Fifty years after the Vietnam War ended, literary voices of the Vietnamese American diaspora and authors currently living in postwar Vietnam speak to the experience of those who left and those who stayed in this anthology of new short fiction edited by Quan Manh Ha and Cab Tran.
For much of the twentieth century, Vietnam played an outsized role on the global stage, charting the destinies of superpowers and reshaping the world’s politics. Now fifty years after the end of the Vietnam War comes The Colors of April, an anthology of fiction that finally speaks to the Vietnamese experience: voices of both those who left and those who stayed, what was gained and lost in the half century since, and for the generations that followed—what it means to be Vietnamese. More than two dozen distinct literary voices are featured in this collection, including those of Viet Thanh Nguyen, Andrew Lam, Barbara Tran, and Vi Khi Nao, among others. The stories are as diverse in style, tone, and subject matter as the ancestral lands of the Vietnamese people. From the rubble of the Ancient Citadel in Quảng Trị to the makeshift orphanages outside Sài Gòn, from Palo Alto to a tony Lincoln Park apartment in Chicago, the narratives straddle continents and generations, the political as well as the personal. But what they share is much greater than their differences. They speak to a common language, to a culture steeped in history and myth and storytelling that vividly captures the enduring spirit of the Vietnamese people.
Quan Manh Ha is Professor of English at University of Montana and the co-translator of Other Moons: Vietnamese Short Stories of the American War and Its Aftermath, among other titles. Cab Tran holds an MFA from University of Michigan’s Helen Zell Writers’ Program. His fiction and nonfiction have appeared in Vagabond: Bulgaria’s English Monthly, Black Warrior Review, The Iconoclast, and elsewhere. He teaches fiction for Gotham Writers’ Workshop. In 2023, they co-translated and co-edited Bảo Ninh’s Hà Nội at Midnight.
“We are not defined by the wars we fight, but by the stories we choose to tell.”
I was impressed with this introduction to the short story anthology, which contains a diverse selection of fiction by authors from various backgrounds, political perspectives and generations. The topics of the short stories did not just limit itself to memories or trauma of the war or but also musings on identities and belongings, on what was lost and what could have been, on relationships between people and families once divided. I found some stories to be more compelling than others, simply because of my preference for a playful writing style. My favorites are: “Bad Things Didn’t Happen” by Gin To, “MIA, MIO; POW, POP” by Lưu Vĩ Lân, “A Jarai Tribesman and His Wife” by Nguyễn Đức Tùng, “Six’s Sign” by Anvi Hoàng.
Overall, I think the book did a good job of giving readers a panorama of postwar & contemporary Vietnam, not just the war-ravaged one but also one that bears the irony of market-oriented socialist economy and effects of globalization, that deals with complex social issues. The book does not glorify or undermine one side or another, but simply tells stories of humans life, which I find a sincere way of paying tribute to the past. Not a perfect anthology, but one I would highly recommend if you want to know more about Vietnam beyond the war.
The Colors of April: Fiction on the Vietnam War’s Legacy 50 Years Later is a strikingly beautiful collection of short stories that brings to the center many unheard voices from those who endured the destruction of war and are still grappling with its aftermath. The perspectives present in this collection range from a northern-Vietnamese veteran suffering from dioxin poisoning to the teenage children of martyred refugees growing up in America. Uniting all the stories is an undercurrent of loss and grief that shows how inextricably intertwined conflict is with one's identity.
Translators Ha and Tran have brought together 28 gripping stories that every American should read. This collection defies the binary nature of most war literature, showing simultaneously the humanity and the capacity for destruction that are present within every combatant and indeed every bystander.
At times painful and devastating, at other times moving and reflective, these stories span a huge emotional range, reminding us (as contributor Andrew Lam, says) that above all, this conflict is "an unfinished story."
