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The Migrant Rain Falls in Reverse: A Memoir
An unconventional memoir of conjuring the uncertain past and a long-lost homeland, and a vital document of one family’s journey through world history
With the fall of Saigon on April 30, 1975, the U.S. war in Vietnam ended, but the refugee crisis was only beginning. Among the millions of people who fled Vietnam by boat were Vinh Nguyen, along with his mother and siblings, and his father, who left separately and then mysteriously vanished.
Decades later, Nguyen goes looking for the story of his father. What he discovers is a sea of questions drifting above sunken truths. To come to terms with the past, Nguyen must piece together the debris of history with family stories that have been scattered across generations and continents, kept for decades in broken hearts and guarded silences.
The Migrant Rain Falls in Reverse takes readers on a poignant tour of disappeared refugee camps, abandoned family homes, and the lives that could have been. As the fiftieth anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War approaches, this powerful memoir is timelier and more important than ever, illuminating the stories, real and imagined, that become buried in the rubble of war.
With the fall of Saigon on April 30, 1975, the U.S. war in Vietnam ended, but the refugee crisis was only beginning. Among the millions of people who fled Vietnam by boat were Vinh Nguyen, along with his mother and siblings, and his father, who left separately and then mysteriously vanished.
Decades later, Nguyen goes looking for the story of his father. What he discovers is a sea of questions drifting above sunken truths. To come to terms with the past, Nguyen must piece together the debris of history with family stories that have been scattered across generations and continents, kept for decades in broken hearts and guarded silences.
The Migrant Rain Falls in Reverse takes readers on a poignant tour of disappeared refugee camps, abandoned family homes, and the lives that could have been. As the fiftieth anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War approaches, this powerful memoir is timelier and more important than ever, illuminating the stories, real and imagined, that become buried in the rubble of war.
272 pages, Paperback
First published April 15, 2025
34 people are currently reading
2805 people want to read
About the author
Vinh Nguyen
3 books6 followersVINH NGUYEN is a writer and educator. His writing appears in Brick, LitHub, The Malahat Review, PRISM international, Grain, Queen’s Quarterly, Ricepaper, The Criterion Collection, and MUBI Notebook. He is a non-fiction editor at The New Quarterly, where he curates an ongoing series on refugee, migrant, and diasporic writing. He is also a staff writer at the Hamilton Review of Books.
Vinh is the author and co-editor of three academic books: Refugee States: Critical Refugee Studies in Canada, The Routledge Handbook of Refugee Narratives, and Lived Refuge: Gratitude, Resentment, Resilience. He is a co-founding member of the Critical Refugee + Migration Studies Network Canada and co-edits passages, a book series for Wilfrid Laurier University Press.
He served as a cultural consultant for the hit CBC comedy Run the Burbs and as a historical consultant on the “Vietnamese Boat People, 1979-1981” Heritage Minute. His writing has been shortlisted for a National Magazine Award and has received the John C. Polanyi Prize for Literature. In 2022, he was a Lambda Literary Fellow in Non-fiction for emerging LGBTQ writers. In 2024, he was a writer-in-residence at the Historic Joy Kogawa House. Vinh was born in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, and lives in Toronto, Canada.
Vinh is the author and co-editor of three academic books: Refugee States: Critical Refugee Studies in Canada, The Routledge Handbook of Refugee Narratives, and Lived Refuge: Gratitude, Resentment, Resilience. He is a co-founding member of the Critical Refugee + Migration Studies Network Canada and co-edits passages, a book series for Wilfrid Laurier University Press.
