Fiction as a platform for insight, even truth, is often a better vehicle than fact. That is certainly demonstrated by this fascinating novel set in Vietnam before the disastrous escalation of direct American involvement in the war.

The country is a travel destination again. But it is not necessary to board a jetliner to get there. Through Louisa Trigg's enticing descriptions of the lush countryside and the interplay of her comely characters, we can revel in the beauty of its enigmatic vistas even as we see calamity coming. Along the way we will gain some understanding of just how tempting such a place can be to a country striding across the world stage on the wings of noble purpose fueled by the oats of invincibility. It is an exotic realm like those to which adventurers of great empires of all ages have been magnetically attracted.

"The Real Dragon" commences during the military Coup against Ngo Dinh Diem in November 1960 and moves on to the following year. We are given a beguiling cast of characters with whom to identify. Among them is Katherine Gregory, perhaps an imaginary reflection of the author, married to an American AID official. Level-headed, sensitive, caring, and slightly yearning, she is an anchor for the story. Katherine's husband, Jeff, a serious, hard-working civil servant, remains largely in the background. Through Katherine we bump up against many prototypes populating the impending tragedy of Vietnam-Americans, Vietnamese, French, British, Viet Minh, Viet Cong, street kids, missionaries, diplomats, the military, intellectual savants, kibitzers, and ordinary folk. As I read the book, I alternated between affinity for the ambitious young diplomat, Mark Gardiner-efficient, stiff, loyal, politically correct-and Joe Ruffin, a novitiate medical missionary still feeling his way. Joe combines naive American do-gooding and precocious adventure-seeking in an exotic setting far removed from his Southern roots. They both fall in love with Allison Giraud, a sophisticated young American widow whose French plantation-owner husband has been killed by the Viet Minh. When they all go off for a weekend at the Ambassador's villa at a mountain resort, where the story reaches its zenith, we soon become aware of the cultural, social, and historical entrapments which are destined to bring on catastrophe.

There is an undercurrent of sensuality, enhanced by impending danger, throughout the book and one outlandish incident which almost turns the story into farce. Yet that malapropos event captures the essence of the tale: the irrational, absolute absurdity of a Vietnam where dragons lurking in the bewitching shadows await to turn allure into debacle.

If you are up to going back to Vietnam, in reprise of the American involvement and the lure of its tantalizing snares, this may be the book to take you there in the pleasant company of Louisa Trigg's fetching companions.