3.5, rounded up. A sequel to Nguyen's Pulitzer-prize-winning [book:The Sympathizer|23168277], with which it shares some of the same strengths and weaknesses. Here, the Sympathizer, aka Crazy Bastard, has survived a Viet Cong reeducation camp and an Indonesian refugee camp to wash up in Paris in the early 1980s, adopting the disguise of a Japanese tourist to sell hashish and heroin to haut-bourgeois Marxists as an accomplice of a Vietnamese exile organized crime and prostitution syndicate, based in "the worst Asian restaurant in Paris," in the midst of an escalating turf war with an Algerian drug-trafficking network.

Lots of half-clever in-jokes along the way: a thinly-veiled version of the insufferable French TV intellectual Bernard-Henri Lévy appears as a character named BFD, and one of the main clients is an aging soixante-huitard known as "The Maoist PhD."

But the promotional copy is overselling this as a postmodern "intellectual thriller," with shades of Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs and Jean-Pierre Melville's Le Cercle Rouge. Really, this is a work of postcolonial theory scaffolded with allusions to classic action movies, but you really have had to have taken a graduate seminar to closely engage with these ideas, let alone find them enjoyable.

Like The Sympathizer, The Committed needed an editor to prune away 100 pages or so, and having a Pulitzer means having final cut. But rather than baroque plotting, this one is overstuffed, far past the bursting point, with exhaustive (and exhausting) ruminations on the ideological impact of French colonialism in Indochina, Algeria, and Africa, as characters (and the narrator) stop the action for lengthy disquisitions on Frantz Fanon, Aimé Césaire, Althusser's Repressive State Apparatus, Adorno, Derrida, Gramsci, and Julia Kristeva.

Still, The Committed is a master class in narrative voice and unreliable narrativity, as Nguyen channels the inner monologue of a divided and fracturing consciousness. The Crazy Bastard is a passive protagonist, running in recursive looping spirals of reliving past traumas from the previous novel (which I should probably have reread first), haunted by the ghosts of the men he's killed before, and facing the dilemmas of communism vs. capitalism, the ridiculousness of French racism and the futility of postcolonial liberation, with a nihilistic shrug. And as our narrator's consciousness fragments and downshifts from the first into the second person, the whole impossible machine just derails in the denouement, set in a strange limbo between life and death.

Thanks to Netgalley and Grove Atlantic for providing an ARC, in return for an honest review.

I am once again in awe of Viet Thanh Nguyen's writing, wordplay, and his ability to pack so much into his prose. The writing and narration style changes somewhat in this book, and there's several places where second person narration and page long run-on sentences are used. These devices are used to illustrate the altered mental state of the Captain following the events in THE SYMPATHIZER. I can see how these could be a turn off for other readers, but I felt that they did a good job at depicting the character's instability.

THE COMMITTED expounds on many of the same themes as THE SYMPATHIZER, but with a greater emphasis on colonialism with France as the backdrop. In a way, THE SYMPATHIZER is like a 101 level university course, in that it lays down the foundational themes. In contrast, THE COMMITTED is an upper division course that digs deeper into the theory, while looking more closely at the nuances and contradictions.

If you loved THE SYMPATHIZER, THE COMMITTED is an excellent follow-up that is even more irreverent than the first.

Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for providing me an advanced readers copy of this book! I can't wait to get my hands on my pre-order when it comes out (March 2, 2021)! Stay tuned for my full review (at which time this post will be edited).

cw: drug and alcohol use, gang violence/murder, prostitution, suicide

Overall enjoyed Nguyen's revisiting of this excellent character. The writing is brilliant and worth savoring. Pitfalls are heavy though, with a plenty of regurgitation of concepts and ideas. A signficantly edited version could have truly been amazing.