He served as a cultural consultant for the hit CBC comedy Run the Burbs and as a historical consultant on the “Vietnamese Boat People, 1979-1981” Heritage Minute. His writing has been shortlisted for a National Magazine Award and has received the John C. Polanyi Prize for Literature. In 2022, he was a Lambda Literary Fellow in Non-fiction for emerging LGBTQ writers. In 2024, he was a writer-in-residence at the Historic Joy Kogawa House. Vinh was born in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, and lives in Toronto, Canada.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 34 reviews
June 5, 2025
A solid-enough memoir but it didn’t speak to me like I’d expected. It felt like reading someone’s diary. At times, the story was interesting but it mostly floated about with little blurry vignettes. Half the time I didn’t know if the dad was alive or dead. Well, I did know but the theme was overplayed. Toward the end it got better (I enjoyed the self-reflective comparison to Oddyseus and the idea that no one can really know their father) but overall, it left a pretty soft impression.
August 5, 2025
There isn't much I have in common with Nguyen, a Vietnamese refugee who also happens to be gay. But somehow, he manages to convey raw human experiences in a way that makes them completely relatable. His writing is beautiful and heartbreaking.
One paragraph in particular that struck me is this one about the time after he lived in Tokyo teaching English in his early 20s:
"More than a decade later I'd find myself back on this train in a recurring dream: I've returned to Tokyo and time is running out. I must visit all my old haunts, the places that shaped me, and keep vigil so the flame of memory won't extinguish. To get there, I board the Yamanote Line, but sometimes the train is going the opposite direction, sometimes it doesn't arrive, sometimes I end up elsewhere."
In my early 20s, I lived in Shanghai and was forced to leave before I was ready. I have my own recurring dreams about transiting through the airport, having limited time to get into the city to see the places I used to go, and something always gets in the way so that I run out of time. I did not know that this was an experience I shared with anyone, and Nguyen helped me understand the source of these dreams. I still haven't made it back to Shanghai.
One paragraph in particular that struck me is this one about the time after he lived in Tokyo teaching English in his early 20s:
"More than a decade later I'd find myself back on this train in a recurring dream: I've returned to Tokyo and time is running out. I must visit all my old haunts, the places that shaped me, and keep vigil so the flame of memory won't extinguish. To get there, I board the Yamanote Line, but sometimes the train is going the opposite direction, sometimes it doesn't arrive, sometimes I end up elsewhere."
In my early 20s, I lived in Shanghai and was forced to leave before I was ready. I have my own recurring dreams about transiting through the airport, having limited time to get into the city to see the places I used to go, and something always gets in the way so that I run out of time. I did not know that this was an experience I shared with anyone, and Nguyen helped me understand the source of these dreams. I still haven't made it back to Shanghai.
November 14, 2025
Actual 4.7
Gorgeous, the voice reminded me of Ocean Vuong. Teared up at several occasions. Made me think a lot about how fast positions of privilege can change and how there can be multiple versions of a self. The disjointed narrative was confusing at times and the writing was a bit over the top at some points, but these were redeemed by the power of the story and the elements used to tell it
Gorgeous, the voice reminded me of Ocean Vuong. Teared up at several occasions. Made me think a lot about how fast positions of privilege can change and how there can be multiple versions of a self. The disjointed narrative was confusing at times and the writing was a bit over the top at some points, but these were redeemed by the power of the story and the elements used to tell it
August 12, 2025
A fascinating read of someone discovering and rediscovering their own story and themselves. I can understand some of the lower reviews around organization of the writing, but Nguyen so eloquently identifies this as a choice later on in the book. Ultimately, this book was clearly written for someone to discover their own story and themselves, and we are along for the ride. I think with the mindset that we are here just to observe this self-discovery and take lessons into our own lives about our own relationships, this is a beautifully written book.
November 10, 2025
Somehow this book did not win the Governor General’s Literary Award but it’s very clear why it was up for the award. Beautifully written, it is a fascinating and powerful description not only of the refugee experience but also of the long-term impact of losing his father during their migration.
January 19, 2026
I felt such sadness reading this book. The author’s search for his father, his self, was so affecting and grief laden, like the water imagery that permeates his story. I am not a refugee nor has my family suffered such a trauma as war, yet I’m haunted by this seemingly universal loss.
May 29, 2025
my pick for the read harder prompt, "read a book about immigration or refugees". a very beautiful and unique memoir!!
