Set in Saigon, 1968, on the eve of Tet, the Vietnamese New Year, it's the middle of the Vietnam War and things are very tense. In the city, there are rumours flying, and alliances being tested, yet it's the murder of the colleague of an ex-Australian spy that sets off a chain of events that devastates lives and relationships, whilst the wider realities of war unfold.
Smith served his time as a Spy, he'd grown weary of the world of intelligence, jaded by the artifice, exhausted by the game. Yet he remains in Vietnam, the love of his life keeping him there, as much as a deep sense of ennui, despite the day to day danger. Which on one level makes the murder of his colleague an unexpected trigger to pull him back into the world of war, spies and espionage. But the murder happened right in front of him, the single word in a blood-stained notebook intrigued him, and ultimately he seems at such a loss for direction, it kind of makes sense that he'd step onto the path backwards.
As he pursues answers through the city, and out into the country-side, the aftermath of the war becomes even more obvious - with burned out villages, death and loss everywhere, and lies and fabrications left right and centre. Returning always to his small shabby lodging, his drugs, and the love of his life, local woman Tâm. The story of how they met, stay together, and live, intertwined with the reality of being normal people in a warzone forms a big part of this novel, as does the city and the complications of everyday life.
Alternating between a tense and very atmospheric telling of place, LAST DAYS OF THE LOTUS sneaks up and mugs the reader right to the very end. There's an ever present sense of real, slow-burning dread about this story, as it builds a picture of people struggling in the face of a vicious war, and those participating in the fight either driven by fervour for "their cause" or drowning in the moral fatigue of "theirs". A complicated character Smith is both beguiling and frustrating - a lost man in a rapidly imploding world, somebody who is both paranoid and incredibly naive. With a plot that's slow burning, and immersive, this isn't your classic spy thriller - there's moral ambiguity on all sides, and a real sense of some people dancing the dance without hearing any of the music.
That slow-burn dread comes with a cleverly pitched sense of inevitability and an invasive sense of the utter pointlessness of war imposed by others - fighting for territory, for righteousness, for power, influence, money, all of the standard reasons why some people are awful, others are lost, and the innocent casualties mount. It comes as no surprise that the author of this work is ex-Military, somebody who has spent time in Asia, who knows the places that he is writing about, as well as the scenarios.
There's a final twist to this tale, in what had been a particularly immersive reading experience. You will have to slow down, you will have to realise that the style is on purpose, and the descriptive tone exactly what is required. As is the first-person perspective, inviting the reader to see and feel this whole story of Smith and his Vietnam War from his perspective alone.
Last Days of the Lotus
Saigon, 1968, on the eve of Tet. The Vietnamese New Year draws near, and the city waits, restless and uneasy, the air thick with rumours of ceasefire and the taste of betrayal.
Smith has served his time in the secret world – an Australian case officer grown weary of the lies that pass for intelligence, and the loyalties that dissolve at first suspicion. When a colleague is murdered and leaves behind a single word in a blood-stained notebook, Smith finds himself drawn back into the game he thought he’d abandoned.
The trail leads him through bars, alleys, and burned-out villages, deeper into a war that has already devoured truth and loyalty, where every debt must be paid.
As the city slides towards chaos, Smith must decide what is worth saving and what must be left behind.
In the tradition of The Quiet American and The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, Last Days of the Lotus is a taut, atmospheric novel of espionage, moral fatigue, and slow-burning dread. It is, ultimately, a requiem for the idea of victory.
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