The Colors of April, edited by Quan Manh Ha and Cab Tran; Fiction on the Vietnam War’s Legacy 50 Years Later; Multiple Authors This book is comprised of 28 short stories. Each of the stories touched a different part of my heart and mind, as it most surely did the same for each of the authors putting pen to paper for this book. They are all Vietnamese authors currently residing in Vietnam. Their writing represents the feelings, experiences and effects of the war upon all those who were involved, regardless of which side they were on or whether or not they remained or escaped. It was hard to read, and it took me a very long time because, as an American, I had many conflicting thoughts and feelings. Why were we there? What did we accomplish? Was it positive for the people of Vietnam? Were they better off before or afterwards? How do they feel now? Did those who escaped yearn to return? Could they recapture their past? Are they still the enemy? This book tells that story. All of the stories felt like they hearkened back to the days before the war, when life was simpler. To me, as I experienced the writing, their skies seemed bluer, their sun seemed brighter, their landscape seemed more beautiful and the people seemed gentler and kinder, but who was at fault for all of the perceived changes? Who was the real enemy? Was everyone involved merely furthering their own interests. Each author, regardless of the subject, whether it was about orphans, sexual exploitation, boat people, politics, tourism, etc., seemed to be yearning to return to a way of life that is now and forever out of reach. Time and circumstances have moved on. I believe this is a very important book for everyone to read, but especially students learning about the history of America and Vietnam during the more than two decades of the war. Perhaps with knowledge, it will be possible to stop the fighting; perhaps when all is said and done, we will realize that we do not have to be enemies, that we can put down our weapons and work together. Do you think that is a real possibility? For me, that was the message of “Echoes”, by Van Xuong. My favorite story, however, was “A Vietnamese Arriere-Boutique, by Kevin D. Pham, because it seemed to emphasize the ability to go back in time, to rethink about what was, to change our mind about what will be, to review the circumstances then and now, to try and understand what was wrong and what was right, what was lost, what was found, what was freely given up, and what can never be restored. It seemed to acknowledge the ability to deal with the heartache, the shame, the guilt, the ignorance, the misinterpretations and misunderstandings that everyone had, and still has to face so long as there was the willingness to do so. I felt as if the message of this short story was that we could overcome the obstacles to rethinking about everything that happened, the causes and effects, and then learn we could learn from it and move forward, but we would have to have the right to think freely. By retreating into the privacy of our own minds we could find that place to think freely, without the rear of judgment or ridicule, punishment or rejection. In the locked room of our minds, no one can interrupt or contradict our right to think about what happened and we can decide to change our minds about the decisions and choices that were made. Having lived through this era, the book really reached me. The horrors of that war, the loss and the protests were front and center of my young life. Americans did not want to go there and fight in a war that was not ours, under circumstances we could not control, in a place with which we had no experience, with a kind of warfare we didn’t understand. Drug addiction, wanton death, rampant mental illness and so much misery were the byproducts for so many on all sides. Although this book is not really about the Vietnamese people who escaped to America and elsewhere, who may or may not be happy, it really made me rethink even more about the terrible loss of life and lifestyle for those who were in Vietnam and experienced the war, firsthand, the soldiers, the citizens, the enemies and the allies. In the end, I felt as if a happy people were forced to be unhappy because some people resented their happiness or wanted it for themselves. Everyone’s lives were altered and ruined in some way. Was it simply jealousy and greed that motivated so much hardship, destruction and death?
DNFed @ page 85. I may try to come back to this in the future, but for now it's been rough going, and I couldn't get into it. Translated Vietnamese fiction is still hit-or-miss for me, and it wasn't helping that most of these stories were quite short (< 50 pages), meaning that characters and plots didn't have the time to be developed as much as I'd like. There was also a sameness to the stories that was making them blur together in my mind--never a good thing.
This is an excellent book! It comes just as I am looking for literature on the legacy of the Vietnam War. We need to hear and learn from the war from the voices of diverse Vietnamese people who both do and don't find themselves within political, geographical, social, and cultural dichotomies of "left" or "stayed", "pro" or "anti", "left" or "right", "win" or "lose", "Vietnamized" or "Americanized"...All voices are valid and should be considered weaving threads of a tapestry named peace and reconciliation.
The Colors of April, edited by Quan Manh Ha and Cab Tran, is a poignant literary tapestry woven from the voices of Vietnamese authors (rendered in English translation) and Vietnamese American authors (writing originally in English). This collection—featuring both acclaimed and emerging writers—reveals a broad spectrum of political perspectives, personal experiences, and collective memories, each distinct in its articulation yet bound together by the war’s inescapable shadow. In amplifying Vietnamese voices so frequently marginalized in Americentric historiography, the collection fosters not merely dialogue—but an empathetic communion with the past.
I enjoyed learning more about the effects of the Vietnam War through this short story collection—I struggle with short stories on audio, but once I got where I could listen in long stretches (thank you, road trip), it was much better. Would definitely recommend!
The Vietnamese are very loud, but their voices are often not heard by the people who don’t understand the Vietnamese, or who only want to think of Americans when they hear the word Vietnam. The Colors of April with short stories 50 years later, edited by Quan Manh Ha and Cab Tran, is another voice of the Vietnamese. Each story repesents the feelings and effects of the war regardless of those who were involved or not, regardless of which side they were on.