August 14, 2025
“That lands—and nations, peoples, and psyches—can be halved and quartered is why men think of them as women, as someone to love and fight for, conquer, and then leave. It’s a tired trope, but it reveals much about man’s possessive imagination and his relationship to war and peace.”
July 30, 2025
4.25
An unconventional style of memoir with queer POC representation? Always my cup of tea.
An unconventional style of memoir with queer POC representation? Always my cup of tea.
October 15, 2025
I don’t usually like Viet diaspora books. This one’s solid.
January 22, 2025
This is why we read.
Magical - literally and figuratively. Creative. Poetic. Moving. Heartbreaking. Different - An interesting hybrid - part non-fiction, part fiction (magical thinking).
On page 242 he sums it up beautifully when he states that: “Like my story, I am filled with unbridgeable connections.”
Highly recommended.
Thanks to the publisher and Edelweiss for granting me access to an early digital review copy.
Magical - literally and figuratively. Creative. Poetic. Moving. Heartbreaking. Different - An interesting hybrid - part non-fiction, part fiction (magical thinking).
On page 242 he sums it up beautifully when he states that: “Like my story, I am filled with unbridgeable connections.”
Highly recommended.
Thanks to the publisher and Edelweiss for granting me access to an early digital review copy.
July 4, 2025
3.5/5
I recently attended an Amnesty book club on World Refugee Day, where Vinh Nguyen was a guest speaker. Although I only read a few chapters at the time, I was already captivated by Nguyen’s tender prose. During the discussion, I listened to his perspective on the stories that he carried throughout the process of writing his memoir. When asked about his feelings of belonging to neither of the countries as an immigrant, if he ever experienced such feelings at all, he shared memories of playing in the refugee camp. Nguyen then acknowledged that the sense of belonging is ‘overrated’. I was taken aback by that at first, but as he explained, I realized that we usually emphasized on whether a place accepts us as strangers coming to its land instead of considering the other way around. Even during the time that Nguyen had no place to call home, in the middle of being ‘stateless’, he still found joy. I think it’s a refreshing take to seek our sense of home as opposed to being defined by the walls around us.
This book appears to be a way for the author to process grief and loss; since the wounds remain unhealed, the writer's uncertainty spilled onto the pages. Its title, The Migrant Rain Falls in Reverse, is clever and I love how Vinh Nguyen’s tender words carry me through each chapter. Although speculative memoir may not be my favourite genre and I barely learned much about the author’s life, he painted the father figure meticulously and allowed space for his mother’s narrative gracefully. Even though I found some parts to be far-fetched, it was moving to be reminded how we often overlook that our parents are, after all, only humans with hopes and dreams.
As a Vietnamese who grew up in Sai Gon after the war and later immigrated to the same country where the author currently resides, I do approach this book with a cautious mind: what I read represented a different perspective that I never learned in my history class, while the author's experiences are true to him, they might still can be an incomplete view. I want to stray away from the political debates regarding old and new Vietnam, but I wonder how many readers might mistakenly see a memoir like this as a representation of the entire country instead of a specific period in history.
It’s intriguing to flip through the pages and recognize the places that I previously walked past both in Vietnam and Canada, which have been featured in another individual's narrative and uncovered various facts that I'd once missed. Vinh Nguyen didn’t recount the past experiences with bitterness, he simply devoted to making sense of what his family went through—this, in fact, is what makes the book endearing to me. Gently and genuinely, the book unfolds, and for many immigrants and refugees who might not know what home is—something that “remains just out of our reach”— all we truly need is just an open listener.
I recently attended an Amnesty book club on World Refugee Day, where Vinh Nguyen was a guest speaker. Although I only read a few chapters at the time, I was already captivated by Nguyen’s tender prose. During the discussion, I listened to his perspective on the stories that he carried throughout the process of writing his memoir. When asked about his feelings of belonging to neither of the countries as an immigrant, if he ever experienced such feelings at all, he shared memories of playing in the refugee camp. Nguyen then acknowledged that the sense of belonging is ‘overrated’. I was taken aback by that at first, but as he explained, I realized that we usually emphasized on whether a place accepts us as strangers coming to its land instead of considering the other way around. Even during the time that Nguyen had no place to call home, in the middle of being ‘stateless’, he still found joy. I think it’s a refreshing take to seek our sense of home as opposed to being defined by the walls around us.
