd in the first half of the twentieth century. French administrative power in Indochina slowly accumulated in Dalat and eventually the hilly hideaway would even house the summer residences of both the government general as well as the king of Annam. However, as would become of the French empire throughout Southeast Asia, Dalat also came to be a cauldron of contradictions and disputes between the colonizers and the colonized on several levels and is thus a symbol of the overall colonial history in this area. This is the argument underpinning Imperial Heights: Dalat and the Making and Undoing of French Indochina by historian Eric T. Jennings. This well-developed monograph chronicles the creation and development of the colonial hill station while simultaneously depicting power relationships within the French colonial experience through the lenses of important themes such as labour, race, and politics.
Methodologically, Jennings arranges Imperial Heights thematically into fourteen chapters, which are further subdivided by convenient subheadings. These along with his stylish writing makes the book accommodating for scholars of French imperialism or postcolonial studies, as well as digestible enough for those with a more general interest in the history of Vietnam. Jennings’ consideration of Dalat as representative of the French Indochinese colonial project penetrates numerous aspects of life in the colonial hill station, including subjects as diverse as religion, climate, architecture, gender, and leisure. Early on, he states emphatically that Dalat “is so enigmatic in large part because it almost encapsulates the colonial era, and its contested legacies and memories.” Throughout the work, Jennings convincingly and consistently conveys this lofty notion, especially within several compelling chapters. Most revealing is the chapter documenting the harsh treatment of minority and Vietnamese coolies by Europeans during initial expeditions to uncover the mysterious highlands of the Lang-Bian. From the founding of the modern Indochinese federation to the waning days of French colonialism in the region, the construction of Dalat coincided in an attempt to be something it would never entirely achieve: a haven for healthy living as well as a sanctuary of European culture and sensibilities. Early into the highland experiment the French learned that tropical diseases could find their way into the cooler mountain altitudes. They would also discover that Dalat was not free from the divisions of race and class or the many colonial anxieties that existed elsewhere in the colony.
Even exceptional works are not without their flaws. For one, the perspectives and recollections of the Vietnamese are seldom heard, while the minority peoples are reduced to the role of bystander, often as the silent victim in a story about brutal and racist colonial labour practices or abuse. Also garnering little more than mere mention on a number of occasions in the book were the hill stations of other colonial powers, most often that of Simla in British India. Jennings feels the need to reference these other upland stations for comparative purposes at various junctures, but he does so with practically no explanation or description of them. In one section subtitled “Foreign Models,” he dedicates most of the details to foreign designs and how they differed from Dalat. That being said, such minor critiques still allows for the robust thesis and substantial evidence presented in Imperial Heights to carry the day.
The body of historical work on the French colonial empire had routinely lagged behind other imperial historiographies until the twenty-first century. Jennings’ impressive scholarship on the topic (this is his third book published focusing on French imperialism) has helped to fill that void. His writing is colourful and charming without being grandiloquent, but it is his extensive historiographical research approach that should gain the most admiration. Imperial Heights is successful due in large part to comprehensive primary archival research, much of which was not available to scholars outside of Vietnam until recently. In fact, restrictions remain on archival sources from as far back as the post-World War II years, but especially for those from the more recent past, which continues to hamper French Indochina historical scholarship today. Sources that are available provide an incomplete or biased picture of the city during a period of significant conflict. However, Jennings does admirable work with what he does have. The book also delivers firsthand accounts from individuals who grew up and went to school in Dalat. The city evolved into a popular centre for education after first being imagined as a safe and healthy retreat away from the heavily populated lowlands. In addition, Imperial Heights displays a handful of images of artifacts, such as posters and luggage tags, which portray the hill station and the minority populations inhabiting the region as the French imagined them, generating abundant ethnographical contemplations.
Today, the kitschy city of Dalat draws tourists to its honeymooning hotspots and “Indochic” tourist traps, a far cry from the dominant colonial hill station of its former glory. While salubrious sentiments may have propelled the creation of Dalat in the first place and relative isolation facilitated increased French colonial influence in the mountain region over time, closer historical inspection revealed it to be neither sanctuary nor stronghold. More accurately it was a paradox of French colonial peculiarity in the highlands of Vietnam that took upon itself the ugly trappings of empire and in many important aspects mirrored life in the rest of the colony.
Originally established in 1897 by the French as a sanitarium for sick colons, Dalat evolved into a popular holiday locale for Europeans looking to escape the sweltering heat of Southern Vietnam. Its mostly cool, conducive climate allowed it to become a redoubt of familiarity for Europeans (the cultivation of familiar produce and a comfortable environment for sport were very much preferred). Colonists enjoyed weekend visits and reveled in a taste of home and its stature swelled with the foreign crowd in the first half of the twentieth century. French administrative power in Indochina slowly accumulated in Dalat and eventually the hilly hideaway would even house the summer residences of both the government general as well as the king of Annam. However, as would become of the French empire throughout Southeast Asia, Dalat also came to be a cauldron of contradictions and disputes between the colonizers and the colonized on several levels and is thus a symbol of the overall colonial history in this area. This is the argument underpinning Imperial Heights: Dalat and the Making and Undoing of French Indochina by historian Eric T. Jennings. This well-developed monograph chronicles the creation and development of the colonial hill station while simultaneously depicting power relationships within the French colonial experience through the lenses of important themes such as labour, race, and politics.