I haven’t lived through this war and perhaps the book was not easy to read, but stories evokes my sympathy with the horrors of that war. A constant question when reading this book is probably whether the war is good for us, the Vietnamese and also for the American when they came there for a warfare that they themselves do not understand. Above all, the message the book delivers perhaps is each of us need to honestly rethink about the war and take it a lesson to learn how to move forward wisely. The book is truly worth to spend for a few precious weekend!
Strangely, the reason I initially hesitated to read this book turned out to be the very reason I couldn’t put it down. Fiction about the Vietnamese War? As a Vietnamese, I simply didn't want our international image forever tied to war. Yet, the book's green cover with watercolored lotus flowers - seemingly at odds with the hues of war and bombs - prompted me to give it a try. “We are defined not by the wars we fight, but by the stories we choose to tell”. The anthology’s opening line resonated deeply with me. The choice of stories is truly a matter of narrative ethics! This ethical responsibility falls not only on writers - the storytellers, but also on the anthology’s editors who select and showcase these stories.
* Colors of April or Intertwined Voices of History I am amazed that this anthology is the first and only one to date to bring together the works of both Vietnamese and Vietnamese-American writers. With over two dozen short stories, the book paints a multifaceted portrait of the war's aftermath, from both North and South Vietnam, and from Vietnam and the US, crossing the boundaries deeply divided after the historic April of 1975. Vietnamese writers explore the lingering effects of war on American soldiers, such as in Lê Vũ Trường Giang's “A New Perspective” and Trần Thị Tú Ngọc's “In Silence, In Rain”. Conversely, Vietnamese-American authors delve into the pain inflicted upon Vietnam, as exemplified in Viet Thanh Nguyen's “The Immolation” and Barbara Tran's “Laws of Motion”. Stories like Bảo Thương's “The Passed Season” and Nguyễn Thị Kim Hoà's “A Rockfall Dream” explore the divisions and reconciliations within Vietnamese families, revealing the enduring scars of the conflict. Yet, amidst the pain and trauma, the anthology also offers moments of hope and resilience. Stories of compassion, love, and perseverance emerge, of which “War’s End” by Vũ Cao Phan, “Night” by Nguyễn Mỹ Nữ, “The Fish and the Banyan Tree” by Elizabeth Tran are my favorites, remind us of the human spirit's ability to endure and find meaning even in the darkest of times.
* Gazes through Media The anthology's exploration of media is particularly thought-provoking. Many characters, including writers, journalists, and academics, hold significant influence over historical narratives. The book subtly satirizes the media's role in shaping public perception, as seen in Viet Thanh Nguyen's critique of American media manipulation in “The Immolation” and Kevin D. Pham's questioning of Vietnamese propaganda strategies in “A Vietnamese Arrière-Boutique”. A recurring image throughout the anthology is that of individuals caught between two battlefronts, returning to seek their heritage; examples include Kevin D Pham’s “A Vietnamese Arrière-Boutique” and Andrew Lam’s “5A, 5B, DEST: SGN”. I am struck by the young man who finds himself "confused and frustrated," seeking answers to the question "What were they fighting for?" and ultimately discovering a freer understanding of humankind.
* Beyond Oceans – Towards Common Shores Dr. Ha Manh Quan, one of the anthology's editors, has consistently demonstrated his commitment to translating classic and contemporary Vietnamese literature for an international audience. While this anthology might not immediately impress those seeking established names in contemporary Vietnamese literature, its unique strength lies in its showcase of emerging Vietnamese writers. The book offers a vibrant and colorful portrayal of how the memory and legacy of war continue to shape contemporary Vietnamese society. It's a testament to the resilience and diversity of Vietnamese literature, highlighting the new voices and perspectives that are emerging.
Ultimately, I was left with the serene blue of a book about war's aftermath, a color that symbolized peace and the all-encompassing ocean. As the editors write, “together they [literary works] show how the literal and ideological oceans that once divided the Vietnamese - separating those who left from those who stayed - are now finding common shores”.
A fascinating collection of short stories that paint a vivid picture of life after the Vietnam War for the citizens there. This anthology, written by various authors, dives into the physical and mental conditions of survivors and the changing landscapes of a country torn apart.
