All the Wrong Places: Adrift in the Politics of the Pacific Rim Book

The title of this book is a bit facetious. Far from always being in the wrong places, James Fenton (a South East Asia correspondent for several major British and American publications) seems always to be in the right places for some good reportage literature. He was in Saigon when it fell (one of the last journalists to remain in the city when the North Vietnamese army pulled closer) and in the Philippines when an angry mob forced the Marcoses out of power. In between, he got a taste of the Khmer Rouge (only just avoiding a potentially lethal run-in), make trips into enemy-occupied territory in Vietnam, see Imelda Marcos play-act faith in her soon-to-be-deposed husband, and hang out with monks and die-hard Marxist guerrillas in the middle of a revolution. In other words, Fenton saw history being made, and he describes it in a way that makes you feel like you are witnessing it for yourself. His reports of rebellion and looting are powerful and evocative; so are his descriptions of 'quieter' episodes, such as the time he spends at a Cambodian monastery, or the eerie peace that ensues after the apparently ferociously well-behaved North Vietnamese soldiers take Saigon. He has quite a gift for setting a scene and adding humorous touches, capturing the atmosphere of the events he witnessed like a well-shot film. So as a first-hand account of some major episodes in twentieth-century South East Asian history, All the Wrong Places is very successful.

Sadly, the book has its flaws. The one that bothered me most was the near-total failure to place the major events in a historic context or background. In the Vietnam part of the book, Fenton drops a lot of names without any attempt at explaining who these people were or what role they played in the conflict. Written nearly two decades after the end of the Vietnam War, this part of the book really could have done with some background information for the benefit of those of us who were too young to follow the war when it was being fought -- or even those who did pay attention at the time. I doubt many people now recall the minor players in the conflict.

It could also be pointed out here that Fenton is a little too self-indulgent for his own good. Thankfully, his self-indulgence is of the wry British variety which I don't mind too much. There's a fair bit of humour in his writing, but slightly greater objectivity would not have gone amiss.

Finally, I felt the various parts of the book ended too abruptly. I would have liked to hear more about what happened after the events described, both to Fenton himself and to the people he meets on his travels. A greater attempt at proper introductions and endings and smoother transitions would have been much appreciated.

All in all, I give the book three and a half stars, rounded down to three.

(And for those of you who are wondering why I'm not referring to the South Korean part of the book: I can't comment on it because it wasn't included in the (very bad) Dutch translation I read. Note to any prospective Dutch readers of this book: steer clear of the translation, which is so literal it will make your eyes bleed. Stick to the original instead and I daresay you'll find it an enjoyable read.)