#thomas dai

[smokefalls]

We all generate our own cartographies—spatial images documenting lost places, hidden byways, who we were at that time, that place.

Thomas Dai, "Map Page" from Take My Name But Say It Slow

[smokefalls]

I have always had trouble distinguishing biography from geography—the question of who I am always starts with a question of where. Maybe every life is just a string of settings through which one person proceeds. Or maybe a life is a set of places organized into a configuration that doesn’t adhere to a linear path: these places that encase you, these other places that fill you with hope. In these ways and others, lives look curiously like maps to me.

Thomas Dai, "Map Page" from Take My Name But Say It Slow

[smokefalls]

Consenting to love does not mean melding with your partner into gloopy oneness—love is neither telepathy nor fondue. But still, in love, the other person can’t be avoided, exited like a place, or negotiated into obeisance. A powerful decentering has begun to occur, so that even my language, my discourse, preserves pieces of you. I have become all too aware of your location, how proximate or distant it is from mine. I have begun, grudgingly, to participate in what Alain Badiou thinks love should be: two individuals trying to reconcile (but not necessarily solve) their disjoint experiences of the world. “You have Two,” Badiou writes. “Love involves Two.”

Thomas Dai, "Love on the Rocks" from Take My Name But Say It Slow

[smokefalls]

All I could think about was that moment in many Wong Kar-Wai films when a person in love will whisper something into a mud-filled hole in a wall, a knot in a tree, or a friend’s tape recorder. What words the lovers speak in these scenes are never divulged, and indeed do not matter. The point is that the lovers are speaking, and that we are seeing, but not fully comprehending, the act of expression as it takes shape.

Thomas Dai, "Love on the Rocks" from Take My Name But Say It Slow

[smokefalls]

Depending on the scenario, a name can be either a catalyst or a hindrance, a mark of pride or a lasting shame. Names are labels, little semantic handles we like to hold on to. But not every handle fits its door, and some knobs even fall off if not properly installed.

Thomas Dai, "Take My Name But Say It Slow" from Take My Name But Say It Slow

[smokefalls]

Travel took ordinary life and laminated it, imparting this formal feeling, this fantasy of a plot. I went somewhere. I came back.

Thomas Dai, "The Figure a Trip Makes" from Take My Name But Say It Slow

[oceanvuongs]

map page, take my name but say it slow — thomas dai

[smokefalls]

Title: Take My Name But Say It Slow Author: Thomas Dai Publication Year: 2025 Publisher: W.W. Norton Genre: nonfiction, essays, memoir, queer lit

I really enjoyed Thomas Dai’s debut book, which is part-memoir, part-essay collection, and even arguably part-travelogue. Dai reflects on his identity as a queer Chinese American from the American South (specifically Tennessee), which initially doesn’t seem all that different from many other Asian American memoirs. However, what I particularly liked about Dai’s approach was how he explored identity and tied it to space, not only in the geographic sense but also temporally and cartographically. I think what made this approach so successful was because Dai was able to connect these ideas together right down to his own Chinese name, Nuocheng, which is a portmanteau of two cities: Nuokeshiweier (aka Knoxville) and Chengdu. Furthermore, he reflects on what it means to not quite belong to any specific space/place that he could confidently return to and call his own, resulting in much of the writing expressing a kind of existential yearning.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say that Dai’s writing is inaccessible, but I do know that it won’t appeal to everyone. It’s very clear that he has an academic background with the way he references a multitude of thinkers and theorists ranging from Sara Ahmed to Roland Barthes. It all comes together really well to assert the points he’s making, but only if you have any familiarity with these references. This intellectual style compounded with his introspections makes it that a lot of what he’s trying to convey is a little harder to parse out and more abstract in nature. I quite liked the way Dai went about this stylized writing, though, and I felt it added significant depth to his insights into identity and belonging.

One critique I do have is that I wish he had engaged more with the photos that were woven into this collection. I was able to see the connections the photos had to each essay/chapter, but I also found myself thinking, “I’m not sure what more I’m supposed to get from these.” Overall, though, this was an illuminating read, and I really look forward to what Dai has planned next.

Content Warning: racism (including racial slurs); xenophobia; references to death, mass shootings, homophobia, drug use, and pandemic