One thing I loved about this collection is the variety of storytelling styles. Some stories are practical and straightforward about daily life, while others have a more spiritual or lore-like feel, echoing oral traditions that show the deep bond between the land and its people. Some tell about the generations that came after and were born elsewhere, while others about those that were there throughout and remained after the guns and bombs stopped. This mix adds depth to the reading experience, giving different perspectives on the war's lasting impact.
One negative with this book, and it was of my own making and absolutely no fault of the book itself, was that I listened to this on audiobook. The voice actor was amazing and deserves high praise, but my unfamiliarity with the Vietnamese language was a bit of a challenge. For stories that had a lot of place and people names in Vietnamese, I would find myself struggling to associate the unfamiliar sounds with characteristics in order to follow along, and I feel that there were elements of the story lost on me as a result of me trying to connect the dots. If this had been a full-length book, I likely would have been able to pick that up better through repetition as the story developed, but in short stories, there is only so much time before we’ve moved on to the next place or character, so there wasn't enough time for me to make these associations. If I revisit this book, I'll definitely pick up the print version.
While the experiences of Western soldiers and their families dealing with the Vietnam War’s impact are important, it's crucial to remember that there are many other stories to tell, and that we ensure we’re learning those stories as well. This collection helps give voice to those stories to remind us that war isn’t an ideology or an abstract, and that just because these stories are fiction, the experiences shaping those stories were very real.
Strangely, the reason I initially hesitated to read this book turned out to be the very reason I couldn’t put it down. Fiction about the Vietnamese War? As a Vietnamese, I simply didn't want our international image forever tied to war. Yet, the book's green cover with watercolored lotus flowers - seemingly at odds with the hues of war and bombs - prompted me to give it a try. “We are defined not by the wars we fight, but by the stories we choose to tell”. The anthology’s opening line resonated deeply with me. The choice of stories is truly a matter of narrative ethics! This ethical responsibility falls not only on writers - the storytellers, but also on the anthology’s editors who select and showcase these stories.
* Colors of April or Intertwined Voices of History I am amazed that this anthology is the first and only one to date to bring together the works of both Vietnamese and Vietnamese-American writers. With over two dozen short stories, the book paints a multifaceted portrait of the war's aftermath, from both North and South Vietnam, and from Vietnam and the US, crossing the boundaries deeply divided after the historic April of 1975. Vietnamese writers explore the lingering effects of war on American soldiers, such as in Lê Vũ Trường Giang's “A New Perspective” and Trần Thị Tú Ngọc's “In Silence, In Rain”. Conversely, Vietnamese-American authors delve into the pain inflicted upon Vietnam, as exemplified in Viet Thanh Nguyen's “The Immolation” and Barbara Tran's “Laws of Motion”. Stories like Bảo Thương's “The Passed Season” and Nguyễn Thị Kim Hoà's “A Rockfall Dream” explore the divisions and reconciliations within Vietnamese families, revealing the enduring scars of the conflict. Yet, amidst the pain and trauma, the anthology also offers moments of hope and resilience. Stories of compassion, love, and perseverance emerge, of which “War’s End” by Vũ Cao Phan, “Night” by Nguyễn Mỹ Nữ, “The Fish and the Banyan Tree” by Elizabeth Tran are my favorites, remind us of the human spirit's ability to endure and find meaning even in the darkest of times.
* Gazes through Media The anthology's exploration of media is particularly thought-provoking. Many characters, including writers, journalists, and academics, hold significant influence over historical narratives. The book subtly satirizes the media's role in shaping public perception, as seen in Viet Thanh Nguyen's critique of American media manipulation in “The Immolation” and Kevin D. Pham's questioning of Vietnamese propaganda strategies in “A Vietnamese Arrière-Boutique”. A recurring image throughout the anthology is that of individuals caught between two battlefronts, returning to seek their heritage; examples include Kevin D Pham’s “A Vietnamese Arrière-Boutique” and Andrew Lam’s “5A, 5B, DEST: SGN”. I am struck by the young man who finds himself "confused and frustrated," seeking answers to the question "What were they fighting for?" and ultimately discovering a freer understanding of humankind.
* Beyond Oceans – Towards Common Shores Dr. Ha Manh Quan, one of the anthology's editors, has consistently demonstrated his commitment to translating classic and contemporary Vietnamese literature for an international audience. While this anthology might not immediately impress those seeking established names in contemporary Vietnamese literature, its unique strength lies in its showcase of emerging Vietnamese writers. The book offers a vibrant and colorful portrayal of how the memory and legacy of war continue to shape contemporary Vietnamese society. It's a testament to the resilience and diversity of Vietnamese literature, highlighting the new voices and perspectives that are emerging.
