Having spent a great deal of time in SE Asia, I picked up this book with some trepidation: since Michael Herr's brilliant "Dispatches" there have been an awful lot of derivative books about gung-ho boys with toys running around getting shot at during the Vietnam War. This though, was different. This does cover the war, and its effects on the region, but the slant is much more personal and thoughful. Swain realises that there is an entrenched culture of beauty and delicacy mixed with a near-veneration for death and auto-destruction. This book has come closer to understanding the people and culture of the area than any other book i can remember. The book's observations of the profound changes which the region has gone through is spot-on. More importantly, this is a love-letter to a lost land, to lost lovers and friends. The passion and deep romanticism are very moving. I can't remember the last time i read a book so sensitive and delicate.
If you want to understand what European hubris has done to world, you must read this. Is this travel writing? a love story? a war story? all of them, but it doesnt matter. Read this, and then tell your friends to read it too.