RaveThe Los Angeles Review of BooksBeauty has come to be expected of Monique Truong’s prose, words brimming and vibrant, her evocative expressions and thoughtful sequencing in storytelling remarkable. But there is also substance in Truong’s writing, a pursuit of recovering voices erased from history — stories that cannot be told and that are at times overwritten ... The novel...is nothing less than an exciting new development in [Truong\'s] writing career ... Truong’s figures are more like voices that gradually coalesce, as they all on one level address one person: Patricio, Pat, Yakumo are all referred to as \'you.\' Collectively, the stories merge to create a critical perspective to be shored up against nonfiction prose ... The Sweetest Fruits gives readers permission to read historical accounts against the grain, and teaches us how ... The...refuses to participate in singularly protecting the mythical stature of Lafcadio Hearn. What happens when the frame is shifted, the central hero now an empty center? The answer might be disappointment, incomprehension, or premature dismissiveness. The novel is not meant for that reader. For anyone whose life feels overshadowed by a more powerful figure, or even just not centered at any point in life for reasons beyond one’s control, reading the novel can be a vindicating experience ... The historical novel is a kind of time traveling vehicle/vessel. We, the readers, are the time travelers, who have returned from 1909, and in that moment of return, with our fresh eyes, we see the present anew. We question it anew. We engage with it analytically anew. We respond to it emotionally anew.
