Fiction – paperback; Text Publishing; 256 pages; 2019.
Joey Bui’s Lucky Ticket is a collection of short stories recently shortlisted for the Readings Prize for New Australian Fiction 2020, which is why I read it.
A Vietnamese-Australia writer, Bui comes to these stories with an eye for the outsider. Her fiction tends to champion the underdog or the unseen.
In the title story, for instance, we meet a disabled old man — a former foot soldier in the Cambodian War — who sells lottery tickets on a street corner in Sàigòn. He walks around on his knuckles (because he doesn’t have legs), smiling and laughing all day — “That’s a big part of my job” — hoping that people will buy a ticket from him with little to no persuasion.
When a lady buys a ticket from him and hands it over, wishing him good luck, he’s convinced the ticket is a lucky one. He does everything he can to hold onto that ticket, but as he traverses the city, doing business, meeting friends, enjoying drinks, he accidentally resells it — but instead of feeling sorry for himself, he recalls all his “good fortune” in a life that to anyone else would look anything but.
In another story, “Abu Dhabi Gently”, we meet a migrant worker who leaves Zanzibar in a bid to make enough money to provide his wife with a better standard of living. But life in the UAE is a struggle. He gets caught in an infinite loop of red tape that prevents the reimbursement of his recruitment fee — a staggering $US980 — so that he has to work long hours in a university cafeteria to repay back what he has already paid. His passport is held as a form of security, preventing him from returning home.
Meanwhile, he struggles to make friends — “There weren’t many Africans working at the university. Most of the other workers were Filipinos and Indians” — and becomes very lonely. Contact with his wife and his sisters in Zanzibar becomes repetitive and lacks meaning because they don’t understand what he is going through and he isn’t confident enough to tell them the truth. It’s a melancholy story, but one that ends on a hopeful note.
In fact, most of the stories in this collection trade on the idea that life is messy and complicated, that relationships can become strained, that racial identity, gender and socio-economic background can amplify pain, and yet this diverse range of tales and voices is not depressing. Every story ends on a relatively positive note — even if it is just a character coming to terms with their circumstances.
Earlier this year Lucky Ticket was longlisted for the Stella Prize, shortlisted for the UTS Glenda Adams Award for New Writing at the 2020 NSW Premier’s Literary Awards, and won the University of Southern Queensland Steele Rudd Award for a Short Story Collection at the 2020 Queensland Literary Awards. It’s an enlightening collection full of memorable characters and written in a straightforward, forthright prose style. I am hoping this talented writer tackles a novel next; I’d love to read it.
This is my 4th book for #2020ReadingsPrize for New Australian Fiction and my 19th book for #AWW2020.
13 thoughts on “‘Lucky Ticket’ by Joey Bui”
Thanks for this, Kim, I’ve linked to it from my post about the prize.
Thanks, Lisa. I’m really enjoying reading the books on this shortlist. The judges are going to have a very hard time determining the winner.
I’ve been tempted by this book kimbofo … I love short stories, and to read one with characters from other cultures is very appealing. I wish I weren’t quite so overloaded now.
Overloaded with other books? If so, I share your pain. Too many titles, not enough time.
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Yes, and with life responsibilities. The combination is wearing me down. So much I want to read.
Sorry to hear that. Life can be complicated at times.
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It can, but we get through it, don’t we?!
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I don’t love short stories and I’m wary of books where the author’s pov varies so much from her own (which was also my criticism of Nam Le’s The Boat). That said, I wonder – re the old soldier – at what point we stop saying ‘Ok, I’ll make the best of what I have’. I’ve never regretted not being rich but I wonder at what point I’d say, this is a level of poverty or discomfort that I just can’t bear.
If you’d ever consider submitting some of your work for publication, Dixie State University has an online literary journal and is currently open for submissions.
We are in dire need of fiction and nonfiction submissions like this. We also accept memoirs, audio recordings, visual art, book reviews, multimedia (video/audio), photography, etc. You can check us out at R7Review.com. The deadline to submit this year is November 6th.