Banyan Moon

by Thao Thai

A sweeping, evocative debut novel following three generations of Vietnamese American women reeling from the death of their matriarch, revealing the family’s inherited burdens, buried secrets, and unlikely love stories.  When Ann Tran gets the call that her fiercely beloved grandmother, Minh, has passed away, her life is already at a crossroads. In the years since she’s last seen Minh, Ann has built a seemingly perfect life—a beautiful lake house, a charming professor boyfriend, and invites to elegant parties that bubble over with champagne and good taste—but it all crumbles with one positive pregnancy test. With both her relationship and carefully planned future now in question, Ann returns home to Florida to face her estranged mother, Huơng. Back in Florida, Huơng is simultaneously mourning her mother and resenting her for having the relationship with Ann that she never did. Then Ann and Huơng learn that Minh has left them both the Banyan House, the crumbling old manor that was Ann’s childhood home, in all its strange, Gothic glory. Under the same roof for the first time in years, mother and daughter must face the simmering questions of their past and their uncertain futures, while trying to rebuild their relationship without the one person who’s always held them together. Running parallel to this is Minh’s story, as she goes from a lovestruck teenager living in the shadow of the Vietnam War to a determined young mother immigrating to America in search of a better life for her children. And when Ann makes a shocking discovery in the Banyan House’s attic, long-buried secrets come to light as it becomes clear how decisions Minh made in her youth affected the rest of her life—and beyond. Spanning decades and continents, from 1960s Vietnam to the wild swamplands of the Florida coast,  Banyan Moon  is a stunning and deeply moving story of mothers and daughters, the things we inherit, and the lives we choose to make out of that inheritance.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Book Club, Audiobook, Contemporary, Literary Fiction, Historical

336 pages, Kindle Edition

First published June 27, 2023

About the author

I’m the author of Banyan Moon, the July 2023 Read with Jenna title, Barnes & Noble Discover Pick, and Book of the Month selection. Banyan Moon was also selected by booksellers as an IndieNext pick. The novel was awarded the Crook's Corner Book Prize and longlisted for the Center for Fiction's First Novel Prize. A recipient of the 2024 Ohio Arts Council’s Individual Excellence Award, my work has been published in the Los Angeles Review of Books, WIRED, Elle, Lit Hub, and other publications. I live in central Ohio with my husband and daughter. My forthcoming novel, The Seekers of Deer Creek, will be released August 4, 2026.

Reviews

[Mai H. · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Viet book girlies are very divided on this one, but I loved it. As always, I don't know why I held off for so long, but I'm here now. While I'm not always one for purple prose, I find it weaves through the story beautifully.

In the same vein that THE FORTUNES OF JADED WOMEN highlights three generations of Vietnamese American women, so too does this novel. These women aren't the most likable, but for me, they certainly are relatable. Minh is the matriarch of the family, and while she doesn't have the best relationship with her daughter, Huơng, she finds closeness with her granddaughter, Ann. Huơng and Ann do not speak, and we learn why later on in the story.

If you read CENTRAL PLACES, a book I loved, but is also divisive to many, Ann reminds me a lot of Audrey. There's the new upgraded boyfriend. There's also the hometown boy. This isn't SWEET HOME ALABAMA.

The imagery is vast, and I imagine confusing at times. When Minh passes, we still get POV chapters from her. If I hadn't read WANDERING SOULS, which makes use of the same motif, I may have been more confused.

There are some reveals in the last 20% that may make or break the novel for you. I found them a long time coming, so I enjoyed them, but I was also warned about them.

I don't enjoy every Vietnamese diaspora story, but I greatly enjoyed this one. My dad talks about leaving Vietnam every so often, but I've only heard his full story once. I heard my mom's once, from someone else. I used to want to coax it out of her, but I realize now that I'm not entitled to her story. One of the book crew said this story was too much trauma porn for her, and I get that. I can't take too many trauma stories, either. But if you can handle it, and understand it, there is something to be learned and digested here.

