The Sympathizer: Chapter 6 Summary & Analysis

At the grand opening of the liquor store, the General shakes hands with well-wishers, chatting and smiling non-stop. Thirty old colleagues, followers, soldiers, and friends are also in attendance. The narrator hasn’t seen these men since they were in the refugee camps on Guam. He mingles with “these vanquished soldiers” and reports their gossip to the Parisian aunt. They all have humble jobs now—managing a pizza parlor, working as janitors, short-order cooks, mechanics, and delivery people. Their children, “afflicted” by the West, talk back to them, and their wives have been forced to work.

The narrator commiserates with the crapulent major about how unhappy he is in Los Angeles. When the narrator suggests moving, the major balks. He doesn’t know what he’d do for food; the best Chinese restaurants are in his neighborhood. The narrator asks if the major can show him where the good Chinese food is. The major delightedly agrees. The narrator feels guilty for accusing such a harmless man. The narrator makes his way back to the General, who’s standing by Madame. He’s being interviewed by a man that the narrator doesn’t recognize at first. It’s Son Do, or Sonny, as he’s nicknamed.

The narrator last saw Sonny in 1969, during the narrator’s final year in the U.S. They shake hands. Madame tells the narrator that Sonny is interviewing them for his newspaper. Sonny offers the narrator his business card. While offering Sonny a bottle of Chardonnay, the General recalls how journalists in Vietnam were given “the gift of free room and board, albeit in jail, for speaking a little too much truth to power.” The narrator takes a picture of Sonny, with the General and Madame flanking him.

The crapulent major currently works as a gas station attendant in Monterey Park, while his wife sews in a sweatshop. When they’re together, she nags him about being in California, where they are poorer than they were before. However, he has good news: his wife got pregnant with twins while they were at the refugee camp. He’s happy that they’re American citizens. Their American names are Spinach and Broccoli, in honor of Popeye and a woman on television who always reminded people to eat their broccoli. The names are assurances that the twins will be strong and healthy so that they can survive in America. The major mentions that he needs to go on a diet. He works at the gas station from ten in the morning and leaves at eight. He works seven days per week and can walk to work from his house. He finds the job easy and likes it. He offers to give the narrator some free gas in exchange for helping him escape Vietnam.

The narrator goes home and watches Bon clean and oil the .38 Special. They watch Dr. Richard Hedd being interviewed on television about Cambodia. The narrator asks, what if the major isn’t a spy? If they kill the wrong man, it’s murder. Bon sips his beer and says that the General knows things they don’t. Also, it isn’t a killing; it’s a wartime assassination. Sometimes, innocent people get killed in wars. Bon says that it’s only murder if you know they’re innocent. Even then, it’s a tragedy, not a crime.

The narrator asks Bon if he was happy when the General charged him with this task. Bon picks up the .38, which looks natural in his hand. He insists that a man needs purpose. Before he fell in love with Linh, he wanted revenge for his father’s murder at the hands of Communists. Then, Linh became more important and he didn’t get revenge. He didn’t get over his feeling of betraying his father until Duc was born. His sense of wonder over his son made Bon think that his father must have felt the same way about him. His life seemed insignificant in relation to Duc’s. With his son gone, Bon feels no sense of purpose. He feels like a nobody, and the only way not to be a nobody is either to kill himself or someone else. Bon asks if the narrator understands.

The narrator understands, and he’s stunned; it’s the longest speech he’s ever heard from Bon—the only man the narrator has ever met who is equally moved by both love and the prospect of killing. The narrator wants to persuade the General that the crapulent major isn’t a spy, but he knows it’s too late. The only thing left for the narrator to do is to create a plausible story about how the major’s death is neither his fault nor the General’s. It would be a typical American tragedy, starring “a hapless refugee.”

The next Saturday night, the narrator goes to dinner at the home of Professor Hammer and his boyfriend, Stan. Over dinner, they talk about bebop, the nineteenth-century novel, the Dodgers, and America’s upcoming bicentennial. Professor Hammer recalls the narrator’s senior thesis on Graham Greene’s novel The Quiet American and thinks it’s the best undergraduate thesis he’s ever read. The narrator smiles demurely and says thanks. Claude snorts, saying that he never cared for the book. He finds the Vietnamese girl in it implausible. The character is quiet, servile, and meek, while the Vietnamese women in his experience are anything but.