Ultimately, I was left with the serene blue of a book about war's aftermath, a color that symbolized peace and the all-encompassing ocean. As the editors write, “together they [literary works] show how the literal and ideological oceans that once divided the Vietnamese - separating those who left from those who stayed - are now finding common shores”.
I sometimes teach a course on literature and war, and the Vietnam War is covered because it was such a controversial war in our 20th century history. In the past, I tried to include some voices from Vietnam, such as The Sorrow of War and Paradise of the Blind—but these books have been too widely taught, and they came out in the mid 1990s. I wanted to introduce my students to some new writings and found The Color of April. The editors selected about 30 stories from Vietnam and the Vietnamese American refugee community—kind of unique! I was surprised to see some authors from Vietnam dare to criticize their totalitarian government and its treatments of Vietnamese dissidents after the Americans left. I had thought Vietnamese authors would be in big trouble if they did so. For instance, “Kinship” talks about reeducation camps and the abused lives many southerners lived under the communist regime. I also got to see how some authors wrote about characters/people that I didn’t know much about, such as mixed-race children, Vietnamese prostitutes to American GIs, victims of dioxin, etc. The stories by the diasporic Vietnamese authors seem not focus too much on hatred or resentment of communism; I guess because they are written by people who grew up here, unlike their parents or grandparents who experienced communist atrocity. Some stories are better than the others, but overall this is a pretty comprehensive anthology especially for my class.
As Cab Tran and Quan Manh Ha say in the introduction: “Only through the power of narrative can we bridge our differences, find common ground, nurture empathy, and seek some measure of closure-a way to transcend war and the suffering it brings, as storytellers have done since the beginning.”
This collection contains stories in English orginally and translated from the Vietnamese, from Vietnamese and the Vietnamese Diaspora.
My favourite five star stories were: • 5A,5B, DEST: SGN • A New Perspective • A Vietnamese Arrière-Boutique • The Fish and the Banyan Tree • The Blood Lily • Six’s Sign • The Việt Kiều Casanova • Kinship • American Grass • The Return
The collection’s central themes include the lingering trauma of war, the pain and resilience of displacement, and the complex identities of those living between cultures in the Vietnamese diaspora. Through diverse voices and perspectives, the stories reveal how memory, loss, and cultural inheritance intertwine, showing that the war’s impact endures not just in history books but in families, relationships, and everyday life. At the same time, the anthology emphasizes healing and reconciliation, suggesting that facing painful histories can lead to understanding and renewal. By refusing a single version of events, the collection protrays a multifaceted version of Vietnamese experiences, turning war literature into something deeply human, exploring belonging, remembrance, and the search for peace.
Published fifty years after the Vietnam war ended, The Colors of April, a collection of short fiction stories, explores the long lasting and widespread reverberations of the war. Including more than two dozen authors, the diverse collection brings together stories of characters that span multiple generations and colliding perspectives. Despite the variety of angles within the stories, there’s a consistency regarding the depiction of the war’s effect on the masses of people it touched.
The Vietnamese people that survived the war, those who fled or were displaced, and the generations born after the war, all encounter a kind of severance and yearning that are palpable and steady themes throughout the stories. Severance, whether from motherland, family, way of life, or the truth, as well as a yearning for what was or what could have been if not for the war are the shared experiences that connect the varied stories. The collection is successful at illustrating how sorrows continue long after the conflict has ended, and yet the interconnection between the diverse set of characters simultaneously inspires a sense of hope. The collection’s portrayal of a shared history between those physically and ideologically separated by war renders a kind of communion that makes The Colors of April worth reading.
The Colors of April The Colors of April is a book with several short stories by Vietnamese & Vietnamese American authors talking about the Vietnam war from their point of view in the form of fiction. I was delighted to get a copy of the book by Quan Manh Ha, one of the editors & translators. One of the stories was by familiar author Christina Vo who I did a Q&A with last year.
Favorite Stories Like many short stories, it’s like a Buffett, some are better than others. Though they were all unique. My favorites thought was the first one taking place at a Catholic Convent. The second one after that was also a favorite because it was about a Vietnamese woman returning home and she encourages the male passenger next to her to pursue love because not many people get a second chance at pursuing love. The Banyan tree I enjoyed the magic in there at the end. Christina Vo’s story was good. It was these short stories that I think would work out great for a full-length novel. The Colors of April will be available on March 25th! I look forward to doing this Q&A with you Quan!