This book appears to be a way for the author to process grief and loss; since the wounds remain unhealed, the writer's uncertainty spilled onto the pages. Its title, The Migrant Rain Falls in Reverse, is clever and I love how Vinh Nguyen’s tender words carry me through each chapter. Although speculative memoir may not be my favourite genre and I barely learned much about the author’s life, he painted the father figure meticulously and allowed space for his mother’s narrative gracefully. Even though I found some parts to be far-fetched, it was moving to be reminded how we often overlook that our parents are, after all, only humans with hopes and dreams.
As a Vietnamese who grew up in Sai Gon after the war and later immigrated to the same country where the author currently resides, I do approach this book with a cautious mind: what I read represented a different perspective that I never learned in my history class, while the author's experiences are true to him, they might still can be an incomplete view. I want to stray away from the political debates regarding old and new Vietnam, but I wonder how many readers might mistakenly see a memoir like this as a representation of the entire country instead of a specific period in history.
It’s intriguing to flip through the pages and recognize the places that I previously walked past both in Vietnam and Canada, which have been featured in another individual's narrative and uncovered various facts that I'd once missed. Vinh Nguyen didn’t recount the past experiences with bitterness, he simply devoted to making sense of what his family went through—this, in fact, is what makes the book endearing to me. Gently and genuinely, the book unfolds, and for many immigrants and refugees who might not know what home is—something that “remains just out of our reach”— all we truly need is just an open listener.
January 21, 2026
I had really high hopes for this book- a Vietnamese Canadian who came to Canada by boat amidst a war... sounds promising!
Unfortunately, the storytelling did little to live up to my expectations. most of this story was all over the place in terms of timeline- nothing was in an order I could follow. One moment, we would be reflecting back on Vietnam memories and the next he is flying a plane to Calgary to visit his mom and then he would be back in Toronto with his partner and then back to Vietnam in an alternate storyline. This was just too much.
There were also a lot of "imaginative" pieces to this story I didn't care for at all. A memoir, for me, is expected to be a linear trail of some sort - whether it be following a timeline of someone year to year or an experience timeline. This was just a mix of real life and just complete made up storylines of what he felt something could have been. It really didn't sit well for me.
The last critical thing I had of this story was just the fact that the author seemed confused whether he was writing a memoir, poetry, or just straight up trying to write about something else altogether. There were definitely pieces of a memoir, however, it seemed to sit on nothing but a vague memory of him leaving Vietnam and knowing family was still there. He often goes into this "poetic vibe" where he starts rhyming off the description of places or things in ways that I cannot describe as anything else but "elementary level poetic". Very much "this beautiful scene and lush greenery" vibes. Finally, at MANY points, I felt like all he was doing was thinking about death and talking about grief, it started to seem like he was writing about overcoming and dealing with grief in one's life- which was aside the point of the memoir.
Overall, I would not recommend this book, but the extra star was worth the little bit of storyline I did get out of it.
Unfortunately, the storytelling did little to live up to my expectations. most of this story was all over the place in terms of timeline- nothing was in an order I could follow. One moment, we would be reflecting back on Vietnam memories and the next he is flying a plane to Calgary to visit his mom and then he would be back in Toronto with his partner and then back to Vietnam in an alternate storyline. This was just too much.
There were also a lot of "imaginative" pieces to this story I didn't care for at all. A memoir, for me, is expected to be a linear trail of some sort - whether it be following a timeline of someone year to year or an experience timeline. This was just a mix of real life and just complete made up storylines of what he felt something could have been. It really didn't sit well for me.
