I received The Foreigner: A Novel by Francie Lin from Librarything.com’s early reviewer program.
Just in time for China’s Olympic glory, this crime noir takes the reader to Taiwan. Lin does a great job of guiding the reader through the streets of Taipei and showing us the underbelly that most tourists will never see. This is her debut novel, and she often switches between the hardboiled-crime prose one would expect in a thriller when she handles plot and dialogue, and a more poetic literary style when writing about setting and the inner thoughts of Emerson, the protagonist.
The plot focuses on Emerson’s return to Taipei from the US after his mother dies. He must find his estranged brother, Little P, and settle his mother’s will and last wishes. It is evident very early in the novel that Little P is involved in some shady business with some unsavory characters. The plot is fast-paced and keeps the reader turning the pages. Emerson, who is overly naive and idealistic, is suffering an existential identity crisis. He dos not speak Chinese fluently, and without his mother and his childhood home (the family hotel), Emerson is lost in the world. He struggles to find some connection with his brother, the only person left in the world who shares some memories of Emerson’s past. Little P is elusive and dubious, and Emerson makes critical mistakes dealing with his cousins, Little P’s business partners. Lin throws in commentary on western tourists and the politics of Taiwan.
The novel is good as crime fiction and the fact that it is set in the Asian crime world makes it somewhat unique. However, it has a few flaws. Most readers will figure out what is going on long before naive Emerson gets it, which makes Emerson’s bumbling towards the end a little annoying. He simply fails to ask himself some pretty basic questions about situations and the actions of other characters, which makes the reader ask “Why doesn’t he just…?” too many times. This makes his final transformation and realization a little too sudden and unrealistic.
As I mentioned, Lin switches between two writing styles: crime and literary. I got the impression that she has literary ambitions (identity dilemma, Cain and Abel allusion, poetic prose), but also wants to sell copies, hence the mystery-crime plot. I imagine that loyal readers of crime novels will find the literary style overwritten, and literature readers, like myself, will find the characters underdeveloped and the plot pulpy.
It was an enjoyable read, but not mind blowing. I can see a film noir version. Personally, I’d like to see Lin develop her literary ambitions and give us another Taipei novel focusing on character in that beautiful prose of hers.
When Alexander Solzhenitsyn spoke at Harvard in 1978, he brought to the podium a stranger’s vantage point that allowed him to glaringly see the House of America’s flaws in a way that the householders, spoon-fed on effortless comfort, could not. Those trust-fund kids who booed him were unworthy to unlace his Russian felt boots.
Solzhenitsyn was right. In its lust for superficial trivia, our culture has lost not only courage and willpower but also its awe of true heroism.
Eighteen months ago, Anna Nichole Smith died. She was a minor actress who would be alive today if she hadn’t taken prescription drugs in dangerous combinations. For weeks thereafter, she was in the news every day.
Two months ago, Tim Russert died. He was the narrator for the NBC program Meet the Press. Anyone who chose not to watch Meet the Press might not have known who he was. Yet for a week after his death, on all the TV channels it was all Tim all the time.
Two days ago, Alexander Solzhenitsyn died. He survived eight years in the Gulag and a bout with cancer, and he came forth shining like refined gold. He was unafraid to lay truth before power, and his words helped change the course of history. Yesterday I listened to an hour and a half of my local Christian radio station’s morning talk show. Not one word was mentioned of this great man’s life or passing.
This generation desperately needs people like Solzhenitsyn to live their lives before us and exemplify true heroism. Good luck finding such people in this country.