This is a thoughtful collection that invites readers to see Vietnam as more than a battlefield, focusing instead on the enduring human stories behind the headlines. While individual stories may vary in their appeal based on personal preference, and certainly not all stories resonated equally with me, I appreciated the range of voices and styles, and the overall balance of the anthology. The stories are masterfully curated to create a complex and evolving portrait of Vietnam, tracing its journey from the turmoil of war to its emergence into a rapidly changing world. There is also a thoughtful balance between themes of loss and hardship and those of resilience, love, and hope. Having had the chance to read some of these stories in their original Vietnamese, I can attest that the translations mostly did their best to remain faithful to the essence of the works.
I bought an uncorrected ARC of this book on ebay.com because I grew up while the war was raging in Vietnam. I remember my parents were deeply distressed as the draft continued while my oldest brother was of draft age at the end of the war. As for me, having many classmates and acquaintances growing up who were 'boat people', I've never taken the time to study the culture further. All the books about the war I have seen are written by American veterans and historians. It is great to read a book about this war by the Vietnamese themselves to get a different perspective on the war and history. The stories are well selected, giving me some new ideas about the Vietnamese and the diasporic Vietnamese in the US when they recount their war and postwar stories. I believe reconciliation and healing are what this book is aiming at.
Reaching the final page after voraciously reading all 28 stories in "The Colors of April" left me with a powerful mix of emotions: heart-wrenching nostalgia and a touch of melancholy. I felt as though I wasn't just reading, but traveling back in time, guided by the richly woven tapestry of the war and its enduring aftermath, a tapestry made of multi-colored threads of experience and pain. I hope the collection's exploration of these scars might inspire a path towards more tolerant perspectives and true reconciliation, bridging deeply-seated divisions.
I was particularly impressed by "A Vietnamese Arriere-Boutique" by Kevin D. Pham and "A Small Dream for the Year 2000" by Ngô Thế Vinh.
Thank you to all the esteemed authors and editors for brightening my days and reminding us to live in a way that reduces suffering and seeks true peace. Dalat, May 21, 2025
The Colors of April affirms efforts, however painful or slow, to make peace with the past. Notably, the anthology features characters mostly absent from previous narratives about Vietnam, such as hopeful queers, enterprising beauty queens, literally flaming graffiti poets, autonomous war orphans, nuns and monks, and self-directed Amerasians. Ultimately, the anthology accentuates the powerful role that literature can play as both a scholarly and political tool, celebrating the humanity often effaced in the tumults of war.
- Brody Smith Book Review Published at The Southeast Asian Review of English
I received an ARC and was very much looking forward to reading it because I had some Vietnamese friends back in the 80s who came to the US as refugees. This book has shown me what the Vietnamese experienced after the Americans left in 1975 and how the Vietnamese communists and the refugees remember the war. My favorite stories are In Silence, In Rain; American Grass; The Blood Lily; The Immolation; and Night. I highly recommend this book if you want to get a different perspective on the Vietnam War.
This book is a collection of stories and experiences shared by those who suffered or endured from the long Vietnam War. The voices belong to those who stayed and the ‘boat people’ who escaped the post-war , challenged Vietnam. They are witnesses bearing their hearts or descendants questioning the decisions of elders . It’s painful and hopeful .
Gorgeous prose and devastating imagery combine to make this collection massively worth reading, especially as a young american who's only previous knowledge of the Vietnam war came exclusively from American perspectives, most of that being clear propaganda.
there's some very talented writers between the covers of this anthology! I'll review a story I especially like. The Return...... It concerns a young Thai man who was born & raised in the united states. Tony dreams of visiting Thailand and scours the travel section of the local newspaper. He excitedly makes plans for his visit, but worries what his father, who fled the country during the war will think of the pilgrimage. Tony tells his father not to worry, that he will only be gone a few weeks. He is intent on visiting Ha Noi.This really confuses his father, who was from south Vietnam. However, once he actually makes the journey he realizes he has fallen in love with the country and decides not to return to the states
The end of the Vietnam War will reach its 50 years in 2025, and it’s time to reflect not only on the past but on the journey of healing that continues today. The stories in this book, told from diverse perspectives, offer readers some snapshots of the post-war lives of those affected.
After half a century, those who experienced the war may want to look back with a mind at peace, while those who are newer to its history could have their own evaluation of its post-war life through fictional writing. This reflection is not a remembrance; it could be taken as a step forward in understanding and growth.