In 1973, FitzGerald won the Pulitzer Prize for "Fire in the Lake," her revelatory inquiry into the Vietnam War. Today, a quarter-century after the American withdrawal, she has a gentler story to tell, of a Communist country where people burn paper cell phones as offerings to their ancestors. In counterpoint to the memory of American helicopters lifting away from Saigon, Cross's richly hued photographs detail rural life in the once inaccessible villages of the north. Here tradition and modernity cheerfully collide: snakes curl in a bottle of rice alcohol slowly pickling into wine, while elsewhere a smeary-eyed Asian woman on a giant red billboard coos over her Coca-Cola. This collection returns us to a place of historical reckoning, and, in its careful observations of the land and the people, it documents the daily miracle of continuing.
Copyright © 2005
The New Yorker
Veteran Vietnam correspondent FitzGerald and well-traveled photojournalist Mary Cross explored Vietnam together in the spring of 2000, each using their craft to document the experience. "What struck me, after my long absence," writes FitzGerald, "was not so much how the country had changed but the extent to which it had returned to itself." Accordingly, for a readership that likely has seen only wartime images of Vietnam, she revisits a great deal of the country's history as she explores geography, society, and religion in a half-dozen essays. These informative, stimulating passages draw a picture, and Cross' photos snap it into color, as she eschews landscape and architecture to focus on Vietnam's people and their way of life. The
National Geographic-style compositions bring us fairly close to her subjects but have a reserve or formality that slows their pulse. Still, though there is no formal connection between the text and images, they work well together, providing a unique portrait of this complex land, one that is "going back to tradition and forward at the same time."
Keir GraffCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved