4.5, rounded up. This is not going to be for everyone, and reading it required greater focus and attention than anything else I've read this year. But the payoff was enormously satisfying.
I also realize that I'm one of the few people right at the middle of the Venn diagram for enjoying this novel: I'm a professional scholar in the history of philosophy, the Tang-dynasty poet Du Fu has been a lifelong inspiration to me, and I'm an absolute Hannah Arendt superfan. Since I already was familiar with most of the historical events and figures, and had a working knowledge of Thien's conceptual structures and theoretical framework, I could just sit back and let this wash over me.
But for many of you out there, this novel will probably sound like homework, or dramatized Wikipedia entries. And I'm not sure if a basic synopsis will convince anyone to pick this up.
Thien has piled up layer after layer of unwieldy elements, like a literary Jenga tower: near-future rising-seas cli-fi, extended philosophical ruminations and theoretical physics speculations on being and time, magic-realist speculations on past-life reincarnation, a tender broken family drama , richly-detailed immersive biographies of three great historical exiles, critiques of authoritarianism with Chinese characteristics, a purgatorial no-place where all spaces and times converge, the tensions between emotional truth and historical fact, optimal strategies in the game of Go, the problem of historical structures versus individual agency.
The novel is artfully structured, intercutting five different perspectives of one listener and four long-winded narrative voices. First, the adolescent Lina dutifully cares for her ill computer-scientist father, as they stop in a ramshackle floating city named The Sea to recover from their harrowing flight as climate refugees from mid-21st-century Foshan, China. This sprawling maze of retrofitted buildings are literally "made of time," welcoming travelers fleeing what appears to be a collapse of post-industrial societies amidst global warming, and appears to be a manifold connecting all times, spaces, and wanderers.
All that Lina owns are three books from a much larger set of "the lives of great voyagers," fictionalized children's narrative biographies of Du Fu, Baruch Spinoza, and Hannah Arendt. Her
three next-door neighbors in The Sea-- Jupiter, Bento, and Blucher-- appear to be incarnations of these historical figures, who seem to have transcended time and space to recount their harrowing experiences of exile, freedom of conscience, and personal trauma. These three stories are thematically interconnected, and figures from one timelines pop into the others for cameo appearances.
In the novel's middle section, Thien narrates the biography of Lina's father Wui Shin, a brilliant cyberspace engineer, his impoverished and orphaned childhood, his meteoric educational success, his collaboration with the reigning techno-surveillance regime in China, his (un-?)principled betrayal of the woman he loves, and his ultimate quest for redemption. This seemed much closer to a David Mitchell novella, but the shift in tone makes it more affecting, and lends color and weight to the other narratives.
I hope this will give you an idea of the novel's too-muchness, and there's a lot of disbelief to be actively willed away. Not everything works or meshes, especially the rushed pacing of the final section, where Thien has left too much of Du Fu's biography to shoehorn in. Sometimes the cerebral ruminations crowd out the narrative's emotional impact, and there were moments when I wanted to be feeling more than thinking.
Many thanks to W.W. Norton and Netgalley for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.