Anna Moi has to date released eight short story collections and three novels. Her book Le Venin du Papillon (The Butterfly Venom), published by Gallimard in 2017 and translated by the Trẻ Publisher in 2024, won the Littérature-Monde Prize. Her latest novel, Twelve Castles of Memory, was published in 2021. She was also honoured by the French government with the title of Knight of Arts and Letters. Inner Sanctum talks with the author about the book and her literary career.

Writer Anna Moi. Photo baoquangnam.vn

Inner Sanctum: Why did you choose the name Anna Moi?

I have always felt a deep connection to the highland people. As a child, I accompanied my father on work trips to ethnic minority communities, especially in Kon Tum and Pleiku [in the Central Highlands]. My mother used to call me Mọi — an affectionate nickname for a little girl.

In 1961, when I was about six, I played with ethnic children and was fascinated by their stilt houses. Years later, while living in Việt Nam, I rented land on the Thanh Đa peninsula in HCM City and built three thatched stilt houses. Even now, when I visit, I love travelling to the mountains and staying in stilt houses. Childhood memories, like scars, remain imprinted in the soul. To me, the life of mountain people is not so different from mine as an artist, often in solitude. The name Anna Moi represents my small self and serves as a connection to those communities.

Anna Moi (left) with a feather duster bought from Việt Nam. Photo phunuonline.com.vn

Inner Sanctum: Did your parents influence your artistic path?

My mother, Lê Thị Mão, along with her younger sister Lê Thị Tuất and brother-in-law Vĩnh Bang, founded Việt Nam’s first kindergarten—Bách Thảo Kindergarten—near Hà Nội’s Botanical Gardens in 1945.

At that time, following the Hiroshima bombing, the Japanese army withdrew from Việt Nam. My family rented a villa from a wealthy benefactor, who allowed us to use the house rent-free to open the kindergarten. He even let us repurpose wooden crates left behind by Japanese soldiers to make furniture for the school.

The school followed Jean Piaget’s educational philosophy, emphasising cognitive development through music, clay modelling, painting, and dance. My uncle, Vĩnh Bang, was the first to apply Piaget’s teachings, and I grew up in that environment.

Later, I studied piano under Cúc Xuân, a renowned lecturer at the National Conservatory of Music. Besides piano, I also convinced my mother to let me study painting. Even now, if I weren’t a writer, I would still be painting and sculpting. My family laid the foundation for my intellectual and creative development.

Inner Sanctum: How did you embark on your literary career?

In 1972, while studying at the Marie Curie High School in Sài Gòn [now Hồ Chí Minh City], I discovered a poetry contest in Seventeen magazine, a US teen publication. I submitted a poem in English about human emotions before the sea. It was published, and I received a US$20 honorarium. That moment planted the seed of my literary aspirations.

In 1973, I moved to France on a scholarship. Initially, I chose to major in history, believing a strong historical foundation would support my writing. However, I later switched to fashion design at L'École de la Chambre Syndicale and eventually opened a boutique in Paris.

In 1992, my husband, a French economist, was assigned to Việt Nam to work with an investment consulting firm. Later, he became director of the CFVG management training centre, which still operates in Hà Nội and HCM City. I followed him, and we lived in Việt Nam for nearly two decades.

Even as we travelled across different countries before returning to France, I kept writing in secret, mailing manuscripts to publishers. My first two short story collections were immediately accepted by Les Editions de l’Aube.

For my debut novel, Riz Noir, I submitted manuscripts to six major publishers. Two declined, and two offered to buy the rights. Instead of choosing the highest bidder, I signed with Gallimard—the prestigious publishing house of literary giants like Marcel Proust and Nobel laureate J.M.G. Le Clézio.

Inner Sanctum: How do you engage with the French literary scene? Do you read Vietnamese authors?

When my books are published, I take part in major literary festivals like the Paris Book Fair and the Etonnants Voyageurs Festival. I also appear on literary programmes such as L’humeur vagabonde on France Inter.

As for Vietnamese literature, I deeply admire Nguyễn Huy Thiệp’s writing. His depiction of rural life is both metaphorical and strikingly realistic.

Inner Sanctum: Your novel 'Le Venin du Papillon' won the Littérature-Monde Prize. A jury member remarked, "The key element is how the author takes us into the life of a young girl exploring her sexuality." Could you elaborate?

This novel draws from my own memories of 1972-1973. It explores adolescence and violence through Xuân’s story, a teenage girl caught in post-colonial Việt Nam amid the escalating American war. Despite the turmoil, she navigates love and friendship as any teenager would, indifferent to the world’s chaos.

For me, literature—and life itself—is the ultimate expression of freedom.

Anna Moi's novel 'Le Venin du Papillon'. Photo baoquangnam.vn

Inner Sanctum: You once said writing a novel’s first sentence could take a year.

Yes. I rewrite the first sentence endlessly until I find my unique voice. When I have free time, I don’t write—I paint and sculpt instead. Writing, for me, is a long journey, and finishing a book feels like a transcendental experience.

Inner Sanctum: Can you tell us a little about your family?

I have three sons: Stan (Nam), Leon-Paul (Kha), and Louis (Hồng Hà). When we moved to Việt Nam in 1992, Hồng Hà was just a month old. They attended the French school in HCM City before continuing their studies in Paris.

Nam now runs a culinary business, Kha works in urban design in Hà Nội, and Hồng Hà studies filmmaking.

My husband, Laurent Schwab, holds a PhD in economics from Sorbonne. We met in Tokyo and married young. Though we separated in 2001, we reunited a decade later and fell in love all over again. In 2014, we remarried in Paris. Today, we live happily together, with Laurent considering Việt Nam his second home.

Inner Sanctum: Do you follow contemporary Vietnamese society?

Since I return frequently, I’m not shocked by Việt Nam’s rapid changes. What surprises me most is the youth—they live by their ideals, unburdened by the scars of war.

Inner Sanctum: You also teach creative writing?

Yes, but casually. I mentor a small group—four or five French professionals, including a mathematics professor and a museum curator. Writing isn’t about making money; it’s about passion.

Inner Sanctum: Which place in Việt Nam holds the deepest imprint on you?

Everywhere has its own significance, but Hội An remains my favourite. It has rivers, the sea, and charming little streets. I love cycling through town, enjoying solitude, and doing what I love. Those were some of my happiest moments. VNS