Duality in The Sympathizer

In his novel, The Sympathizer, Nguyen establishes duality as a driving theme from the very beginning. The first sentence of the novel states, “I am a spy, a sleeper, a spook, a man of two faces. Perhaps not surprisingly, I am also a man of two minds” (p.1). This introductory statement expands the meaning of the book’s title, The Sympathizer, as it establishes the narrator’s character as someone who identifies with all sides of a given issue. As the plot deepens and readers become more familiar with this character, they learn that he is nameless. Through this anonymity, Nguyen presents a duality of sorts in allowing his main character to identify with - and therefore relate to - everyone. This is further developed when the narrator reveals his ongoing struggle in understanding his ethnic identity, saying, “my weakness for sympathizing with others has much to do with my status as a bastard” (p.36).  When the Department Chair asks the narrator to categorize his main personality traits into two lists, Oriental and Occidental (p.64), this ethnic crisis is called into question yet again.

Beyond characterizing his narrator, Nguyen uses the reoccurring theme of duality to highlight the perspective of paradox seen throughout the storyline. For example, on the night of the crapulent major’s murder, Claude and the narrator question the concept of innocence as it relates to their morality and conscience. Although the narrator is unsatisfied with his reasoning, Claude explains, “Innocence and guilt. These are cosmic issues. We’re all innocent on one level and guilty on another. Isn’t that what Original Sin is all about?” (p.103). Towards the end of the book, another duality of truth is revealed to the narrator amidst his torture. He recounts it desperately, saying, “How could I forget that every truth meant at least two things….the paradoxical fact that nothing is, indeed, something” (p.371). This paradoxical revelation is juxtaposed within the overlying scene of the narrator’s newly changed understanding of his relationship with Man, his blood brother. Furthermore, it is around this time that the narrator begins to refer to himself as the collective ‘we’ of two persons. Although this may be an effect of madness brought on by his torture, it may also be the result of the constant duality the narrator has faced his whole life. Finally breaking down and seeing himself as a man of two different faces circles the story back to the opening sentence in a new way.

However, the most all-encompassing statement of duality lies in Nguyen’s work overall. His novel, along with the characters and paradoxes within, calls to light the duality of the way in which the Vietnam war is portrayed and remembered. This stands in stark contrast with the American perspectives shown in films such as Apocalypse Now and The Hamlet. Nguyen explains this in Nothing Ever Dies with yet one last duality, claiming, “Haunted and haunting, human and inhuman, war remains with us and in us, impossible to forget but difficult to remember” (p.19).