The last critical thing I had of this story was just the fact that the author seemed confused whether he was writing a memoir, poetry, or just straight up trying to write about something else altogether. There were definitely pieces of a memoir, however, it seemed to sit on nothing but a vague memory of him leaving Vietnam and knowing family was still there. He often goes into this "poetic vibe" where he starts rhyming off the description of places or things in ways that I cannot describe as anything else but "elementary level poetic". Very much "this beautiful scene and lush greenery" vibes. Finally, at MANY points, I felt like all he was doing was thinking about death and talking about grief, it started to seem like he was writing about overcoming and dealing with grief in one's life- which was aside the point of the memoir.
Overall, I would not recommend this book, but the extra star was worth the little bit of storyline I did get out of it.
March 12, 2025
This is a beautifully written memoir that follows the author’s journey as he struggles to reconcile his experiences escaping Vietnam and losing his father as a child and his current adult identity. The author’s desperation to understand his tumultuous past was heartbreaking to read as it forced me to consider what my own family had to go through when they left Vietnam in search of a better life, how they were forced to assimilate to a foreign land, how that has shaped them throughout the years, and how those sacrifices have affected me as someone who was born and raised in the US. While Vinh Nguyen’s thoughts and feelings might not be shared by every Vietnamese Diaspora, his memoir definitely gives insight into the struggles and lasting effects of escaping a war-torn country and starting a new life.
Not gonna lie, I teared up so many times while reading this. This hit so close to home and really opened my eyes to the fact that my community had to go through life or death situations to be able to call the US home. I can't even fathom what each and every one of them has lost and how those experiences might still linger in their minds today. Books like this memoir, written by POC authors, are so important to give insight into events that may have been previously told through a Western voice and lens. I am so honored to have been able to read this.
Thank you to the author and publisher for providing the ARC.
Not gonna lie, I teared up so many times while reading this. This hit so close to home and really opened my eyes to the fact that my community had to go through life or death situations to be able to call the US home. I can't even fathom what each and every one of them has lost and how those experiences might still linger in their minds today. Books like this memoir, written by POC authors, are so important to give insight into events that may have been previously told through a Western voice and lens. I am so honored to have been able to read this.
Thank you to the author and publisher for providing the ARC.
June 8, 2025
Reading at least 10 to 20 memoirs a year, this one was the worst I've come across in more than a decade. The ratings (very few) for this book here are vastly and tremendously overrated.
It's the style of writing but also the feelings' base and lack of continuity. I do UNDERSTAND his obsession and core of "lost" and "lostness". But you need ENGLISH PROGRESSION to express some sense of chronology or cognition at any one or two or ten pivotal points IN REALITY.
This book is about feelings of victimhood for abandonment and dislocation combined. It's heartfelt and I do believe it is authentic, true too. But the way it is written and expressed is nearly incomprehenisve and just about compiling grief and lacks integrated for/to the reader. And some possible completions or closures for the writer himself too.
Also note that the author was born AFTER the war and in the negative outcomes decade for those who fought for South V.N. Republic. Time frames in this memoir are more than puzzling. He should have cored on the refugee camps (3 in his childhood) much, much more. In fact, he was NOT in Vietnam but in Thailand or Cambodia in his own childhood's span.
But hopping around and the numbers of off tangents and unrelated to the core sidetracks? I really wanted to like this one too. Really, I got a lot more integration and understanding of his Mom more than I did Vinh.
As someone who did counsel, I doubt this helped the author much at all. I also think the trailer is not what was in the book primarily at all.
It's the style of writing but also the feelings' base and lack of continuity. I do UNDERSTAND his obsession and core of "lost" and "lostness". But you need ENGLISH PROGRESSION to express some sense of chronology or cognition at any one or two or ten pivotal points IN REALITY.
This book is about feelings of victimhood for abandonment and dislocation combined. It's heartfelt and I do believe it is authentic, true too. But the way it is written and expressed is nearly incomprehenisve and just about compiling grief and lacks integrated for/to the reader. And some possible completions or closures for the writer himself too.