I might be a minority among the readers of this book since I haven’t read The Sympathizer prior to reading this book. My brief introduction to Viet Thanh Nguyen is only through his collection of short stories The Refugees which paints the many faces of Vietnamese refugees in the United States. Now this book gives me a different flavour. Prior to reading this, I tried to read some synopsis of The Sympathizer to get a brief summary of Nguyen’s magnum opus which won him a Pulitzer in 2016.

The Committed tells the life story of the main character in the previous book, a nameless half-Vietnamese half-French who was a communist spy agent tasked to infiltrate the South Vietnamese Army. Our main character’s only weakness was to be able to see things from both perspectives in every situation, to sympathise with capitalist ideas. The duality of the main character is something that is often repeated throughout the story.

In France, our main character has just arrived in 1981 after leaving the refugee camp in Pulau Galang, Indonesia. While his previous job was as a spy, now he was forced to work in the underworld by becoming a drug dealer who sells hashish and remedy under the Chinese-Vietnamese community in Paris along with his blood brother Bon. However, it soon becomes apparent the conflict that our main character has, inside himself and in relation to the people around him. Nguyen begins changing the word “I” into “You” to describe the train of thought of our main character in the second half of the story, which shows the inner conflict as taking a different turn.

This work is a good commentary on many -ism in the 20th century: capitalism, Marxism, Nazism, feminism, colonialism, nihilism, existentialism, absurdism, you name it. As our main character often experiences inner conflict, this is a rather surrealist way to look at the thought of people with dual heritage, especially with regards to the decolonisation process. A former oppressor, France became a haven for Vietnamese who sought refuge from the communist takeover in 1975. It was colonisation itself that introduces Western thoughts, ways of living, so-called civilisation into the colonised countries. At the same time, it’s liberating, while also raping the colonised into a new way of living alien to them.

Actually, I got bored reading after around two-fifth of the story, as the intention wasn’t clear enough to me from the start of the story. Nguyen has the habit of quoting philosophers and modern thinkers here and there. This book is filled with quotes from Sartre, Camus, Fanon, Césaire, and even Marx. Sometimes they make the statements brought by each character stronger, while sometimes they form some propagandist way of thinking due to how often they are repeated (e.g. the notion of the need for violence asserted by Fanon). To me, it feels really surreal since it is hard to imagine that every character in this book could sound educated and cites philosophers here and there in normal conversations.

This book is “okay” to read if you are interested in the life of people with dual heritage, decolonisation process, with a bit of philosophy and spy action flavours. Nguyen’s work is an example of a good balance between inner conflicts and real-life actions. However, I’m not in the opinion that reading this book as a start is a good way of introduction to his works. The Refugees is in my opinion a good way to start, with lighter short stories that touch everyday life, to get to know the issues that are being brought by Viet Thanh Nguyen. And of course, I’d like to read The Sympathizer someday soon to answer the questions that are left hanging in my mind after finishing this book.

<i>”We were the unwanted, the unneeded, and the unseen, invisible to all but ourselves. Less than nothing, we also saw nothing as we crouched blindly in the unlit belly of our ark. . . Even among the unwanted there were unwanted, and at that some of us could only laugh.”</i>.

Reading Viet Thank Nguyen’s <i>The Committed</i> brings to mind multi-layered Matryoshka dolls and the iconic scene in Orson Welles 1947 noir, <i>Lady from Shanghai</i>, with Rita Hayworth and Everett Sloane shooting at each other in a hall of funhouse mirrors. <i>The Committed</i> contains textual layers upon layers: read now, it’s a shoot-em-up bang-bang noir gangster potboiler; read again, it’s an intellectual treatise on race, identity, colonization, and the dialectics of revolution; read some more, it’s a bro-romance and a dirge for broken lives lost loves, and shattered homelands. Fully understanding and appreciating the complexity of <i>The Committed</i> requires more intellectual flexibility than I can summon. It’s 1981, and the thirty-six year old Crazy Bastard (AKA Le Chinois, AKA Vo Danh, AKA Joseph Nguyen) and his blood brother, Bon, arrive in Paris from a Vietnamese re-education camp via a two year stay at the Galang refugee camp in Indonesia, and ultimately on a flight from Jakarta. Paris, the birthplace of the Crazy Bastard’s father. Paris, the home to a sizable and politically divided Vietnamese community. The Crazy Bastard and Bon carry with them <i>”bags packed with dreams and fantasies, trauma and pain, sorrow and loss, and, of course, ghosts. Since ghosts were weightless, [they] could carry an infinite number of them.”</i> The Crazy Bastard —proud graduate of Occidental College — and Bon earn their way by cleaning toilets in a Chinese restaurant owned by the Boss, managed by his field marshal, Le Cao Boi, and staffed by the Seven Dwarfs. The Crazy Bastard expands his domain beyond cleaning restaurant toilets by peddling hashish to leftist Parisian intellectuals, disguising himself as a Japanese tourist. And of course, the Crazy Bastard being the Crazy Bastard, he doesn’t know whether he’s communist or capitalist, friend or foe, faithful or faithless, or all simultaneously or serially.

<i>The Committed</i> is a sequel to Viet Thanh Nguyen’s splendid <i>The Sympathizer</i>: it stands alone as a novel, and can be appreciated by those who haven’t read <i>The Sympathizer</i> or those, like me, who read it only upon its publication in 2015. This reader sometimes found himself lost between and among the many layers and mirrors in <i>The Committed</i>. <i>The Committed</i> is a <i>Fantasia</i> of a novel, although a <i>Fantasia</i> co-directed by Quentin Tarantino and Guillermo Del Toro. After all, how often do you find Louis Althusser, Walter Benjamin, Andre Malraux, Max Horkheimer, Che Guevara, Karl Marx, Vladimir Lenin, and Ho Chi Minh mentioned in novel alongside characters named Sleepy, Shorty, Biggie, Angry, Smelly, and Lousy?

I would like to thank NetGalley and Grove Press for providing me an ARC of <I>The Committed</I>

3.5 stars

Our revolutionary returns in this immediate follow-up to "The Sympathizer"; if you haven’t read that one first, you’ll be able to follow this sequel, but its most significant moments will have less of an impact. Assuming we’re all on the same page, however, the story very much continues right where the first novel left off.

Our narrator now has a name—Vo Danh, “nameless” or “anonymous” in Vietnamese—and he has traveled to Paris with his blood brother Bon both as a refugee and an expat, feeling no longer fully Vietnamese or American. This focus on Vo Danh’s psyche takes up a lot of space throughout the novel: psychosis, dual psychology, psychic union, psychotic break, psychic killing, psychic clarity, and—if you’re not confused already—psychic obliteration and transcendence. A fixation on the principles and embodiment of nothingness, when a war between one’s dueling personalities and ideologies effectively cancels out both, makes this a deeply psychological and introverted novel.

But there is no shortage of excitement and action—my favorite moment being a single sentence that lasts seven pages as Vo Danh encounters Parisian muggers in a park—nor does it lack scathing cultural and philosophical critiques of colonialism, racism, and sexism, capitalism and communism, and sparring nationalities. In no way should this book have been appended to the first novel to make one complete story of enormous scope and keen granularity; this new novel deserves to stand on its own. But it really doesn’t differ much in terms of style, theme, content, or narrative surprise.

Nevertheless, this novel continues to establish Viet Thanh Nguyen as an author of inimitable quality, whose powers of scholarly research and cultural critique come across as convincing and organic in his characters.

Deeply disoriented and still recovering from his time in a Communist reeducation camp, Vo Danh takes up a career as a drug dealer for a Chinese gangster known as the Boss. The Boss has his hooks in everything from drugs and prostitution to import-export smuggling on the black market. Yet because of his past and his current psychosis, Vo Danh is the perfectly aloof and accessible character to expand the Boss’s drug market.