📱 Thank you to NetGalley and Mariner Books

[Sharon Orlopp · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thao Thai does a fabulous job in her novel, Banyan Moon, sharing the journey of three generations of Vietnamese women. Each of the three women are single mothers trying to do what is right for their children while also facing their fears and human flaws.

One of my favorite passages from the book is, "Grief is a lake of perilously thin ice."

I just finished Dark Corners before reading Banyan Moon. Both books refer to ouroboros, snakes which eat their own tails. It is an unusual word to see in two different books back-to-back.

[Bkwmlee · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve been reading quite a few new releases the last couple of months and while many of those I enjoyed immensely (majority have been 4 and 4.5 star reads thankfully), I had yet to come across one that I could truly categorize as a 5 star level “this book blew me away” type read (so far this year, I’ve rated 2 books 5 stars, but both were backlist reads). Well, heading into summer reading season, I’m happy to report that I’ve finally come across my first 5 star read among the plentiful 2023 new releases — Thao Thai’s spectacular debut novel Banyan Moon (scheduled for publication in June).

There was so much to unpack with this book, I’m honestly not sure where to begin. Perhaps the best place to start would be what attracted me to this book in the first place — as soon as I read the premise, especially the following last paragraph, I knew that this was a book I abs had to read: “Spanning decades and continents, from 1960s Vietnam to the wild swamplands of the Florida coast, Banyan Moon is a stunning and deeply moving story of mothers and daughters, the things we inherit, and the lives we choose to make out of that inheritance.”

First of all, I love sweeping family sagas, but in particular, I’m drawn to stories about mother/daughter relationships. Part of the reason I gravitate toward these types of stories is because I have a complicated relationship with my own mother, so I’m constantly on the lookout for books that explore this — particularly between Asian mothers and daughters, as there are usually familiar cultural dynamics involved that inform these relationships, which can hopefully help me make sense of my own.

To be honest, reading this book was like a gut punch for me because I resonated so deeply with each of the 3 main characters — Minh (grandmother and family matriarch), Huong (Minh’s daughter and Ann’s mother), and Ann (Minh’s granddaughter, Huong’s daughter, and herself about to become a mother) — and the various misunderstandings and disagreements that defined their relationship with each other. I understood Ann’s feeling of being adrift and floating and not really knowing what she wanted to do with her life, only that she wanted to escape from the perpetual tension that always existed when she was in her mother’s presence. I also understood Huong’s feelings of inadequacy — both as a mother and as a daughter — and feeling like she had no choice but to resign herself to a life that reflected what others wanted rather than what she actually wanted. And yes, I also understood Minh’s struggle, why she became the overbearing force to be reckoned with in the family, and what necessitated her urge to protect her granddaughter at all costs. So many of the dynamics that were at play between these three women felt so familiar to me, as they reflected some of my experiences and struggles with my own family over the years: for instance: the inability to communicate our true feelings no matter how hard we try, and then being bogged down by endless guilt and regret that never truly goes away; the resentment and hurt built up from a lifetime of letting fear and desperation dictate our words and actions, resulting in us saying things to each other that we may not really mean, but that end up dealing irreparable damage to our relationships; and for me, this one was the most poignant and heartbreaking — the constant struggle with understanding the different ways to love someone and the impossibility of choosing a “right” or “wrong” way to love (especially where family is concerned). As an indication of how deeply this story resonated with me — during various points as I was reading, I actually had to set the book down in order to wipe away tears that seemed to appear of their own accord.

Another thing that blew me away with this book was the writing. I love beautiful prose and this one definitely had plenty of it! When I read fiction, I tend to read straight through without marking up any passages because I don’t want to break up the flow of the story, but in this instance, I couldn’t help myself — some of the passages, in articulating the complexities of the relationship between the 3 generations of Tran women, also described my own feelings so precisely that I just had to mark them for rereading and reflection later.