Also note that the author was born AFTER the war and in the negative outcomes decade for those who fought for South V.N. Republic. Time frames in this memoir are more than puzzling. He should have cored on the refugee camps (3 in his childhood) much, much more. In fact, he was NOT in Vietnam but in Thailand or Cambodia in his own childhood's span.
But hopping around and the numbers of off tangents and unrelated to the core sidetracks? I really wanted to like this one too. Really, I got a lot more integration and understanding of his Mom more than I did Vinh.
As someone who did counsel, I doubt this helped the author much at all. I also think the trailer is not what was in the book primarily at all.
January 31, 2025
Thank you to NetGalley and Harper Collins for the advance copy of The Migrant Rain Falls In Reverse.
This is an excellent book.
It is very poetic, very unique and very creative. The story is told in a variety of ways to tell us that his father did not make it out with the family. He wants so badly to know his father's history.
However, that is one of the points of this story, war separated, devastated and split families. The sacrifice dad made for his family. The author would like to know, needs to know, and has found a great life for himself. However, there will always be something missing, something tugging at his heartstrings.
Although about Vietnam its also about Canada. It highlights that this is where they came to be safe. This is where they needed to be.
One of my top five read in the past year for sure. This is a suggested read for everyone, regardless of your style of reading. You will learn about the unintended consequences of war, you will tear up and you will love this book.
This is an excellent book.
It is very poetic, very unique and very creative. The story is told in a variety of ways to tell us that his father did not make it out with the family. He wants so badly to know his father's history.
However, that is one of the points of this story, war separated, devastated and split families. The sacrifice dad made for his family. The author would like to know, needs to know, and has found a great life for himself. However, there will always be something missing, something tugging at his heartstrings.
Although about Vietnam its also about Canada. It highlights that this is where they came to be safe. This is where they needed to be.
One of my top five read in the past year for sure. This is a suggested read for everyone, regardless of your style of reading. You will learn about the unintended consequences of war, you will tear up and you will love this book.
September 7, 2025
Vinh Nguyen was born in Vietnam and with his mother and siblings, fled to Cambodia, leaving his father behind. His family eventually relocated to Calgary where they started a new life. However Nguyen was always haunted by the unknown fate of his father. He travelled back several times over the years, reconnected with long lost family and researched documents in the hopes of finding out what happened to his father, Nguyen does not tell his story in a linear format - instead he uses memories pierced together with the present. He also includes a 'what might have been' future if things had been different. At first I found this disconcerting - it felt like I was walking through unsteady ground and only occasionally landing on a concrete piece of ground or story line. Still, I got into the narrative style and felt that for Nguyen this worked for him. For an exceptional tale of survival, longing and learning to come to terms with the past, this is a story for you. Another Amnesty International book club read
January 26, 2026
The Migrant Rain Falls in Reverse: A Memoir
Vinh Nguyen
My church sponsored a Vietnam Family and I encountered one that had been sponsored in Austin Texas. Too many of the youth ended up succumbing to easy money in drugs and Asian Gangs.
The move from a tropical environment to a world of snow, a foreign language and culture added extra trauma after escaping a world of war, fleeing as a refugee and leaving behind everything formerly familiar often including family members.
My own ancestors emigrated from war-torn Europe but settled into homogeneous communities in the new world and brought religious and cultural traditions with them.
At the present time I feel the need for something more upbeat.
Vinh Nguyen
My church sponsored a Vietnam Family and I encountered one that had been sponsored in Austin Texas. Too many of the youth ended up succumbing to easy money in drugs and Asian Gangs.
The move from a tropical environment to a world of snow, a foreign language and culture added extra trauma after escaping a world of war, fleeing as a refugee and leaving behind everything formerly familiar often including family members.
My own ancestors emigrated from war-torn Europe but settled into homogeneous communities in the new world and brought religious and cultural traditions with them.
At the present time I feel the need for something more upbeat.
December 24, 2025
A beautifully-written book, which had tears in my eyes at times. So many themes here. It is the story of a family's migration from Vietnam, but the author's father disappears before being able to rejoin his family and in large part this is the author's reckoning of how he has dealt with his father's absence in his life, while his mother continues ever-present but perhaps unseen. (I would have to re-read to find some of the poignant passages I have in mind, in which he writes about his mother). A recommended read.