The premise being very direct, the novel’s events revolve around Vo Danh’s stages of self-actualization. This is a complicated progression, as shown in the titles of each section: “We,” “Me,” “Myself,” “I,” “Vous,” and “Tu.” Almost every character is susceptible to deep and recurring philosophical conversations with Vo Danh—heightened by perpetuating amounts of marijuana and cocaine—and many of these sections speak for themselves. As food for thought, they are valuable pieces of insight reminiscent of Plato’s dialogues; but as a way to propel the narrative, they tend to make it drag. Much of the middle of the novel felt this way, although it was often raunchy and hilarious enough to keep me going.

I also don’t want to fault the author for his style, because he combines the philosophical heavy-handedness with the rapid pace of storytelling so well that these occasional moments of stagnation are worth going through.

So despite some narrative snags, the author’s explorations of Nothingness does lead to considerable character development. Vo Danh grows out of his psychic despondency and embraces a peculiar but inspiring—even priestly—outlook: “I want to forgive the unforgivable.” Achieving this kind of zen, and saving it from falling into nihilism, is no easy feat consider all that Vo Danh goes through. But his personal journey is an incredible thing to witness—even if the reader must decide if it all, once again, is in his head.

Readers who were as enthralled with "The Sympathizer" as I was will find themselves at home in "The Committed." Great consideration is given at the end to what Vo Danh is committed to, which serves as an excellent note to end on.

Consistent in tone and style with its predecessor, this new novel is rich in philosophy and character. If the first novel planted the germ of revolution in your mind, then this follow-up is water for the seed.

This is a very unique novel with a gripping premise. There's a lot of great humor and the voice is strong and confident. The book wasn't an ideal fit for me, personally, as I felt sometimes the book went too deep into dense prose, and some of the plot felt a little too much like a genre thriller for my own taste. Overall though, I think many people will enjoy this book and if you're at all interested, it's absolutely worth giving it a try. The writer is clearly talented, just not the perfect fit for me.

This follow up to the incredible, pulitzer prize winning ,"The Sympathizer", is very much worth looking forward to. I feel I may reread upon publication as, at times, this novel of ideas and the duality of man was complicated to follow. Overall most of this book didn't engage me as much as his previous work, but then there were parts that were over the top outstanding. I would definitely recommend, especially to those interested in history, colonialism, and literary fiction that gets pretty meta at times. Thank you to the publisher for providing me with this drc available through netgalley.

THE COMMITTED is a noirish crime narrative in the guise of a confessional memoir, set largely in Paris and wrapped in a seminar on French political thought of the last century.. It is a compelling reading experience which commands attention and lingers, with echoes of Camus and Fanon, Algeria and Vietnam, entirely apt today, when commitment seems essential to survival.

This book follows the life of a Vietnamese "immigrant" known as Crazy Bastard or Vo Danh (Vietnamese for no name) and his best friend Bon as they become and remain members of a Vietnamese gang (as in gangsters/criminals) in Paris. On one hand the story is pretty straightforward. It follows the continual violence and libertinism of gang life (lots of both) in Paris, and also gives us the backstory of Crazy Bastard. He escaped to America, went back to Vietnam to try and overthrow the communist Vietnamese government, ended up in a re-education camp, and with his friend Bon escapes to Paris.
Crazy Bastard is secretly a Vietnamese communist spy and his friend Bon has dedicated his life to killing communists. Overlaying the tensions of gang life and the tensions that will come between Crazy Bastard and Bon are ruminations on colonialism, communism, capitalism, the nature of French so-called leftist intellectuals and the nature of the Vietnamese revolution itself. There is also quite a bit of mention of the work of Franz Fanon.
I liked the characters the author created, was unclear about the ending, and the story seemed to exist to prop up the ruminations. The writing is fairly strong, except where the author goes into stream of consciousness mode (twice), and in the end neither the story nor the ruminations on the nature of things were able to pull me up to say: yeah, wow!