One other thing I wanted to mention is the format of the narrative, which, except for the first chapter, alternated between the perspectives of Minh, Huong, and Ann, both in the present day as well as going back to the past. This format was powerful, I felt, as juxtaposing the three women’s stories in this way not only helped us see how each navigated her role as daughters (which is important because of how much these experiences shaped their future roles as mothers), but it also helped us to see how similar some of their motivations were, yet how differently their lives turned out based on the choices they made.

As I mentioned earlier, there is a lot to unpack with this one and the above only touches upon a few of my initial thoughts about certain aspects of the story that resonated with me, which of course only scratches the surface of what this book is about. This is why I’m so glad that one of my book clubs chose this as a monthly read, as I now have an excuse to go back and reread this in preparation for the discussion. Definitely looking forward to it!

Received ARC from Mariner Books via BookBrowse First Impressions program.

[Fiona · Rating 3 out of 5]

At first, I felt drawn to the character of Ann in this multigenerational family saga told through the voices of Ann, her mother and grandmother. I began to dislike her when I realised how unforgiving she was towards everybody, some with good reason, others with little or none. Her mother isn’t much more likeable but I felt sorry for her.

There isn’t much in the way of joy in this book. If you take pleasure in reading about other families’ misery then you’ll probably enjoy it. If you persevere, you will learn about the earlier lives of the three women, the events and paths they took that shaped their characters. Some of the writing is quite beautiful but I found many of the analogies quite pithy and irritating. Ultimately the content, the structure, and the writing style just aren’t for me.

With thanks to NetGalley and Quercus Books for a review copy. Quercus invited me to read this as I’d enjoyed The Night Tiger by Yangsze Choo but it, in my opinion, is a far better read than this.

[Thomas · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars

I liked how this novel portrayed three generations of complex, flawed, and strong Vietnamese women. Thao Thai highlights the effects of intergenerational trauma as well as how compassion and care can be passed down through families as well. I for the most part also appreciated the portrayal of patriarchy and how Thai highlighted that the different men in this novel either fully participated in sexism and misogyny or did small yet meaningful actions to support the women in their lives.

On the more negative side, I felt that the quality of the prose didn’t fully support the ambitious themes of the novel. Sometimes the writing felt dry or the similes or metaphors came across as forced. I also didn’t love the one passage where one of the Vietnamese women basically thinks that a white man thinking of her as fragile or doll-like is similar to her making assumptions about him because he’s a white man; there’s a huge power imbalance between white people making stereotypes about Asian people and Asian people generalizing about white people. I think where Thai left Ann’s character was a smart and empowering choice, though the inclusion of Noah’s character – and the space devoted to him – felt unnecessary.

[Neale · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ann and her mother, Huong, have never been close. Ann was always closer to Minh, her grandmother. However, when Ann’s grandmother dies, and she finds out that her boyfriend has been cheating on her she realizes that she has nobody else to turn to for help with her grief. She returns to the Banyan House in Florida to mourn and say goodbye to her beloved grandmother.

The Banyan House is an enormous ramshackle old house in which the three women lived. A house left to them both in her grandmother’s will. The Banyan House almost feels like a character itself and is integral to the story. It is where the whole story virtually takes place, full of memories and secrets.

Ann, Huong, and Minh, all take turns narrating a narrative that will dip back in time to the past. Minh narrates her story as a ghost “haunting” the Banyan House. Watching and listening to her daughter and granddaughter as a spirit.

The reader builds the complete story from the three different perspectives. Perspectives that reveal how each woman feels toward the other, the secrets which exist between the three women. The guilt, the love, the anger, and sadness. Huong feels resentment towards Minh, exasperated by how close her daughter and grandmother still are. Ann growing up without a father figure plagues her with guilt. Ann’s life is in a transitional stage. Pregnant and not sure if she even wants to return to the father, she misses her grandmother more than ever.

This novel is really all about relationships. The relationships between the three women. The strength, the fraying, the rebuilding of these relationships. Most especially the relationship between a mother and daughter.

Thai’s writing style is descriptive and metaphorical adding to what is a brilliant character driven debut novel.