June 21, 2025
3.5 rounded up
A moving father-son migrant story written by a gay Vietnamese Canadian man grappling with his family's journey from Vietnam and the way his father mysteriously disappeared along the way. I liked the way the author incorporated his mother's version of events and seeing the past through her eyes versus the way he remembered things. It was good on audio and recommended for anyone who enjoys migrant memoir stories like Sigh, gone by Phuc Tran.
A moving father-son migrant story written by a gay Vietnamese Canadian man grappling with his family's journey from Vietnam and the way his father mysteriously disappeared along the way. I liked the way the author incorporated his mother's version of events and seeing the past through her eyes versus the way he remembered things. It was good on audio and recommended for anyone who enjoys migrant memoir stories like Sigh, gone by Phuc Tran.
December 29, 2025
This book was given to me by a friend.
Wow what a touching, relatable book as someone who's parents fled Vietnam after war.
All the words in this book written by the author represented all the feelings my parents and I have felt and experienced being immigrants in Canada along with the grief and loss that is impossible to find the words for.
Vinh, thank you so much for encapsulating this in your memoir.
Wow what a touching, relatable book as someone who's parents fled Vietnam after war.
All the words in this book written by the author represented all the feelings my parents and I have felt and experienced being immigrants in Canada along with the grief and loss that is impossible to find the words for.
Vinh, thank you so much for encapsulating this in your memoir.
September 7, 2025
Odd book, I never really connected with the author which, given that it’s a memoir, made the reading experience very flat. Nor did I care for all the imagined alternative lives he wished for his father. I did like the reference to Odysseus at the end and how no one really know their father, but overall can’t say I’d rush to read anything else Nyguen writes
December 1, 2025
This is the story of Vinh Nguyen whose family fled vietnam and ended up in refugee camps in Thailand before settling in Canada. The writing is poetic and beautiful. Nguyen searches out what happened to his Dad who did not go with them when they fled Vietnam including an odd what if sequence I could have done without. Overall loved his writing style and will look for his next work.
December 19, 2025
Not an easy read (she said, privilegedly, while underneath a blanket, with an SK-II sheet mask on), and it probably shouldn’t be. But it’s also beautiful and imaginative and elucidating and really vulnerable.
I burst into tears at three distinct times (no spoilers) and each time thought, “ah! Lesser writers wouldn’t have done that.” This is one of the best memoirs I’ve ever read.
I burst into tears at three distinct times (no spoilers) and each time thought, “ah! Lesser writers wouldn’t have done that.” This is one of the best memoirs I’ve ever read.
June 14, 2025
Loved this memoir. Haunting and creative with the inclusion of a fictional “what could have been” and his mother’s contributions to the writing. As I read the book, it even stirred up ghosts and unresolved issues and questions from my past.
June 16, 2025
Wonderful. The searching, haunted heart of a person told in a story of a migrant. Or is it the searching, haunted life and journey of a migrant told in the story of a sad, searching heart.
July 3, 2025
part I is excellent.
part II is odd.
part III is feeble.
part II is odd.
part III is feeble.
August 10, 2025
3.6 ⭐️
Interesting take on grief and not wanting to re write history because then you wouldn’t be the person you are today (atleast that was my take!)
Interesting take on grief and not wanting to re write history because then you wouldn’t be the person you are today (atleast that was my take!)
August 31, 2025
This memoir definitely has an unconventional structure. I appreciated a lot of Nguyen's stories, but it was certainly a pretty heavy listen at times.
September 22, 2025
Heartbreaking and profound. Nguyen's quickening of his father in the face of the uncertainty of his existence highlights the power and necessity of imagination following loss that results from war or conflict. He presents his process as more than magical thinking as a coping mechanism or a means of survival: it is his means of self-discovery, and the path to accepting his uncertain self.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 34 reviews