A follow-up to THE SYMPATHIZER,the protagonist is now in Paris,and a drug dealing capitalist.IMO, the book is less novel/ thriller and more a comment on society-racial inequality,a struggle to assimilate in a new culture, the deleterious effects of colonization( in this case the French in Viet Nam),friendship and loyalty.
As with his first work, I did not find this book easy to read. It has page after page of incisive comments about society, religion, racial and gender inequality, and the reader must be fully “ committed” to parse and digest it all.

After the ending of "The Sympathizer", we get to see the main character escape from the re-education camp of the Vietnamese communist government to refuge in Paris with his blood brother, Bon. Here, the two get caught up in a local Asian gang, where they sell hashish to sustain themselves in the City of Light. The story is entwined with the protagonist's conscientious struggle, all while trying to come up with a plan that could save his friends and himself.

The harsh social and political condemnations are still the heart of the book in this sequel, but if in "the Sympathizer", our nameless narrator was living among the refugee ex-soldiers and trying to integrate into American society, here in France, he meets intellectuals, politicians from the same homeland, but equally hypocritical. The details are even more unhinged and chilling than the previous one. Crazy, for me, is probably the best word to describe this novel. Many social issues (from racism, sexism, feminism, to criminal crimes and of course humanity), continue to be actively discussed by the author throughout the book, in a way that most readers would have been familiar - with enthusiasm and criticism, a lot of them carrying rich historical, political, and literate points of view, following almost every turn of events.

It's clear that the impacts from the events in "The Sympathizer" has significantly affected our main character, both mentally and physically, hence the notable changes in the writing of Viet Thanh Nguyen. If you like the author's writing in the previous book, then you will probably love this one too. Personally, I find most of the narrative quite... messy, sometimes meaningless, but reaching the end, the reason for this writing style is pretty much clarified, one of them happens to be that it would match the narrator's mentality.

As a Vietnamese, if I'm being honest, it's extremely difficult for me to judge this book as objectively and properly as possible. So I'm not giving this any rating (if you see one, ignore it). Still, I'd like to thank Viet Thanh Nguyen for such a crazy reading experience.

In this electrifying sequel to his Pulitzer-winning debut, The Sympathizer, Viet Thanh Nguyen pursues the unnamed protagonist out of a Vietnamese re-education camp and into Paris, where he confronts the duality of his being anew: whereas he was torn before by his ideological diplopia—his cursed ability to sympathise with both sides of a conflict—he is now tortured by the fact that the "screw" separating his two personalities has come loose to a point where he can no longer separate them. While the first book covered the panoramic confessions of a racial bastard and communist double-agent in the Vietnam war and beyond; The Committed brings forward a "crazy bastard" on a quest to understand what he really believes in.

From the very outset, The Committed establishes itself as more of a novel of ideas than a thriller: the intensely lyrical and horrible opening conjures the image of slave ships, of refugee boats, and—yes—of Noah's ark. Disembarking in the capital of France, our narrator makes overtures to the land of his former colonisers by becoming a drug dealer for a newly established crime ring, but what sticks more than the plot is the incisive commentary on colonisation, la mission civilisatrice, "colour-blindness" and racial ill-treatment, ideological repression, the nature of revolution, and, surprisingly, even feminism and the subjection of women.

The philosophical shift from American duality to France and "nothingness" is palpable—the narrator often refers to Fanon, Cesaire, Sartre, Camus, and even Julia Kristeva—and delivered with characteristic punch and dry wit, making Nguyen's exploration of western chauvinism here rather enjoyable. There is much looking inwards too—Nguyen is as unsparing towards the divided Vietnamese and other subjects of coloniality as he is towards their oppressors; The Committed is also a tale of friendship and selfhood and how the two are intersected and bloodied by the forces of the world.