[Beth Van Fossen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Banyan Moon is Thao Thai’s debut novel and to some degree, it shows. The book has a compelling storyline but its execution is a little spotty. The overabundance of metaphors, similes and alliteration in the early chapters was jarring: “Her gait was purposeful but pinched. There was something dry and dangerous about her, like flint meeting flint.” but that tendency evened out as the story progressed. I liked the way the characters evolved and grew in understanding of themselves and each other even after death. It was also annoying to reach the end of the book with the often alluded to mystery of how Minh bought Banyan House from an “old white woman” and why she felt compelled to keep all the woman’s possessions intact, a storyline which seems central to understanding how Minh became the person she was, unresolved. I’m still wondering about that days after finishing the book. In sum, it was a good but not great debut effort. I do think this author will grow into her art and I will look forward to reading her next book.

[Emily Coffee and Commentary · Rating 3 out of 5]

A moving family saga that highlights the struggles and secrets of three generations of women, and the love and clarity found along the way. From 1960’d Vietnam to contemporary Florida, Banyan Moon expertly discusses the delicate relationships between mother and daughters, the sacrifices made and the bonds tested over the years. It attests to the sentiment that sometimes you have to tear everything down in order to see things as they truly are; the best new life often comes from the ashes of fires; memories and truth must be laid out for healing and forgiveness to flourish. This is a moving debut that examines the importance of inheritance, not just of things, memories, but of feelings, of love, and of resilience; it is an emotional journey filled with heart.

[vi_reads · Rating 1 out of 5]

I absolutely could not stand the writing style of this book. It was super clunky with random SAT words thrown in the mix. The dialogue between grandmother/mother/daughter was unrealistic (who even speaks like that) and there were waaaaay too many plot holes. How did the family come to own the house in FLORIDA of all places? At risk of being too spoilery, what comes of some of the dead relatives??? The depictions of abusive and volatile behavior of the Viet men are rarely addressed in a nuanced way--it felt like they were violent for the sake of adding violence to the book.

This book was truly all over the place and I walked away feeling like nothing stuck except for the icky feeling in the pit of my stomach.

[TracyGH · Rating 5 out of 5]

Out of 52 books so far this year this is my sixth 5 ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ read.

What a debut! This Vietnamese-American book was a drama I adored. The complex layers of multi-generation relationships between mothers and daughters. (And the husbands too!)

The ending was perfection. 🌙 🌳
I look forward to more from this talented writer.

[Cookie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ann Tran seems to have a content life with her boyfriend. Just as their relationship begins to fall apart, Ann gets a phone call from Huong, her mother, and she informs her that her grandmother, Minh, has passed away. Ann goes to her childhood home but it isn't easy with her estranged relationship with her mother. As Ann and her mother grieve, they must navigate how to move on from their pasts and find their way back to one another.

This story was a multi-generational story told from three perspectives: Ann, Huong, and Minh. As with many books that have multiple points-of-view, it took me a while to feel connected to the characters and their stories. Reading stories from more than two POVs always feels splintered to me. Once we got to see more of Minh's story from her time in Vietnam and Huong's story from her marriage, I couldn't put the book down. They each had intriguing back stories that showed how strong they were. Minh and Huong had to survive some tragic things and I was in awe of how strong they seemed to be in spite of it all.

Ann was my least favorite character of the three along the way, but she won me over in the end. I thought it was interesting to see the differences a generation makes in terms of parent-child dynamics. There were some scenes where I couldn't stop thinking "I would never speak to my mother that way" - but in some ways it made sense because she was raised differently from her own mother, who was an immigrant herself.

This was an intriguing family drama mixed with historical fiction. I enjoyed seeing my parents' culture on the page through Minh's flashbacks of her life in Vietnam.

⚠️: infidelity, death of a loved one, grief, depression, suicidal thoughts, war, domestic violence, child abuse, murder

I received a complimentary ARC from the publisher.

[David · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was an interesting family saga with mother/daughter relationships at its heart. It was good to see the three main characters having flaws and they were all dislikable at times.

