The VVA Veteran May/June 2010 : Page 37

ARare Literary In-CountryVietnam WarNovel by a VietnamVeteran (after page) of intimate descriptions of death and dismemberment. The book better compares to two 1978 semi-autobiographical Vietnam War nov- els, Better Times Than These byWinston Groom (an Army ROTC lieutenant who went on to writeForrestGump), andFields of Fire, the first novel written by James Webb (a former Marine lieutenant who is nowVirginia’s senior U.S. Senator). Both fol- lowthe more or less conventionalAmerican war novel formula, as does Marlantes’book. We look at a group of grunts from differ- ent backgrounds trying to stay alive and sane through the horrors of war and the madness of the military. This is potentially deadly literary terri- REVIEWS BY MARC LEEPSON ous in-country VietnamWar novel written by a Vietnam veteran. This first novel by Karl Marlantes, who served as a Marine lieutenant inVietnam, is a very long, com- bat-heavy, in-the-trenches war story that was thirty years in the making. It is told mainly through the eyes of what sounds like the author’s literary alter ego, the Ivy- League-educated protagonist, Marine Lt. Mellas. The book comes with much pre-publi- Matterhorn (Grove/Atlantic, 597 pp., cation hype, with the publisher comparing it to two iconicWorldWar II combat nov- els, Norman Mailer’s The Naked and the Dead and James Jones’s The Thin Red Line. Matterhorn has a lot incommonwith those books, particularly with Jones’s powerful, semi-autobiographical story of Marines enmeshed in sustained, bloody combat on Guadalcanal. That’s because Marlantes’ book also focuses on a com- pany of Marines and its seemingly never- ending months of bloody combat. In this case, the action takes place in and around a mountaintop fire support base called Matterhorn (probably standing in for the mountain known as the Rockpile near the DMZ). Vietnam and was a Rhodes Scholar) does many things well in this book. His charac- ters seem real; his dialogue rings true for the most part. The action scenes evoke VietnamWar combat at its most intense— and its most horrible, with page after page $24.95) is a 21st century rarity: a seri- tory, rife with the possibility of cardboard characters and predictable situations. Groom’s, Webb’s and Marlantes’ books all rise above the clichés, for the most part, to present powerful, evocative accounts of men in combat. Matterhorn suffers from the first novelist’s overuse of the labeling of emotions and a story that probably goes on about a hundred pages too long. But this is aworthy effort and a welcome addi- tion to theVietnamWar literary canon. OFF THE SHELF Mystery and Malice: TheManFrom Saigon BY DAVID WILLSON Marti Leimbach’s TheManfromSaigon (Nan A. Talese/Doubleday, 342 pp., $25.95) is unlike any of the hundreds of other Vietnam War novels I have read. Unlike most VietnamWar novels written by non-Asians, it contains a complex Vietnamese character, photographer Hoang Van Son. He remained a mystery at the end of the book, but that worked for me. In the back of the book, Leimbach details the research she did for this novel. That list includes the important books dealing with female Vietnam War correspondents. The main character is Susan Gifford, a female war correspondent, so it’s important that Susan be believable, and I think she is. The Man From Saigon is a “love is hard” novel, a theme Leimbach developed in her earlier books, if the reviews tell the truth. This book con- tains a lot of war-oriented excitement and it starts with a bang—actually, several bangs—when the helicopter in which Susan and Son are riding is hit by bullets. This high-level intensity occurs throughout the novel, espe- cially in the long central section in which Susan and Son are traipsed through the jungle as captives of three VC. The title is perfect for a Vietnam War novel. But when I finished the book, I was not certain if it referred to Son or to Marc Davis, Susan’s mar- ried TV correspondent lover. Nothing much is wrapped up at the end, but the trip is worth taking. The great pleasure for me was the author’s development of the rela- tionship between Son and Susan. Son speaks fluent English and French, as well as his native language, but sleeps on the floor of Susan’s hotel room and has no real job, since he lost the one he had due to his myste- rious comings and goings. I like mystery and malice in a war story, and there’s plenty of each. Leimbach is not a veteran, has never been in a war zone, and has never held a gun, but she gets the details of wartime Saigon right. I scrutinized the details related to Saigon—Tu Do Street, the heat, the FEMALES IN COMBAT Marlantes (who went to Yale before Tatjana Soli’s first novel, The Lotus Eaters (St. Martin’s, 389 pp., $24.99), also arrives with much pre-publication bombast, including bubbling blurbs from novelists Tim O’Brien, Robert Stone, and Richard Russo. What’s more, a favorable review (alongside a rave for Matterhorn) continued on next page MAY/JUNE 2010 37 sweat, the crowds, and their varied costumes—and found no false notes. I was stationed near Saigon from 1966-67, shortly before the TetOffensive, which is when this novel is set. I was skeptical about Leimbach doing as well as novelists who had been there, but she did fine, better than most. I plan to read her book, Roberto Hamster on a Mission, since the title intrigues me. Titles can have that affect.Ω DavidWillson is the author of the REMF Diary series ofVietnamWar nov- els. His article, “The REMF Diary on Dying,” appeared in the November/ December 2009 issue.