As with The Sympathizer, Nguyen writes here in a way that seems almost deliberately to avoid being immersive. Instead, the reader is forced to think and reflect at nearly every stage: on facts of history and how it is told to us; on identity, belongingness, and how ugly life is beneath all its charming veneers. The prose lilts and meanders often, but is complex in a way that works vigorously in its favour. I would recommend this especially for people who enjoy history and good writing, and while I may not read this again, but I will certainly not forget it.

I was so excited after I read The Sympathizer, I didn't even realize there was going to be a sequel. Viet Thanh Ngyuen is a star and super underrated in the sphere of modern Asian diaspora fiction.

Thank you Netgalley and the publisher for an advanced copy of Nguyen's novel. I do think that Nguyen is a leading brilliant contemporary writer. His experimental, genre-bending style, however, is not for me. I actually couldn't get through 'The Sympathizer' simply because I somehow didn't find myself interested in the narrator/protagonist. But I truly appreciate Nguyen's literary activism so I wanted to give its sequel 'The Committed' a try. I liked that the sequel delves deeper into the protagonist's life, which helped me understand him better. But unfortunately, something in Nguyen's style keeps the character distant. That being said, this is merely a matter of personal taste. I can see myself assigning 'The Committed' if I teach a course on postcolonial literature and/or global literature in the future. There's much to explore on identity politics and what it means to belong.

I took a great interest in ‘The Committed’ in part because of my work in 1978 and 1979 in reuniting Vietnamese families who had come to the US but were separated in different military bases. There was a network of us that worked nearly around the clock to help reunite the refugees.

‘The Committed’ takes place a few years later, in the early ‘80s, when we follow (the unnamed) “The Sympathizer” and his colleague “Bon” in Paris as they reconnected with family and try to assimilate into the French culture. There is also “Man”, a former best friend of “The Sympathizer” who was responsible for his reeducation.

I did not have the advantage of reading “The Sympathizer” before “The Committed”, so all we know is that “The Sympathizer” was a double agent, who, while living and studying in the US was reporting back to the Vietnamese. There are times in the book when he reflects back on these experiences, despite his reeducation by “Man”. We only get a brief glimpse of this part of the story, which takes place at the time of my personal work with relocating Vietnamese families.

Early in the book we see “The Sympathizer” settle in Paris, but the book really chronicles his life and that of “Bon” in the drug underworld. This was both sad and painful at times to read, but Nguyen’s storytelling was very effective at chronicling how “The Sympathizer’s” life unfolds in the drug culture of Paris.

The language is beautiful and it is such a pleasure to read, despite the sad and difficult subject. Nguyen has a very effective storyline that itself reinforces the terrible choice that “The Sympathizer” made.

After reading “The Committed”, I can see why Nguyen received a Pulitzer for “The Sympathizer”, which one should probably read first. “The Committed” is an excellent book, although it tells a difficult story, Nguyen has done it masterfully. I am going to go read “The Sympathizer” now to complete the story albeit backward. Read “The Committed”, as it is well done and tells an important part of modern history.

Thanks to the author, Grove Press, and NetGalley for the copy. I have voluntarily left this review.

How does an immigrant from a colonized nation try to gain identity and self-worth in the land of
the colonizer?
The answer - to some extent- is found here. In this work, a young Vietnamese man tries to make his way
in Paris in the harrowing aftermath of the war with the United States.
His ascent in dubious enterprises is well chronicled, as are his encounters with other immigrants as well as
left wing French intellectuals.

We hear the protaganist's inner thoughts while alone -- and while we see his actions with -- and for others.
There is much to like about this work -- the crafting of the inner dialogue, the descriptions of the protagonist's struggle with his "otherness" as he tries to find his place within society.

While the central concept of the story is refreshing and a new look at the issues that arise from being a
refugee in a nation like France; there's a nagging sense that we're being kept away from really "knowing"
the main character. It's difficult to tell if that's on purpose -- or just a matter of the style of the work.
Given that, there is a feeling of remoteness that settles over the reader, sense of being removed from the
story even as its moving forward.

