Hello.
Spoilers.
I recently read "Randy Travis" by Souvankham Thammavongsa for my Asian-Americsan Lit. class. I didn't think much of it at first, but I thought about it some more and here are my thoughts.
While it's easy to focus on the major themes like assimilation or the dangers of parasocial relationships, what really stuck with me was the quiet and heartbreaking romance that was carefully folded into the story. It was the kind that wasn't romantic in the traditional way – like my favorite, Pride & Prejudice (2005) (eek!) – but in the way that real life often is, especially for Asian families. The father's unspoken devotion to the mother, his failed attempts to win back a part of her that was clearly slipping away, and his silence in place of flowery words of love – it feels painfully familiar. That kind of understated and pitiful love is rarely given the attention it deserves, and this story captured it in a way that that tugged at the heartstrings.
There's this one moment near the end where the father reaches for her hand after a Randy Travis concert, but she moves without noticing, and he just puts his hands in his pockets and looks at the ground. That small and pathetic gesture, done in complete silence, says everything about his character and his feelings. He's trying, but he doesn't know how, and I feel like that's common amongst Asian immigrant families where affection isn't openly expressed. Love looks more like stubbornness or sacrifice rather than words or grand gestures. The father doesn't say 'I love you,' but he works nonstop, he buys the record player, he wears the cowboy boots, he rents a car and drives them to a concert, he waits up for the mother even knowing she's gambling at the casino, and later in life, he even learns how to sing the songs she used to love, even persevering despite his first attempt being an utter fail. It's not enough – and I doubt it ever could be – but let it be known that he tried his best.
Last thing, but there's also something incredibly honest about how the story portrays disappointment. It's not written in a dramatic way, but a slow and quiet erosion of familiarity. The mother goes from sending Randy Travis letters to sleeping in her car at the casino, as a result of her gambling addiction. The narrator and father both watch the mother drift away and dies, as if it was an inevitable thing. The grief in this story is present in every part of it, which is what makes it hit so hard. It also shows you what happens when love is real but seems impossible to express, when longing gets misdirected... and when trying to adapt to a new life means losing parts of your old one, including the people. Even though this was quite a depressing tale, I appreciate the feelings that were evoked within me. Turns out I'm not totally a stone!
Best,
Portisnape
Edit: Actually Pride & Prejudice captured that unspoken devotion really well, but Mr. Darcy is pretty eloquent so that's where these two romances differ... not that "Randy Travis" is a romance LMAO.