When I read Perfume Dreams I got the sense that Lam wrote all these articles at different times, and independently, later gathering them into a book. Read together the articles are a bit redundant, although each article does have something unique to it.
The writing style isn't really my cup of tea but he does do beautiful things with language.

As the son of a vietnamese refugee in France, the topic of this book was obviously appealing to me, though it focuses more on the vietnamese diaspora in the USA. Literature about the aftermaths of the Vietnam War for the southern (losing) side remains scarce and so far I know, the authors generally speaking from an american or north-vietnamese/communist narrative.

I do no think, that a similar book has ever been written about the vietnamese diaspora in France (though France is, if I am not wrong, hosting the second largest vietnamese community in the West, after America) and it was therefore even more relevant for me to read this book, to be able to compare with my own experience both diasporas. Though, the two of them find their roots in the defeated south vietnamese republic, their natures remain different, due among other things to the different paradigmas of both host countries (american "communautarism" vs french "assimilationism"), but also to the fact that unlike the USA, France did not host as much veterans of south vietnamese army, but rather people from the civil society. Some also say, that the presence of a strong communist party in France prevented the formation of an organized south vietnamese front against Hanoi's regime.

To the book itself, it was a pleasant reading: quite short, but well structured, though I do not necessarly share the views of Andrew Lam about identities (I am far from being a "cosmopolitan"). This last point, however, does not constitute the core of the book and I rather focused on similar experiences (the "loser" narrative, family members living in the past and dreaming of a country that does not exist anymore, the struggle to make oneself a place in the host country, the traumas of war and exile), but also on differences (for example the strong desire of revenge of vietnamese-americans is not as widely spread or not as expressed by french vietnameses, or the rejection for the host country, similar to the one of Andrew Lam's father, hardly exist, french society being quite demanding for assimilation, or the absence in America of this schism between the first wave of vietnamese immigrants in 1954 who chose France at the end of the colonial time in the one hand, and the second wave after 1975 and the fall of the South, both generations facing mutual misunderstandings or even sometimes mutual disdain).

For some reasons, I found this book to be a very additional lecture to two other books:
1) "Vietnam: A portrait of its people at war" from David Chanoff, that also deals with the aftermaths of the vietnamese civil war (and not only with memories from the battlefields), seen from the "winning side" (Northern Vietnamese and southern communists).

2) "Vietnam: Rising Dragon" by Bill Hayton, since Andrew Lam approaches in one of the last chapters modern Vietnam, a new society, a new generation and different problems, far from those, our parents, citizen of the former South Vietnamese Republic experienced, but also way different from the western vision of Vietnam, made either of war images or idealized as a traditional and rustic asian society. The book from Hayton will go further in details on this topic and depict you a portrait of modern Vietnam.

It took a while but I made it!

A collection of essays on being a member of the extensive Vietnamese diaspora and the complicated emotions that accompany it. Lam writes emotively but simply, and I related to a lot of the content despite it being 20+ years old. The stories that resonated with me the most were The Stories They Carried (how the UNHCR’s 1993 distinction between political and economic refugees to “solve” the southeast Asian refugee crisis wreaked havoc on the Vietnamese detainees stuck in between) and Love, Money, Prison, Sin, Revenge (Vietnamese refugees caught up in crime and at risk for deportation; how displaced Vietnamese deal with their sense of loss in a new world).

What I will note, though, is that Lam’s experience is different from that of many Viet refugees—his father was a celebrated general so he grew up well-nourished even for Vietnamese wartime standards, and he came with the first wave of immigrants, who were associates of the American forces, so more educated and well-off, having the social capital to start over with more ease. Not at all to say that his family didn’t struggle, which they did. It’s just different from the second and third waves, during which many in the Vietnamese American community arrived.

This was a fascinating collection of essays from a former refugee of the Vietnam war, detailing his struggle for identity in a culture completely different from the one of his youth.

Found out that my grandfather and the author’s father were friends while reading this book. Neat.

Interesting. I liked the stories better than the cultural commentary.

I am not an impartial judge of this one, because it brought back so many memories of my time spent with Laotian immigrants. There are differences, but it doesn't changes some powerful similarities that have all of my emotions stirred.

That being said, I am still pretty sure that it is well-written. Some of the essays are quite long and others are short, but they are written with insight and sensitivity and occasionally humor, despite still often being emotionally devastating.

This is a book any Vietnamese first generation child should read. This book illuminated a lot for me about my parents and the culture they were raised in. It also gave me a sense of relief that there were other Vietnamese Americans growing up to be artists and creative persons. I could very much relate to what he was talking about.

3.8 not perfect but absolutely bodies viet thanh nguyen’s shit

HEARTFELT
Lam's writing is deeply moving. Going beneath an often impenetrable silence Lam reincarnates with passion, not only for himself and his family, but for many others as well, what it `feels' like to be an immigrant in America from Vietnam.

The stories are touching and genuine; the burning of the family memoirs and photos... painful. Trying to assimilate in American culture by telling wartime stories to assume popularity with classmates...tear-jerking, along with his first act of betrayal asking his brother, "Are you sure that's what you want me to say?" ...I had to laugh here however... reminded me so much of something I would have done/asked. And then the others; the Nguyen brothers, the long tearful flux of stories pouring from the detention center in Hong Kong, and his grandmother in the convalescent home... loved her however.

Tremendous & heartfelt writing. And indebted to the passage,' "Home is portable if one is in commune with one's soul. ...For mine is a landscape where Saigon, New York, and Paris intersect, where the Perfume River of Hue flows under the Golden Gate Bridge." Astonishing. Outstanding!

I said in a previous review that one of the themes of my reading is about what happens when we try to bring gods into concrete human reality. Another theme is about conflicts between modern, post-modern, and traditional in national/cultural communities. A couple years ago, i saw a performance (can't remember the name of the group) about global citizens who were at home everywhere but yet had no home anywhere, who resided in between cultures and places. It was simultaneously lonely and infinitely connected. I related on a certain level.
Authors like Khaled Hosseini, Jhumpa Lahiri, and Andrew Lam write about these experiences--I'd say with a perfect mix of joy, sadness, and a floating tinge of alienation and maybe-not-quote-belongingness. I don't claim that my experiences are similar, but the struggles they write about resonate with some of my own struggles with connection and disconnection from the rural, anabaptist religious culture I grew up out of.
I've heard Andrew Lam speak and write about the Vietnam of his childhood, the Vietnam of Vietnamese expatriate communities in San Jose and elsewhere, and the Vietnam he sees when he returns to visit and write. Lam has an excellent grasp of the complicated emotions and contradictions, the connections and disconnections, the ridiculousness and seriousness of his experiences -- and he writes about it in ways that resonate.
This book surprised me. I wanted to learn more about diasporas, about Vietnam, about emigration and immigration, and I did. But deeper than that, I also learned (to the point of tears) about commonality and resonance along with the difference between my life and Andrew Lam's writing. And that's gifted writing.

I've now read two works of Andrew Lam and he is an excellent writer whether it is in fictional prose in his short story collection or nonfiction essays as in this collection. His style sucks you into the world of it and you want to know more.