Buffalo Boy and Geronimo

by James Janko

The unique vision in Janko's Buffalo Boy and Geronimo is the depiction of the Vietnam War as seen through the lens of a wounded but resilient nature, as a Confucian society still rooted in the earth and the unbroken fabric of ancestors is pitted against a desensitized military high-tech culture. As critic Paul Pines noted, "The forces here that seek to conquer the landscape are those, which by implication, shatter the harmonious fabric of the natural world to create a pathology that is far deeper than the political stakes indicate—one that indeed may determine the future of the entire ecosphere." The two heroes of the book, Nguyen Luu Mong, the Vietnamese buffalo boy, and Antonio Lucio, the US Chicano medic (Geronimo), both have a deep respect for the natural world, and it is through their eyes that we witness the devastation of the natural world of which they are a part. Geronimo's unit is engaged in search and destroy missions, and he becomes appalled by the pain and death inflicted on animals and humans. Eventually, he deserts and finds his way back into the jungle. Meanwhile, the young adolescent Mong loses his beloved buffalo in an early firefight and eventually sees his entire village destroyed, the survivors relocating deeper into Viet Cong territory. 

261 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2006

Reviews

[Paul Peterson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Story of an American GI in the Vietnam War who goes AWOL. Told from his perspective, it avoids a lot of gruesome battle scenes but does include a couple of shocking references. The author sees from the eyes of natives trying to survive in a total war zone and the ex-GI sees more and more from their perspective. At the end, he makes his way off toward Cambodia after giving up any notion of returning to America, presumably to blend in and just live. I would LOVE to hear how things went from there!

"As his American platoon searched the village, he stood in a small cove and skipped stones in the river. After playing, he squatted, a brown-faced man, his elbows on his knees, his rifle propped against a log, and smiled at Hai and Great Joy. The boy flickered a smile - pure reflex - then scolded himself. This brown-faced demon had a rifle, he too was an invader. He might wish to kill the buffalo, taste its meat, strengthen his body. Hai petted Great Joy and advised him, 'Don't trust this man; don't trust his brothers.' Most Americans had a frenzied, hungry look as if they could devour every living thing and instantly crave more."

"The next morning, Hai found fresh meat in the shallows of the Sai Gon River. A great bird, an osprey, had drowned, and clutched in its talons a carp the length of Hai's leg. Newly dead, the yellow-brown eyes of the bird were iridescent. It must have dove fiercely, sunk its claws into flesh, and plummeted in darkness. Hai imagined the thrashing of wings, the desperate plunge of the fish. At first, the carp must have swum toward deep water, and later, as it was dying, it rose in the grip of the bird in an upswell of currents."

"The next morning, after visiting the graves of his father and his buffalo, he found several worms on a low branch of a 'sau' tree. He plucked the fattest ones, each worm about the size of a rich man's thumb, and lay them in a wooden box. His father had once shown him how to peel the flesh with a knife, then use his fingers to unravel the intestines."

"He referred to the day ghosts as 'the blind men in Cambodia. They do not even know how to walk on the land,' he said. 'They stumble over roots and vines, and fear every trace of shadow. They move from one place to another during the day because the night is their enemy.' He paused and lit a cigarette. 'You will not find one of them that remembers his dead, that honors his ancestors as we do. A human being who lives entirely for himself is a wandering ghost long before he dies."

"He wished Ma had a more handsome picture, a smiling one she could offer Miss Thien. The only picture of Hai was too serious, a mirror of his father. The bunched brow, squinched eyes, firm jaw - the face of a peasant."

"One girl, as she lifted a red flower near her eyes, surprised him with her beauty. She had come to withing ten meters of where he lay. She glided, made little noise, her eyes as bright and pure as her red flower. At first she seemed out of place, a hint of light in tree shade, a light that might still be seen in the middle of the night, no moon or stars for guidance. Conchola, remembering, muttered to himself, 'Mundo, el tigre.' He smelled peanuts and corn; his mouth watered. Guadalupe, he thought, life is simple. His own mother would be content to build a fire, cook food, make gardens, and search the dark for flowers."

[Beth · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wouldn't suggest that the author quit his day job. Janko's writing style was not a factor in my continuing to read this book. However, I was curious to learn about the war that so affected my teen/young adult world. I was close to oblivious as the war raged and so am very ignorant of most of its facets. Buffalo Boy gives a perspective of the war literally from the inside as it follows the lives of a Viet Namese peasant village as it parallelled the experience of a US soldier. While i wouldn't entusiastically encourage others to rush out and read it, I do recommend the book to anyone curious about the inside srory of ravaging of Viet Nam.
Why must we persist in war?!?!?

[Megan Klein · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great read on the effects of the Vietnam war, extending not only to the soldiers and civilians, but also the land of Viet Nam. James Janko is a featured author for our Book Reading with Swords to Plowshares on September 7th.

[Mona Randall · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good read. Great as a first novel. Keep up the good work.