Marti Leimbach

The author immediately engages the reader with her narrative skills. Though the topic is depressing, the book itself is extremely engaging. The reader knows that there will be tragedy, but how it actually happens is surprising. She is also skillful at character development. All three of the primary characters are complex and believable with strengths as well as flaws. Additionally, the political entities involved in the war are presented with both positive and negative actions. Thus a napalm show more burning suggests that the United States is at fault, but that report is balanced with a story about Viet Cong who carry children on their back to protect them from shootings.

The title is somewhat misleading, the focus of the book is on a female American journalist and her relationships with two men—one a native of Viet Nam, and the other also a journalist from the United States. From one of the beginning scenes that actually takes place before the journalist travels to Viet Nam, one begins to understand her journey as an independent female establishing her own identity. This process continues through the initial shock of the conditions in Viet Nam, to her capture by the Viet Cong, and subsequent rescue.

I highly recommend this novel for its presentation of the complexity of war and impact of culture and trauma on all people. It is timeless, even though the setting is Viet Nam, it could also describe the war in Iraq and/or Afghanistan. show less

Vaccines don’t cause autism. Unorthodox ideas don’t cure it. But autistic kids are real individuals with real families, and Marti Leimback’s novel convincingly evokes that reality with engaging humor and enthralling detail. The only way I knew this book was fiction, in fact, was from the way those details drew me to share the protagonist’s life rather than just hearing about it.

An American woman living in England, Melanie feels that slight detachment from reality familiar to expats show more everywhere. A fracturing marriage adds to the separation of real life from intended dreams. But her autistic child is even more detached, and Melanie fights to get the right treatment for him—treatment that might work—running the gamut of “was it the vaccine?” “will goat’s milk help?” and “please don’t lock him away in a school for no-hopers.”

Daniel isn't Talking isn't a personal experience story or a self-help book. In fact, it would probably be risky to use it for self-help as, among other things, it honestly explores the doubts a mother might have about the vaccines and the prognoses given her child. But it's an enthralling novel, filled with memorably characters, humor, pathos and hope. Its miracles are those small miracles of real life, and its message offers a hope worth pursuing, for mothers, wives, carers and children alike.

Disclosure: I picked it up at a book exchange because I have a relative with autism. show less

Leimbach gives us suspense, terror, fear, discomfort, revulsion, intrigue, romance, insight, emotion, and warfare with no Hollywood props. The Man from Saigon reads far more like pure literature than popular thriller. Its audience, therefore, will be those who prefer slower paced observations and internal thought. This is not a book for lovers of fast-paced, heart-beating, page turning, soon-to-be-turned-into-a-movie type of read. Leimbach's characters, their thoughts, actions, and story show more come to us as if in a dream. Her interesting sense of pacing the narrative is intriguingly designed, a bit slow, but very personal. The force behind the narrative comes through Susan Gifford, the female war correspondent, who is young, new to Vietnam, and - like all new reporters - out of her element. Although most of the internal thought within the book comes through Susan, the reader is often left feeling as though there must be more of her to know. She intrigues, but never quite allows the reader too close to her. On the other hand, the most mysteriously presented character, Hoang Van Son, is the more sharply drawn, the better presented, the one we feel we understand most at the end of the last page.

There was a time in the 1980s and even through the early 1990s, when books about Vietnam seemed hard to read. Perhaps it was too soon, the war not far enough back in time. That started to change when authors decided to explore the war, its people, and the effects in a different way. Leimbach's book is one of those efforts, and a very good one at that. Although much of the novel is centered on Susan's arrival and adjustment to the country and her job of reporting, and there is the obligatory romance with an American television reporter, and a deep friendship with her Vietnamese photographer, it is not until her fate is in the hands of the Vietcong, that the story really becomes what it wants to be all along. Leimbach is an excellent writer, an obviously very good researcher, and has a keen sense for nuance and the story beneath the story. Any lover of fine literature will enjoy The Man from Saigon. Leimbach will be watched for what she will write next. It will feel right if she stays on her dreamy, internal side as that is her strength. Regularly portrayed characters, expected scenes, and every day life and relationships are not her strength. She excels when stirring emotions around a thinking brain and letting her characters walk those out. show less

This is quite simply the worst book I've read about Vietnam. The author has never been to Vietnam and clearly did very little research on the subject. The title is misleading because the man referred to is not from Saigon, something that is alluded to early on in the book. Readers expecting to learn anything about Saigon, or even Vietnam in general, will be sorely disappointed because most of the action takes place in the jungle, following the capture of American journalist Susan Gifford and show more her Vietnamese photographer/translator Son by three North Vietnamese soldiers. And with the exception of them occasionally coming across a deserted hamlet or learning that the way the Vietcong manage to avoid stepping on land mines is by leaving coded messages for each other (i.e. tying grass a certain way, leaving a broken branch on a path etc.), it might have been any jungle. To make matters worse, the story is told in third person narrative which has the effect of distancing the reader even further from a story that isn't terribly engaging to begin with. The book is touted as a love story, but it fails short even on that level. You could pick up pretty much any other book about Vietnam and end up feeling much more satisfied that you will if you choose to read this one. Enough said. show less