Book In Review

Marc Leepson

A Rare Literary In-Country Vietnam War Novel by a Vietnam Veteran Matterhorn (Grove/Atlantic, 597 pp., $24.95) is a 21st century rarity: a serious in-country Vietnam War novel written by a Vietnam veteran. This first novel by Karl Marlantes, who served as a Marine lieutenant in Vietnam, is a very long, combat- heavy, in-the-trenches war story that was thirty years in the making. It is told mainly through the eyes of what sounds like the author’s literary alter ego, the Ivy- League-educated protagonist, Marine Lt. Mellas. The book comes with much pre-publication hype, with the publisher comparing it to two iconic World War II combat novels, Norman Mailer’s The Naked and the Dead and James Jones’s The Thin Red Line. Matterhorn has a lot in common with those books, particularly with Jones’s powerful, semi-autobiographical story of Marines enmeshed in sustained, bloody combat on Guadalcanal. That’s because Marlantes’ book also focuses on a company of Marines and its seemingly never ending months of bloody combat. In this case, the action takes place in and around a mountaintop fire support base called Matterhorn (probably standing in for the mountain known as the Rockpile near the DMZ). Marlantes (who went to Yale before Vietnam and was a Rhodes Scholar) does many things well in this book. His characters seem real; his dialogue rings true for the most part. The action scenes evoke Vietnam War combat at its most intense— and its most horrible, with page after page (after page) of intimate descriptions of death and dismemberment. The book better compares to two 1978 semi-autobiographical Vietnam War novels, Better Times Than These by Winston Groom (an Army ROTC lieutenant who went on to write Forrest Gump), and Fields of Fire, the first novel written by James Webb (a former Marine lieutenant who is now Virginia’s senior U.S. Senator). Both follow the more or less conventional American war novel formula, as does Marlantes’ book. We look at a group of grunts from different backgrounds trying to stay alive and sane through the horrors of war and the madness of the military. This is potentially deadly literary territory, rife with the possibility of cardboard characters and predictable situations. Groom’s, Webb’s and Marlantes’ books all rise above the clichés, for the most part, to present powerful, evocative accounts of men in combat. Matterhorn suffers from the first novelist’s overuse of the labeling of emotions and a story that probably goes on about a hundred pages too long. But this is a worthy effort and a welcome addition to the Vietnam War literary canon. FEMALES IN COMBAT Tatjana Soli’s first novel, The Lotus Eaters (St. Martin’s, 389 pp., $24.99), also arrives with much pre-publication bombast, including bubbling blurbs from novelists Tim O’Brien, Robert Stone, and Richard Russo. What’s more, a favorable review (alongside a rave for Matterhorn)

Off The Self

David Willson

Marti Leimbach’s The Man from Saigon (Nan A. Talese/Doubleday, 342 pp., $25.95) is unlike any of the hundreds of other Vietnam War novels I have read. Unlike most Vietnam War novels written by non-Asians, it contains a complex Vietnamese character, photographer Hoang Van Son. He remained a mystery at the end of the book, but that worked for me. In the back of the book, Leimbach details the research she did for this novel. That list includes the important books dealing with female Vietnam War correspondents. The main character is Susan Gifford, a female war correspondent, so it’s important that Susan be believable, and I think she is. The Man From Saigon is a “love is hard” novel, a theme Leimbach developed in her earlier books, if the reviews tell the truth. This book contains a lot of war-oriented excitement and it starts with a bang—actually, several bangs—when the helicopter in which Susan and Son are riding is hit by bullets. This high-level intensity occurs throughout the novel, especially in the long central section in which Susan and Son are traipsed through the jungle as captives of three VC. The title is perfect for a Vietnam War novel. But when I finished the book, I was not certain if it referred to Son or to Marc Davis, Susan’s married TV correspondent lover. Nothing much is wrapped up at the end, but the trip is worth taking. The great pleasure for me was the author’s development of the relationship between Son and Susan. Son speaks fluent English and French, as well as his native language, but sleeps on the floor of Susan’s hotel room and has no real job, since he lost the one he had due to his mysterious comings and goings. I like mystery and malice in a war story, and there’s plenty of each. Leimbach is not a veteran, has never been in a war zone, and has never held a gun, but she gets the details of wartime Saigon right. I scrutinized the details related to Saigon—Tu Do Street, the heat, the sweat, the crowds, and their varied costumes—and found no false notes. I was stationed near Saigon from 1966-67, shortly before the Tet Offensive, which is when this novel is set. I was skeptical about Leimbach doing as well as novelists who had been there, but she did fine, better than most. I plan to read her book, Roberto Hamster on a Mission, since the title intrigues me. Titles can have that affect.Ù DavidWillson is the author of the REMF Diary series of VietnamWar novels. His article, “The REMF Diary on Dying,” appeared in the November/ December 2009 issue.

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