The Appointment of Awakening

QTO - 1. Concluding "The Magnificent Rendezvous in a Land Without Me" (Hoang Vu Thuat's poetry through Zen aesthetics) - a treatise by Nguyen Thanh Huong, Vietnam Writers Association Publishing House, 2026 - the reader feels as if they have just stepped through a multi-layered meditation garden. Not a superficial overwhelming sensation, but a feeling of purity: There is the scent of fresh grass, the late morning dew, the sound of wind rustling through thin leaves; and somewhere, beneath the layer of silence, threads of spiritual light are flowing towards them.

Without grand pronouncements or pretentious displays, the book resonates through the very calmness, wisdom, and serenity of the author—a person who has spent many years living with words, breathing with words, and hearing their echoes.

And like any spiritual journey, this treatise not only sheds light on Hoang Vu Thuat's poetry but also changes the way we approach language. We slow down. We look deeper. We allow ourselves to be more fully immersed in the tranquil light that Nguyen Thanh Huong has subtly revealed.

The collection "A Magnificent Rendezvous in a Land Without Me" (poetry by Hoang Vu Thuat through Zen-Tranquility aesthetics) by author Nguyen Thanh Huong - Photo: H.D.K

2. There are two types of criticism: conquering criticism, which views the text as a battlefield and uses theory as its weapon; and empathetic criticism, which relies on listening as its foundation. Nguyen Thanh Huong belongs to the second type.

This listening is not passive, but a state of conscious awareness: perceiving the subtle movements in the text, the delicate temperature changes in the words, the spaces that hold more than just meaning. In Hoang Vu Thuat's poetry, where a single word can stand alone in a line, where a comma can create a new atmosphere, where a streak of light can open up an entire spiritual dimension, the reader who knows how to listen is the only one who can comprehend the second depth of the word.

And Nguyen Thanh Huong accomplished this with the aesthetic intuition of a scientist who knew how to maintain his clarity of mind and self-control.

3. Hoang Vu Thuat is a poet of pure and delicate movements, like mist. In his work, there are no loud pronouncements, grand conclusions, or extreme emotions. But it is precisely this restraint, this naturalness like breath, that gives his poetry a profound energy. Like a clear body of water: the more you look, the more you see, and what you see is not just the scene beneath the water, but also your own reflection.

Nguyen Thanh Huong's treatise leads us to a new perspective: Hoang Vu Thuat is not only a unique voice in modern Vietnamese poetry, but also a poet at the boundary between the tangible and the intangible. His poetry is where the smallest things—a shadow, a wisp of smoke, a bird's song, a raindrop—all carry the philosophical weight of an existence that has undergone a process of perception and contemplation.

In that interpretation, the poet Hoang Vu Thuat appears not as someone attempting a "grand narrative," but as someone who lets the great (if any) speak for itself. Nguyen Thanh Huong keenly perceived this, like a particularly discerning confidant.

4. One of the most beautiful moments of the treatise is when it abstracts how the subjective self dissolves into egolessness in Hoang Vu Thuat's poetry. This disintegration is not a crisis. It is the falling of ripeness, the melting of dew, the opening of a bud, the transformation of light.

Some poems begin with a very clear sense of self: feeling, remembering, longing, sadness… But after a while, that self fades, becomes diluted, and opens up to another space, where the subject is no longer the center, where the world speaks through its own laws of operation.

Nguyen Thanh Huong realized this not through pre-existing, general philosophies or dry, trendy theories, but by studying poetics—that is, by deeply reading the text and working with it.

It is the "dissolution" of the poet's subject once he has reached the very depths of his overflowing self. And in turn, this "dissolution" encounters the perspective of a critic who, though somewhat "outsider" to literature, always lives with words and breathes with meditation and tranquility.

5. In many beautifully written pages of the treatise, light appears as a subject. It doesn't just illuminate the scene. It speaks. It transforms. It guides the reader from one place to another.

Nguyen Thanh Huong points out that the light in Hoang Vu Thuat's poetry is not physical light, but spiritual light: a part of perception, a part of inner openness. The verses where light "flows over the cup," "pours onto my shoulders," "lifts my life" are no longer descriptions, but have become forms of momentary enlightenment.

Through Hoàng Vũ Thuật's analysis of light as a second being, the book suggests that the poet did not write to beautify the world, but to open it up, to place the reader in the luminous realm of a new, gentler, and deeper perception.

6. Hoang Vu Thuat's sadness is unique: Sad, but not withdrawn or burdensome. Like a wisp of cloud unwilling to get stuck, it drifts leisurely over the mountaintop.

Nguyen Thanh Huong recognized this, and encapsulated it in a clear, rational tone: The sadness in Hoang Vu Thuat's poetry is the inevitable sadness of humanity, especially of "the poet species." It's impossible to eliminate sadness, so the only feasible solution is to live with it and illuminate it with the light of wisdom.

Hoang Vu Thuat's poems contain lines that touch upon the emptiness and meaninglessness of life. But instead of instilling negative energy in the reader, these verses have the ability to inspire them to live, bringing them a sense of serenity and peace.

7. Nguyen Thanh Huong's book proposes and creates a way of reading: Reading is a silent dialogue, allowing one to hear the echoes of each word; the reader is a treasure trove, with all doors wide open. Only by opening one's heart and mind can one have miraculous encounters.

We read poetry, but at the same time, we read ourselves. We read in a state of stillness, to hear even the wordless spaces, to go beyond the text itself.

In that state, Hoang Vu Thuat's poetry becomes a guide. And the essayist becomes a small lamp with a low wick placed behind our shoulder, bright enough so we don't get lost, but light enough so we can still walk with our own minds.

8. The book closes, but it opens up within us a thin layer of light, a region easily overlooked by the rhythm of daily life. That light comes from poetic talent and from a critical heart.

Nguyen Thanh Huong not only writes about Zen aesthetics, but also practices that very aesthetics in criticism. He places himself in a state of mindfulness to read poetry, thereby presenting a unique academic style: Zen criticism. It is a reading style centered on stillness, using listening as a method, where the critic obscures themselves so that the object reveals its true nature.

The magnificent rendezvous in a land without me, ultimately, is a rendezvous that each of us must make for ourselves—a rendezvous with awakening, with the purest and most authentic part of ourselves.

Hoang Dang Khoa

Source: https://baoquangtri.vn/van-hoa/202604/cuoc-hen-cua-tinh-thuc-8ff349d/