The narrator and Claude leave Professor Hammer’s house near midnight and smoke farewell cigarettes on the sidewalk. The narrator discusses his feelings of guilt about the impending murder of the crapulent major. Claude insists that the major probably has some blood on his hands. Everyone is innocent on one level and guilty on another. That’s the nature of Original Sin.

The next evening, the narrator scouts the crapulent major. He parks his car half a block from the gas station and waits until 8:00 PM, when the major will emerge and begin his walk home. The narrator follows the major for six Sundays. On the Saturday before their fateful encounter with him, Bon and the narrator drive to Chinatown. After lunch, they browse the shops, where “all manner of Orientalia” is sold. They buy UCLA sweatshirts and caps. That evening, after dark, the narrator and Bon go out once more, each with a screwdriver. They tour the neighborhood until they reach an apartment complex with a carport like the one at the major’s residence. Bon removes the front license plate from a car, while the narrator busies himself with the one at the rear. They then go home. Bon falls asleep immediately that night, but the narrator can’t.

The visit to Chinatown reminds the narrator of a past incident in Cholon, involving the arrest of a Communist suspect, a tax collector. The crapulent major’s men entered the tax collector’s shop and pushed past his wife to reach the storeroom, where there was a lever that opened a secret door. Inside, there were gamblers shooting craps and playing cards. On seeing the policemen charge into the room, the gamblers dispersed. The narrator was surprised to see the tax collector, after having tipped Man off about the raid. The tax collector spent a week in the interrogation center, being beaten. The man’s wife brought a bribe equivalent to a year’s salary to ensure her husband’s release. The major gave the narrator his share, and the narrator donated the money to the revolution, handing it to Man at the basilica. The point of writing this part of the confession to the Commandant is to prove Claude’s point that the crapulent major, too, was sinful. The Vietnamese regard extortion as an average offense, however.

The next evening, the narrator and Bon park down the street from the gas station at 7:30 PM, wearing the UCLA sweatshirts and caps. The narrator’s car has the stolen license plates affixed to it. Fireworks explode in the distance. Bon is tense while they wait for the crapulent major. At eight, the major leaves the gas station. They start the car and drive to his apartment complex. They wait eight minutes for the major’s arrival. Bon takes the gun out of the glove compartment and opens the cylinder to check the bullets. He clicks the cylinder back into place and lays the gun on a red velour pillow on his lap. He puts on a pair of latex gloves and removes his sneakers. The narrator gets out of the car and goes to the other end of the carport.

Bon walks in his socked feet to his position, between the two cars nearest to the path. He kneels down and keeps his head beneath the windows. The narrator holds a plastic bag with a yellow happy face and the words THANK YOU! on them. There are firecrackers and oranges inside, which he bought in Chinatown. He imagines his mother asking him if he’s sure about what he’s doing. The narrator thinks to himself that it’s too late to turn back. As the crapulent major approaches, the narrator greets him and lifts the bag, offering it as a Fourth of July present. The major is puzzled, wondering if Americans give gifts on the Fourth of July. He looks into the bag. Bon walks up behind him. Instead of pulling the trigger, Bon greets the major. When the major turns around, Bon shoots him in the head. The bullet makes a third eye. The narrator picks up the bag, which is dotted with blood.

At home, the narrator takes off his shoes, also dotted with blood. He wipes them and then calls the General. He tells him that “it’s done.” The General says, “Good,” and the narrator hangs up. The narrator goes back into the living room with two glasses and a bottle of rye. In the living room, Bon empties the contents of the crapulent major’s wallet. Inside, there’s a color photo of the major’s twins at a few weeks of age. When the narrator hands Bon a glass of rye, he sees the old blood oath scar on his hand. Bon toasts to the major. They then eat three of the oranges from the shopping bag and go to bed. When the narrator closes his eyes, he shudders at what he sees: “the crapulent major’s third eye, weeping because of what it could see about [him].”