Methodologically, Jennings arranges Imperial Heights thematically into fourteen chapters, which are further subdivided by convenient subheadings. These along with his stylish writing makes the book accommodating for scholars of French imperialism or postcolonial studies, as well as digestible enough for those with a more general interest in the history of Vietnam. Jennings’ consideration of Dalat as representative of the French Indochinese colonial project penetrates numerous aspects of life in the colonial hill station, including subjects as diverse as religion, climate, architecture, gender, and leisure. Early on, he states emphatically that Dalat “is so enigmatic in large part because it almost encapsulates the colonial era, and its contested legacies and memories.” Throughout the work, Jennings convincingly and consistently conveys this lofty notion, especially within several compelling chapters. Most revealing is the chapter documenting the harsh treatment of minority and Vietnamese coolies by Europeans during initial expeditions to uncover the mysterious highlands of the Lang-Bian. From the founding of the modern Indochinese federation to the waning days of French colonialism in the region, the construction of Dalat coincided in an attempt to be something it would never entirely achieve: a haven for healthy living as well as a sanctuary of European culture and sensibilities. Early into the highland experiment the French learned that tropical diseases could find their way into the cooler mountain altitudes. They would also discover that Dalat was not free from the divisions of race and class or the many colonial anxieties that existed elsewhere in the colony.
Even exceptional works are not without their flaws. For one, the perspectives and recollections of the Vietnamese are seldom heard, while the minority peoples are reduced to the role of bystander, often as the silent victim in a story about brutal and racist colonial labour practices or abuse. Also garnering little more than mere mention on a number of occasions in the book were the hill stations of other colonial powers, most often that of Simla in British India. Jennings feels the need to reference these other upland stations for comparative purposes at various junctures, but he does so with practically no explanation or description of them. In one section subtitled “Foreign Models,” he dedicates most of the details to foreign designs and how they differed from Dalat. That being said, such minor critiques still allows for the robust thesis and substantial evidence presented in Imperial Heights to carry the day.
The body of historical work on the French colonial empire had routinely lagged behind other imperial historiographies until the twenty-first century. Jennings’ impressive scholarship on the topic (this is his third book published focusing on French imperialism) has helped to fill that void. His writing is colourful and charming without being grandiloquent, but it is his extensive historiographical research approach that should gain the most admiration. Imperial Heights is successful due in large part to comprehensive primary archival research, much of which was not available to scholars outside of Vietnam until recently. In fact, restrictions remain on archival sources from as far back as the post-World War II years, but especially for those from the more recent past, which continues to hamper French Indochina historical scholarship today. Sources that are available provide an incomplete or biased picture of the city during a period of significant conflict. However, Jennings does admirable work with what he does have. The book also delivers firsthand accounts from individuals who grew up and went to school in Dalat. The city evolved into a popular centre for education after first being imagined as a safe and healthy retreat away from the heavily populated lowlands. In addition, Imperial Heights displays a handful of images of artifacts, such as posters and luggage tags, which portray the hill station and the minority populations inhabiting the region as the French imagined them, generating abundant ethnographical contemplations.
Today, the kitschy city of Dalat draws tourists to its honeymooning hotspots and “Indochic” tourist traps, a far cry from the dominant colonial hill station of its former glory. While salubrious sentiments may have propelled the creation of Dalat in the first place and relative isolation facilitated increased French colonial influence in the mountain region over time, closer historical inspection revealed it to be neither sanctuary nor stronghold. More accurately it was a paradox of French colonial peculiarity in the highlands of Vietnam that took upon itself the ugly trappings of empire and in many important aspects mirrored life in the rest of the colony.
November 22, 2024
Thoroughly enjoyed this romp through Dalat. Impeccably researched. Detailed with surprising pieces of new information and history. I know the records are scarce, as the author freely admits, but I would have loved more details as to what went on during the post April 1975 time frame as that leaves a 20 year gap. I think you need to have visited Dalat to truly appreciate this work. I first went in 1996 and made several trips after. Was always intrigued by the place but never had all this background. Wish this book had been written back in the early 90s before my visits as I would have loved hunting down some of the spots the author details.
November 3, 2019
Fascinating, if a bit repetitive, history of Dalat. As with most history books on Vietnam - everything seems to build towards the war, with anything post 75 given a few pages.
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December 18, 2020Tôi đang tìm đọc sách này. Bạn nào có, có thể share được không ạ?
February 23, 2021
Định cho 3 sao mà thấy hơi phũ với công sức của tác giả.
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August 12, 2021Mình đang tìm đọc sách này, ai đó có thể cho mình mượn hoặc bán lại mình với ạ. Mình xin cảm ơn
September 13, 2015
Historians often have a mastery of English, making their works delightful to read. Mr. Jennings, despite the delightful topic, has managed to present a fairly pedestrian and prosaic work. Given the paucity of information about Dalat in English, Mr. Jennings work is welcome. But, in terms of prose, writers like Barbara Tuchman leave Mr. Jennings far behind.
December 16, 2024
Không thực sự đi sâu vào 1 khía cạnh cụ thể nào mà chỉ miêu tả qua loa
March 18, 2019
Please
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews