Music through the Dark
Bree Lafreniere and Daran Kravanh
University of Hawaii Press, 2000
157 pp.
On average, one out of every four Cambodians died in the Killing Fields. The stories of
its survivors therefore often rival the legacy of its horrors. To make it out alive, one had
to evade execution, overcome disease, avert starvation, and not least, battle through one's
own overwhelming sense of despair. In Music through the Dark, author Bree Lafreniere
captures the voice of Daran Kravanh and his miraculous tale of survival against all these
obstacles.
The narration comes to life by detailing the nuances of the Cambodian tragedy rather than
over-dramatizing it. Daran tells us about growing up in Cambodia before Communism
and the everyday happenings of his large and musical family. Although his life is
relatively unremarkable, the everyday pleasures he experiences take on added
significance under the Khmer Rouge. Simply whistling the wrong tune can jeopardize
his life. The struggle for survival
in the Killing Fields also means one cannot dwell on even terrible tragedies such
as the death of friends and family. The flow of the story reflects the narrator's
necessity to push forward without diminishing his sense of pain and anguish. The
reader wishes to cry with Daran but also feels the need to push forward with him.
Daran believes it was music that enabled him to survive the terror of the Khmer Rouge
regime, and his story indeed unveils the divine power of music in the darkness of the
Killing Fields. The story is particularly well narrated and well written because it does not
simply caricaturize and demonize the Khmer Rouge, which would have been easy to do
given the narrator's heartbreaking story. Even amidst all the inhumanity, the reader is
given a glimpse of how the Khmer Rouge were, if anything, all-too-human. It was the
Khmer Rouge's primitive human instincts that enabled them to commit such heinous
crimes, and it is Daran's ability to tap into their more sublime human tendencies that
enables him to elude becoming another victim. Despite the Khmer Rouge's capacity for
extreme brutality, their appreciation for music renders them incapable of killing the
narrator - they cannot kill a person who creates for them such beautiful sounds.
Although Daran's ability to make music saves him from execution on numerous occasions, the
real magic of music is that it imbues the narrator with the inner strength to endure.
Music is his link to a happy past life beyond the misery of the present. The music infuses
Daran with the spirit of his family and reassures him of the existence of beauty even in a
world gone mad. The reader senses that without music Daran could have easily become
overwhelmed by sorrow and despair, but music helps him to displace his sorrow and cast
aside his despair. It gives him the strength to bear his miserable
existence and at times provides him with his only remaining reason to live. In the Killing
Fields, music gives Daran life by giving his life meaning.
The story ends with one final anecdote - that of a leg-less Khmer Rouge soldier who falls
off a train and begs for help from our narrator. Daran does not seek revenge upon the
man but rather shows him compassion by bringing him water. The soldier confesses to
Daran his sin of matricide and his deep regret. In the soldier's lament, we do not see his
brutality but his humanity. Dying, he is no longer an evil monster against whom we wish
to seek vengeance but, as with all Cambodians, has himself become a victim of the
Cambodian tragedy. His final request is: "Put some words on my grave. Say not to go to
war." We are not left with the desire to seek retribution, but rather a somber feeling of
compassion and pity. Here was a person who sacrificed his body and soul to the Khmer
Rouge, only to die filled with remorse and in the arms of a stranger. Although the
language and anecdote is simple, the reader is poignantly reminded that the tragedy of
war is such that even victors are often victims.
The narration in this book is neither especially sophisticated nor graphic, and therein lies
its virtue. It is artfully crafted and vivid, without being ostentatious or overly dramatic.
While the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge fill the pages of the book, there is remarkably
little sense of lingering anger or hatred in the narrator. Instead, Daran's love for
his family, his people, and his country shine through, which is in essence what
makes the tragedy that befell him and the Khmer people so truly tragic. In
trying to turn Cambodia into a utopian society, the Khmer Rouge destroyed a
beautiful country; and in the Killing Fields died some of the very people
who loved Cambodia most.
Reviewed by Sody Lay
Lecturer, Cambodian American Experience, UCLA
