ALL THAT'S LEFT UNSAID

In a Vietnamese immigrant community in Sydney, Australia, a woman investigates her teenage brother's murder.

The troubles in 1990s Cabramatta are many. The North and South Vietnamese people who came to the area as refugees after the war are deeply marked by the horrors they experienced, and they are inflicting their damage on the first-generation Australians who are their children. Lien's debut communicates the specific operation of generational trauma with nuance and insight. The psychological predicament of the families she writes about is exacerbated by Cabramatta's heroin epidemic and institutionalized anti-Asian racism among the "blondies" of White Australia. Between these two factors, when 17-year-old Denny Tran is beaten to death after Cabramatta High School's senior formal, the police show little interest in finding the murderer. Denny must have been a junkie or in a gang, they assume. And since everyone who was at the popular banquet hall where it happened, including the boy's best friends and one of his teachers, claims to have been in the bathroom and seen nothing, there's no reason for them to think otherwise. His older sister, Ky, returns from her newspaper job in Melbourne to attend the funeral and ends up staying on in shock and outrage to find the truth of what happened. Her brother was no junkie or gang member: A sweet, kind, funny, almost perfect boy, he died with the "Most Likely To Succeed" award he had just won in his pocket. Her investigation will take her back into her and her brother's shared past, particularly her friendship with Minh Le—Minnie—who long ago went from beloved best friend to stranger. If Lien goes a bit too far in carrying out the mission of the book's title, giving more emotional accounting and exposition in dialogue than is ideal, this book is nonetheless memorable and powerful.

A fictional tragedy evoked with such clarity and specificity that it will linger in your memory as if it really happened.