[Shantha (ShanthasBookEra) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Banyan Moon follows three generations of Vietnamese women. Minh, her daughter Huong, and granddaughter Ann. The novel switches perspectives and time between the three women starting in 1960s Vietnam to the purchase of the Banyan House in Florida and beyond. Thao Thai explores some compelling themes in this debut novel: motherhood, marriage, immigrant life, death of loved ones, life after death, domestic abuse and its aftermath, and being a single mom. The first forty percent of the novel had some great quotes but moved slowly. I'm glad I stuck with it because I loved the second half. The women's relationships with each other suffer following the death of Minh, who was close to her granddaughter Ann but not her daughter Huong. Huong harbors resentment about this, and she and Ann need to heal their relationship when Ann returns to Banyan House in the aftermath of her grandmother's death. It is a beautiful story of loss, love, and how family secrets can threaten to break us apart.

[Karen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Thank you to BookBrowse and Mariner/HarperCollins for this Advanced Reader's Edition.
I'm sorry to say but this book was not as interesting as I thought it would be. I was hoping for something more steeped in Vietnamese culture and history. But what I got was a story of a dysfunctional family that could have been from anywhere, from any culture. I love stories that take place in other countries, I'm particularly interested right now in Vietnam. I will be traveling there soon. I thought this would be a good book to learn more about the war from the point of view of Minh.

Maybe I missed something, but I never really knew why Minh settled in Florida and why she purchased the Banyan House.

Goodreads gives this book 4.45 stars, which is incredibly high. It will be interesting to see the rating once the book is published. The writing was good, some very beautiful sentences. I just am not that excited to recommend to other readers.

[Michelle · Rating 2 out of 5]

this one really didn’t do it for me. lacked depth & tried to make up with a constant use of metaphors & similes, felt a bit forced & like every sentence wanted to be a quote on its own lol it’s giving ~tumblr 2012~

[Lori · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 Three generations of Vietnamese women live/have lived in a crumbling Florida mansion. Their stories are told - past and present - as the mothers and daughters come to terms with their relationships. This started out strong for me, but basically went nowhere and a central question was not answered in the end, which was rather unsatisfying.

[Viv · Rating 5 out of 5]

the way this just hit me in all of the right places

[Amy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Listen to Thao Thai on the Book Gang Podcast NOW! We discuss The Best Debuts of 2023 (So Far) on our show this week.
***

I have followed Thao Thai's essays for years, and how she captures motherhood on a page, speaking to the complicated journey of "good mothers," gives the nod to our secret selves that we hold at a distance through that season.

Set against the stunning backdrop of Vietnam and Florida, Banyan Moon will be one of your favorite reads this year- it left me breathless and highlighting passages throughout the story.

This emotional debut novel follows three generations of Vietnamese American women grappling with the death of their matriarch, Minh.

As Minh's granddaughter, Ann faces a crossroads in her seemingly perfect life, she returns home to Florida to help her estranged mother clean out the estate. As the two begin this daunting process, they also start to unravel their own long-buried secrets in Minh's old manor, the Banyan House.

The house and its belongings are just as intriguing as the story. But, more importantly, readers are given a cinematic snapshot into the everyday life of people surrounded by the harrowing hardships of war but reminded that there is still vivid beauty and normalcy in the strange ways we adapt to adversities. Minh’s story, most of all, shines.

Fans of Panchinko's multigenerational legacy story will be captivated by this richly imaginative mother-daughter story spanning decades, generations and the unique bonds of motherhood.

Thank you to Mariner for the advanced copy for our show! Congratulations to Thao on her recent selection as the July 2023 Read With Jenna pick!

[Kim · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book started with great potential. The writing is strong and beautiful. However, as time went on I struggled to like any of the characters. It’s a heavy, oppressive, sad and frustrating book—like the characters are determined to be hard and unhappy.

Not my cup of tea.

[olivia miss_ipkiss_reads · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5

I read this in less than a day, once I got started I couldn’t put it down.