There are also moments when the protagonist's world weariness or sarcasm feels like a crutch and
appears detract from the larger meaning within the book. All this being said, this is a unique novel that's
manages to entertain while also reminding us of what it takes to be fully human.

In <i>The Committed</i>, Viet Thanh Nguyen gives us a second volume of the “confessions” of an unnamed Vietnamese national who served both sides during the war and is now exiled in France trying to reconcile his past and plot out his future. As a sequel to <i>The Sympathizer</i>, the author’s Pulitzer Prize-winning debut novel, this volume continues the initial framing device that the narrator is burdened with the ability to see every position of any conflict—to sympathize with both sides, in fact—to the extent that he actually views himself as two different people. A central theme of this extension is that the “screw” in the narrator’s head keeping the two sides apart is gradually loosening to the point where he can no longer separate them.

Whereas the first book of confessions was panoramic in scope and covered a plethora of events that took place in multiple countries over an extended period, the action in <i>The Committed</i> is more narrowly focused on brief window of time when the narrator finds himself working in Paris as a drug dealer for a newly formed organized crime operation. This becomes an important distinction because, while it deals with many of the same important issues as the first volume (e.g., the adverse effects of colonialism, cultural ambiguity, immigration, political commitment), it lacks much of the original’s dark humor and the action portrayed in the sequel is not nearly as interesting or engaging. Stated a little more plainly, the new book works far less well as spy novel/thriller than its predecessor.

The more I read this book, the more I found myself disappointed by it. To be sure, Nguyen is a very talented writer with a wonderfully creative imagination. However, the level of philosophical discourse embedded in this story—which ranged from diatribes against colonial oppression to the communism vs. capitalism debate to the nature of loyalty and commitment—was so heavy handed that it thwarted the impact of an already thin plotline. Also, the stylistic decision to switch the narration from the first person to a second person version of the same individual (presumably done to emphasize the protagonist’s split personality) was clunky and ended up being quite grating. Finally, the story relies so completely on the reader’s understanding of events from the first book that it is difficult to regard it as a fully stand-alone work. Unfortunately, then, it is not possible for me to recommend this novel to anyone who has not already read and enjoyed <i>The Sympathizer</i>.

Beautifully written yet heavy tale of war, torture, identity and survival.

Let me start by saying that this was my first book by this author. Therefore, while it is a follow-up to the widely known and beloved novel The Sympathizer, I was completely new to the story. While I'm sure that there were some parts that I missed because of this, it wasn't something that would prevent me from understanding the plot or the backstory, which was subtly but thoroughly explained.

In The Committed, we read the story of a man who, having survived a reeducation camp in Vietnam AND a refugee camp in America, is living in Paris in the early 1980s, making a living as a dealer. Therefore, he transitions from being the communist Sympathizer to a capitalist.

It is definitely a heavy novel about heavy subjects, including war, torture, illegal migration, identity and survival. It is written in beautiful, lyrical prose, evoking intense emotions in the reader. I loved the writing, the poignant descriptions and character development, but perhaps I wasn't in the best position to fully appreciate the plot. I simply didn't have the full mental capacity or space to devour and appreciate this complex, heartbreaking tale.

*Thank you to the Publisher for a free advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

I deeply appreciate Nguyen’s activism and the way he uses his voice. This is a sequel to The Sympathizer and we are in Paris of the 1980’s with a good summary (that doesn’t feel like one) of the re-education camp and how it affected the characters. I found this narrative to be looser and more tangled than I’d like, but appreciated characters encountering unexpected obstacles to establishing new lives. I also found the main character’s struggle with being half-French and wrestling with a sense of belonging, complicity, allegiance, etc compelling. Nguyen has the ability to deliver social commentary and criticism and also inhabit a number of different world views that is the mark of a master.

Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC