Named one of the most anticipated books of 2019 by Vulture, Entertainment Weekly, Buzzfeed, Los Angeles Times, Boston Globe, Oprah.com, Huffington Post, The A.V. Club, Nylon, The Week, The Rumpus, The Millions, The Guardian, Publishers Weekly, and more

Poet Ocean Vuong’s debut novel is a shattering portrait of a family, a first love, and the redemptive power of storytelling

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous is a letter from a son to a mother who cannot read. Written when the speaker, Little Dog, is in his late twenties, the letter unearths a family’s history that began before he was born — a history whose epicenter is rooted in Vietnam — and serves as a doorway into parts of his life his mother has never known, all of it leading to an unforgettable revelation. At once a witness to the fraught yet undeniable love between a single mother and her son, it is also a brutally honest exploration of race, class, and masculinity. Asking questions central to our American moment, immersed as we are in addiction, violence, and trauma, but undergirded by compassion and tenderness, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous is as much about the power of telling one’s own story as it is about the obliterating silence of not being heard.

With stunning urgency and grace, Ocean Vuong writes of people caught between disparate worlds, and asks how we heal and rescue one another without forsaking who we are. The question of how to survive, and how to make of it a kind of joy, powers the most important debut novel of many years.

Winner of the 2016 Whiting Award

One of Publishers Weekly's "Most Anticipated Books of Spring 2016"

One of Lit Hub's "10 must-read poetry collections for April"

“Reading Vuong is like watching a fish move: he manages the varied currents of English with muscled intuition. His poems are by turns graceful and wonderstruck. His lines are both long and short, his pose narrative and lyric, his diction formal and insouciant. From the outside, Vuong has fashioned a poetry of inclusion.”—The New Yorker

"Night Sky with Exit Wounds establishes Vuong as a fierce new talent to be reckoned with...This book is a masterpiece that captures, with elegance, the raw sorrows and joys of human existence."—Buzzfeed's "Most Exciting New Books of 2016"

"This original, sprightly wordsmith of tumbling pulsing phrases pushes poetry to a new level...A stunning introduction to a young poet who writes with both assurance and vulnerability. Visceral, tender and lyrical, fleet and agile, these poems unflinchingly face the legacies of violence and cultural displacement but they also assume a position of wonder before the world.”—2016 Whiting Award citation

"Night Sky with Exit Wounds is the kind of book that soon becomes worn with love. You will want to crease every page to come back to it, to underline every other line because each word resonates with power."—LitHub

"Vuong’s powerful voice explores passion, violence, history, identity—all with a tremendous humanity."—Slate

“In his impressive debut collection, Vuong, a 2014 Ruth Lilly fellow, writes beauty into—and culls from—individual, familial, and historical traumas. Vuong exists as both observer and observed throughout the book as he explores deeply personal themes such as poverty, depression, queer sexuality, domestic abuse, and the various forms of violence inflicted on his family during the Vietnam War. Poems float and strike in equal measure as the poet strives to transform pain into clarity. Managing this balance becomes the crux of the collection, as when he writes, ‘Your father is only your father/ until one of you forgets. Like how the spine/ won’t remember its wings/ no matter how many times our knees/ kiss the pavement.’”—Publishers Weekly

"What a treasure [Ocean Vuong] is to us. What a perfume he's crushed and rendered of his heart and soul. What a gift this book is."—Li-Young Lee

Torso of Air

Suppose you do change your life.
& the body is more than

a portion of night—sealed
with bruises. Suppose you woke

& found your shadow replaced
by a black wolf. The boy, beautiful

& gone. So you take the knife to the wall
instead. You carve & carve

until a coin of light appears
& you get to look in, at last,

on happiness. The eye
staring back from the other side—

waiting.

Born in Saigon, Vietnam, Ocean Vuong attended Brooklyn College.

Un joven que se descubre a sí mismo en su doble condición de inmigrante y homosexual. Un libro valiente y conmovedor. 

Un hijo le escribe una larga carta a su madre, que no sabe leer. La carta es en realidad un examen de conciencia, un repaso a los elementos clave que han ido conformando su identidad: como hijo de una familia de vietnamitas que huyeron de su país rumbo a Estados Unidos y como joven que descubre y asume su homosexualidad.

El entorno familiar del chico se compone de la abuela –ahora anciana y moribunda–, que tuvo que marcharse de Vietnam con sus hijas después de pasar por experiencias muy duras para sobrevivir acabada la guerra: se había casado con un militar estadounidense y años después del triunfo del Vietcong la familia fue evacuada a Filipinas, donde pasó un tiempo en un campo de refugiados, y desde allí emigró a América. Hay también un padre maltratador y ausente, que fue arrestado por agredir a su esposa. Y está la madre maltratada, que trabaja en un salón de manicura y mantiene una compleja relación con su hijo. Y, por último, el joven protagonista de esta historia, que creció en Hartford, Connecticut, sufrió acoso escolar por su doble marginalidad –como inmigrante y como homosexual– y descubrió siendo un adolescente el amor y la sexualidad con Trevor...

Un libro bellísimo y veraz, inspirado en las vivencias íntimas del autor, que combina momentos de extrema crudeza con otros de una belleza sutil y elusiva. Ocean Vuong nos deslumbra con esta primera novela en la que la literatura se convierte en una precisa y potente herramienta de evocación, descubrimiento y exploración para narrar el paso de la adolescencia a la madurez.

Un jove es descobreix a si mateix en la seva doble condició d’immigrant i homosexual. Un llibre valent i commovedor.

Un fill escriu una carta a la seva mare, que no sap llegir. La carta és, en realitat, un examen de consciència, un repàs dels elements que han anat formant la seva identitat: com a fill d’una família de vietnamites que van fugir del seu país cap als Estats Units i com a jove que descobreix i assumeix la seva homosexualitat.

La família del noi es compon de l’àvia –ara anciana i moribunda–, que va haver de marxar del Vietnam amb les seves filles després de passar per experiències molt dures per sobreviure acabada la guerra. Hi ha també un pare maltractador i absent. I hi ha la mare, una dona desorientada que treballa en un saló de manicura i manté una relació complexa amb el seu fill. I, finalment, el jove protagonista, que va créixer a Hartford, Connecticut, va patir assetjament escolar per la seva doble marginalitat –immigrant i homosexual– i va descobrir essent adolescent l’amor i la sexualitat amb en Trevor...

Un llibre bellíssim i veraç, inspirat en les vivències de l’autor, que combina moments d’una gran cruesa amb d’altres d’una tensió subtil i elusiva. Ocean Vuong ha escrit una primera novel·la en què la literatura es converteix en una precisa eina d’evocació, descobriment i exploració per narrar el pas de l’adolescència a la maduresa.