Banyan Moon is a fierce novel about 3 generations of Vietnamese women. Their stories and love for each other speaks to the conflicting hatred and gratitude of familial bonds.

I found the relationship between mothers and daughters deeply moving and was happily surprised to find the story has somewhat of a gothic flare/haunted house theme.

I highly recommend if you are looking for an immersive family saga to read this summer!

Thanks to Mariner Books and HarperCollins Canada for sending me a finished copy! So glad I read this one :)

[Nadia]

Love the multigenerational stories that let us see the most life-shaping inheritances. Beautifully told.

[Renee Godding · Rating 5 out of 5]

Actual Rating: 4.5/5 stars

“I come from a tribe of women who are ravaged and joyous, loud, raging, tied to our own convoluted histories. We are a knot of branches, mud-speckled and ever-searching.”

When it comes to literary fiction, multi-generational family-saga’s focusing on mother-daughter relationships are like catnip to me. So when I was offered the change to review an early copy of Thao Thai’s debut novel covering just those themes, I jumped at the opportunity. I was not disappointed.
With remarkable skill, Thai relays a story of generational grief, motherhood and the Vietnamese immigrant experience, as a mother and daughter collide following the death of their family matriarch.

We follow three generations of the Tran-women; Ann, who seemingly lives the American-dream life as a successful illustrator in Michigan, her estrange mother Huong, and matriarch Ming who’s always acted as a mediator in the tense relationship of the former two. When Ann’s life is shaken up by the surprise of a positive pregnancy-test, followed closely by the contrasting news that her grandmother Ming has passed away, she returns to their ancestral home (the titular Banyan House) to meet up with her estrange mother, and get their affairs in order. Under the same roof for the first time in years, mother and daughter must face the simmering questions of their past and their uncertain futures, while trying to rebuild their relationship without the one person who’s always held them together.

From the very first chapter, the novel shines in setting up three strong and well-rounded protagonists; interesting and engaging on their own, but even more so when pitted against each other in their complex dynamics. Within the opening chapter, the tension between these women is already palpable, as we’re introduced to them through a flashback of the three of them on a beach-stroll in 1998. Already; misunderstandings, resentment, expectations and unspoken traumas have their relationship on thin ice at that time. Years later, we see how these cracks have formed into caverns, dividing the family and creating patterns that prove difficult to break.
Like with any of my favourite generational tales, the lives of these women neatly slot into each-other like a series of matryoshka dolls; each unique, but echoing of each-other into a repeating cycle. Their developed characters and individual humanity makes their dynamics relatable and understandable to the reader, regardless of your own family-experiences.
All of this is strengthened and supported by the immersive setting of their gothic-, historical mansion; a home that (literally) carries their family legacy within its walls. Without any supernatural elements involved, there is a sense of haunting within these walls; not a ghostly one, but one of history and lived experiences that left a mark. In such, I also love the thematic implications of the novels name. Banyan trees, also known as strangler-figs, grow on top of other trees and send their roots down through cracks and branches, just like the memories and experiences of these women do to the generations that follow them. It’s a metaphor that’s slightly on the nose, but easily forgiven as it works in context.

Thematically, Banyan Moon reminded me somewhat of Ocean Vuongs debut novel On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous. Although Thai’s prose doesn’t reach the lyricism of Vuongs poetic background, both present a beautiful atmospheric tale of motherhood and multiple generations of Vietnamese-American immigration. If you loved one, I highly recommend the other.

Many thanks to Quercus Books for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

[dreamgirlreading · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this intergenerational story about Vietnamese-American grandmother, mother, and daughter. The characters felt very human, flawed and vulnerable. Their family history felt very real. Some questions went unanswered but it didn't bother me. More of a review to come after my discussion with the group of lovely ladies who are reading along with me!

