I read this book back in August 2008, when I was was on the road around the central and northern reaches of Viêt Nam. This time I was sitting on a couch in District 1 of Hồ Chí Minh City. I ploughed through it too quickly; as before the first half was scintillating, while the second half, mostly focussed on life in America, was less interesting to me. Still, it is difficult to imagine a better account of immigration and identity.
This makes me want to read his more-recent account of his father's life.