I basically read this in a 24 hour span, couldn't put it down. ( )

Nell Freudenberger’s career to date reads like a novel in itself, with her Harvard education, slinky good looks, New Yorker publication, famous literary agent, and mentions in Vogue and Elle. It is a letdown, of sorts, to find that her debut novel is such a banal affair. The Dissident tells the story of Yuan Zhao, an exiled Chinese artist who comes to live with the Traverses, a Southern Californian family that is a Woody Allen-style parody of shallow Beverly Hills life. The dramatis personae include an absent-minded writer father, a sexually unsatisfied homemaker mother, two surly teens, and a Chinese-American student who— surprise!—is authentically talented. Hijinks ensue, secrets are revealed, lessons are learned, etc.

This is, to put it mildly, well-trodden territory. To be fair, Freudenberger is a crisp stylist, and she effortlessly captures the tics and mannerisms of these feckless Californians, as observed by the bemused Yuan in his role as cultural ambassador. Freudenberger’s observational powers and way with a phrase only go so far, however, and as pleasant and absorbing as it is, The Dissident imparts no impact: it practically evaporates upon completion.

From THE BROOKLYN RAIL, November 2007 ( )

A book with a few good moments and an interesting 1st person narrative about the history of avant-garde artists in communist China, but that ultimately builds to a climax that leaves the reader wondering, "Really? That's what it was all about?" Very disappointing.

It's obvious Freudenberger spent all her time researching and developing the character of the Dissident himself, as anything dealing directly with his past is quite interesting and compelling. Ironically, though, all the American characters, whose lives and culture Freudenberger should be fully conversant in, read like reject cliches from the film American Beauty. They are so bad and one-dimensional, in fact, that even the Dissident's character begins to suffer and flatten out any time he comes into contact with them, which, sadly, comprises half the book.

Recommendation: Read all the 1st person PoV chapters. Leave the rest alone. ( )

Excellent writing, appealing characters (especially Cece, for no reason I could put my finger on), an inventive twist, a convincing setting: this is a very good novel by a talented author. The narration swaps back and forth between first person (the eponymous dissident) and third limited (Cece, her sister-in-law Joan, her brother-in-law Phil), which I found slightly jarring at first but fine once I recognized the pattern.

Quotes:

...we didn't want to know the truth about each others' situations. We wanted to imagine that paradise existed just outside the gates of our own lives. (52)

They couldn't stand to fail. Even to succeed wasn't enough, if the success wasn't spectacular. (98)

However, there are various types of lies: an outright attempt to deceive another person is different from a story that feels true, and only needs to be translated into another form to be understood. (114)

...if you are a hider, you have to be careful of seekers, who are drawn to you simply for the challenge of discovering something. But of course, hiders are drawn to seekers too; there is always some part of us that yearns to be found out. (119)

Maybe the compromises were different, but culture shock could only last so long. At some point, you had to stop being shocked and start absorbing it; otherwise, you would all stay strangers forever. (245)

"Maybe in a foreign language we can never say exactly what we mean..." (277)

I was sorry that I hadn't spent my whole life trying to become the kind of person she'd admire. (294)

I imagine that's something celebrities have to contend with all the time: their fans have an unshakable impression of them before they've even met them. Even if the reality doesn't conform to those expectations, a true devotee won't be disappointed by the discrepancies. He simply won't see them. (303)

Relationships were never equivalent: that was why it was so hard to find permanent ones. When two people depended on each other, they each had their own reasons. Sometimes the reasons balanced each other out temporarily, and the two of you were suspended gently in air. (376)

How could you ever know the truth if each successive person translated it into a new vocabulary? (395) ( )

The dissident in question is a controversial Chinese artist, who comes to California on an exchange programme, living with a local family and giving art classes at a girls' school during his stay. But the story is at least as much about the family he stays with, well-off but dysfunctional, and their extended circle. Despite the differences in their backgrounds, many of the same themes run through both halves of the story - art, creation and fakery, the closeness and simultaneous tension of family relationships, intergenerational misunderstandings, reality and image, and the role of chance in defining your life.

At the same time, the story is not at all heavy - it's very readable, and funny. The use of language to differentiate the characters is another delight - the prissy, short-story writing older sister is very precise and hates cliche, the dissident speaks precise but slightly formal and long-winded sentences. This lifts the story and stops it being dominated by its symbology - for example, the father of the family could be a real stereotype, the psychology professor who has no idea how to interact with his wife or children, but he is drawn with accuracy, economy and wit.

The only fault, for me, was the final chapter, which tried to tie up at least a couple of loose ends, but felt like a cop-out - a tacked-on happy ending which didn't follow on from what came before. But as that was only the last three pages, I only docked it half a point. ( )