What I love most about this book is that all the women realized their mother’s humanness, including their flaws, which I think in turn makes each of them wonderful mothers. Although each of their lives were so different, all their family history led them to becoming strong, complex, independent women. They all dealt with men who took from them but they in turn saved the human life that those men gave them and did their best to provide for them. Ann by the end after holding onto her grandmother’s secret realizes the importance of her child knowing his father even if they aren’t married or together at all. She still doesn’t know the abuse that her own mother went through with her father and maybe that’s okay. Her mother is hiding her trauma, just like her mother before her hid hers. I didn’t understand how Phuoc was so shitty toward his family but that goes to show that you can be raised in the same house hold and turn out very different from your siblings.

I also just really love how Ann and her mother are continuing the cycle of child, mother, and grandmother living together. Relationships with grandmothers are so sacred and important. Grandparents can often show you love in ways they didn’t know how to show their own children at the time (because they were still learning themselves). Sometimes it brings animosity but I think toward the end when Hua met her own grandchild, she finally understood the connection that a grandmother can have with their grand baby. I loved how we got a glimpse from Minh’s ghost perspective of still looking out for her babies. She would do whatever it took to protect them in life and even in death too as we see her screams wake up sleeping Ann as the fire erupts in the Banyan House

[Ann · Rating 4 out of 5]

It is very hard to believe that this is a debut novel – the writing is beautiful, skilled and thought provoking. This is a story of three generations of women in a family: grandmother, mother and daughter. The grandmother and mother (as a child) were Vietnamese refugees, and the three women maintain many aspects of Vietnamese culture. The three of them live (for most of the novel) together in a large, dilapidated house called the Banyan House, located in Florida. The heart of the story, however, is the incredible complexity of the mother/daughter relationship over three generations. We see deep love, jealousy, protectiveness and anger. There are also many secrets, and the novel beautifully illustrates how we keep important secrets from our closest family members and how we are moved to disclose those secrets. There are men in the story as well – good, bad and lost in the issues of their own lives – but for me (although very well portrayed) they were more a supporting cast for the women. Pregnancy and babies play a role as well – as is only appropriate for a novel of generations of women! This was an extremely well done novel of the complexities and beauty of grandmother/mother/daughter relationships.

[Rachelle · Rating 3 out of 5]

Almost 4 stars.

I listened to the audiobook, and with alternating POVs, it got slightly confusing at times because a few of the names sounded similar (or were the same?). For example, Minh, the grandmother, was sometimes called Ann (perhaps spelled differently, i.e. Anh, in the paper version), which was her granddaughter’s name. I recommend reading over listening.

[Tracy Crawford · Rating 1 out of 5]

I couldn’t bring myself to read more than 175 pages of Banyon House, and that felt generous. These people are sad, their story is boring, and the pacing is glacial. So much navel gazing conversation and old resentments in all of them. Ugh.

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

(2.5)

Decent start but goes nowhere fast. Cliched and conventional—I feel like I’ve read this book too many times.

[Cathy · Rating 4 out of 5]

The story is told from the point of view of three Vietnamese American women – Minh, her daughter Hu’o’ng and Hu’o’ng’s daughter, Ann. Ann’s story is set in the present day but Hu’o’ng’s moves back and forth in time between her childhood in Vietnam and her life in America. Minh’s story is told through an unique perspective: from beyond the grave where she exists in a kind of limbo, able to observe Ann and Hu’o’ng’s grief at her death but also to relive memories of her early life in Vietnam before she was forced to flee to America because of the Vietnam War.

The mysterious, rambling and now rather dilapidated Banyan House has played an important part in all three women’s lives. For Minh it was a tangible sign of of her entrepreneurial spirit and determination to provide a secure home for her children. For Hu’o’ng and Ann it has acted at various times as a place of sanctuary. It has also witnessed dramatic events, as the reader will discover.

Minh’s death brings Ann and Hu’o’ng back to Banyan House after a period of estrangement. Initially, their grief is the only thing that seems to connect them. ‘We’re lost without her, our faithful interpreter.’ Gradually the author allows the reader to unpick the complex reasons for their estrangement – feelings of being abandoned, of being displaced or being misunderstood. The process of repairing their relationship is made up of tentative steps: small acts of kindness, unexpected discoveries, reassurance and ultimately a shared stake in the future.

