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BOOKS I READ: Fragrant Palm Leaves: Journals 1962-1966 by Thich Nhat Hanh (1966), translated by Mobi Warren (1998). Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk, recalls the promise of the monastery he helped build in the highlands of central Vietnam. Phuong Boi is the name of that sanctuary and the title of the book in Vietnamese. Nhat Hanh wrote the first part of the journal while he was traveling, lecturing at U.S. universities. The second part are entries from Vietnam, as the war, like ink spilling over a map of his beloved Vietnam, isolates Phuong Boi, leaving it abandoned and in disrepair.
I picked up Nhat Hanh’s book while doing research for an essay I was developing. The journal entries are reflective and deliberate, nourishment for the soul. I especially enjoyed his entries describing a quiet Christmas season at Princeton while everyone is away, and his experience living in New York City, on West 109th Street. There was one moment from the August 20, 1962 entry —two years before the Gulf of Tonkin incident broadened the war —that touched me so hard that I had to put the book down. Nhat Hanh wouldn’t have known how prescient his friend’s words would be.
"Ly gave me a book as a parting gift, which I only opened upon arriving at Princeton. On the last page were two lines in his handwriting: On the day you return, if the sky is torn asunder,
Look for me in the depths of your heart."
Previous book from the reading log (or check out a list of all my recent reads):
