Burg, Ann E. 2009. ALL THE BROKEN PIECES. New York: Scholastic Press. ISBN: 978054508927
Review:
Two years after being airlifted out of Vietnam, ten year old Matt Pin is desperately trying to recover from the ravages of war. Even with his new life with his "now" mother and father and "now" brother, Matt is haunted by the horrors he experienced during the Vietnam War.
With the encouragement of a Vietnam veteran support group his dad took him to, a love for the game of baseball, and his piano music, Matt, now in seventh grade, is adjusting to his new life.
Upon arriving in America, he attended adoption classes and meetings to learn to speak English. His new family has worked hard to keep his Vietnamese culture and traditions alive in him. But the Vietnam he hears about in class is not the Vietnam he remembers.
“I close my eyes./I listen./I try to remember the colors,/but I cannot./I try to form the dragons from dust, /but I cannot./I try again./But I cannot./ My Vietnam/is drenched/in smoke and fog./It has no parks/or playgrounds,/no classrooms/or teachers./It is not on any map/or in any book./ My Vietnam is/only/a pocketful/of broken pieces/I carry/inside me.” (pg.22-23) .
Baseball plays the catalyst for Matt's guilt and the stereotypes that haunt him. Matt misunderstands the reasons his mother had for giving him away and carries with him the guilt of his younger brother's horrific injuries. He is also tormented by teammates who seemingly blame him for the tragedies that occurred during the war.
In her verse novel, told in the first-person perspective, Ann Burg developed her characters with sparse language and raw emotions. Readers will experience the horrible effects of war not only on soldiers, but also on children, parents, and countrymen.
Highlighted Excerpt:
Pages 155 - 158
Matt was one of the older kids
airlifted out of Saigon,
Jeff says.
He's reading a sentence at a time
and then looking up.
He was almost ten, but he looked six.
He was born during the war.
His whole life was the war.
He's got an American father
who left and never came back.
He's got a mother who
entrusted him to us
even though his father,
an American soldier,
ran out on her.
She gave her child to a bunch
of American soldiers...
Jeff emphasizes the first syllable
in soldiers
as if it were souldiers,
... so we must have done
something good.
Americans who've never
been to Vietnam
don't understand.
They spit at us.
They call us baby killers.
But we can't have been all bad,
or what mother
would have given us her child,
knowing she might never
see him again?
What kind of faith is that?
What kind of love?
Love?
I thought she wanted
me to leave because of
who I was and what
I'd done.
But did she mean it
when she said she loved me?
Did he mean it
when he said he loved her?
Was it hard for her to
push me away?
Does she ever wonder
about me
like I wonder
about her
and about him?
Does she remember me?
Jeff's words rush through me,
my heart pounds, and
a red hotness spreads
across my face.
I hadn't ever thought
she gave me away
because she loved me.
We lost a big piece
of ourselves in Vietnam,
and none of us will
ever be the same,
but we did some good too.
We made a difference.
Don't let anybody tell you
different.
Jeff looks at everyone in the circle
one by one,
holding their eyes with his eyes
before turning away.
Next time someone stares at you
like you're a freak
because you went to Vietnam,
think about Matt,
and there are hundreds like him,
hundreds of kids we saved.
Possible Uses:
Teachers could use this book in conjunction with a lesson on the Vietnam War. This particular excerpt could be used to introduce students to the Vietnam War and the prejudices faced by the returning soldiers and Vietnamese people.
While this book covers the Vietnam War, the lessons of this book would hold true with any discussion of prejudice or the effects of war.