All three women are believable characters, each having endured heartbreak and struggled with the realities of motherhood. None of them are infallible and all have made mistakes, saying things in anger or frustration that can’t be unsaid. What draws one into the story is seeing how they move on from this. I enjoyed Ann’s spiky, sarcastic humour, which you suspect is something of a protective carapace, and her growing determination to make an independent life for herself. Learning more of Hu’o’ng’s back story made me admire her strength, something obviously inherited from her mother who, even when dying, refused to go quietly. The author resists the temptation to make the male characters either wholly good or bad although some definitely tend more towards the latter.

There are subtle references to the prejudice faced by immigrants – for example, Ann being described as ‘exotic’ by her boyfriend’s mother and Hu’o’ng’s experiences on her honeymoon. It’s notable that, in contrast to other family members, Minh, Hu’o’ng and Ann nurture their Vietnamese heritage whether that’s through the food, religious practices or inherited stories of their culture.

Ann and Hu’o’ng’s quiet journey to reconciliation threatens to be derailed by Ann’s discovery of a secret that Minh has kept from her daughter. Should she tell Hu’o’ng, possibly tainting her memories of her mother or keep it to herself? As Minh warns from beyond the grave, secrets are a menace. ‘They will spill from your mouth like angry, writhing eels, or they will fill you up until you combust. There is no escaping them.’

I thoroughly enjoyed this absorbing multi-generational story about love, loss, motherhood and the healing of fractured family relationships. It’s an impressive debut.

[nina.reads.books · Rating 3 out of 5]

Banyan Moon by Thao Thai is a great example of a multigenerational family saga with a particular focus on a family with Vietnamese heritage living in Florida. This one focuses heavily on the complexities of mother daughter relationships which I always find to be fascinating to read about. Themes of motherhood, family dysfunction and the experience of immigrants through generations run through this debut novel.

Ann Tran has set herself up with a seemingly perfect life with a wealthy boyfriend and a successful career as an illustrator but one day her world is shaken when her mother Huong calls to tell her that her beloved grandmother Minh has died. At this moment she also discovers she is pregnant and that her relationship may not be so perfect after all. Ann heads home to Florida to the “Banyan House” where she lived for many years with Minh. Here she learns that Minh has left the Banyan House to her and Huong and as they sort through the house they must come to terms with their difficult history while also uncovering some deep family secrets.

The story is told in alternating chapters from both Ann and Huong with Huong sometimes remembering earlier times when she was newly married and Ann was a child. Running parallel is Minh’s story from when she was a teenager in Vietnam through to the present day as she watches on as Ann and Huong rebuild their relationship after her death.

I liked this book but it wasn’t an absolute knockout example of a family saga. For me all three women were quite hard to connect with at times due to the choices they made and the way they each reacted to situations. There was a harshness to much of the family’s history and not a lot of joy to be found until the end so it was a bit of a journey.

Nevertheless this was an enjoyable and easy read which didn’t necessarily tie everything up into a predictable bow at the end which was a nice change.

Thank you to @hachetteaus for my #gifted copy.

[Shannon · Rating 4 out of 5]

An incredibly moving story about three generations of Vietnamese-American women, their complicated mother-daughter relationships and the family secrets that bring them back together.

Told in alternating POVs, we get to know beloved matriarch, Minh and her life in 1960s Vietnam, and later America, as she tries to raise her children to have a better life than hers. We also get to know her daughter Huong and granddaughter Ann as they are reunited after Minh's death when they jointly inherit "The Banyan House" - Minh's rundown Florida home.

Spanning decades and continents, this was sweeping in scope and recommended for fans of Dust child by Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai or Daughters of the New Year by E. M. Tran. Great on audio too with narrators for each of the women's voices, including Cindy Kay - one of my favs. Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an early audio copy of this Read with Jenna July book club pick!