Amazon.com Review
In the Empire of Dreams captures expatriate life in a way few novels can--its frustrations, its pleasures, the bittersweet pang of being "irrevocably other." For some of Dianne Highbridge's expats, life in Japan feels like coming home; without knowing it, they've been foreigners all their lives. They're "the real gaijin," as one character puts it,
The ones who can't go home, not just yet. The ones still here, still fumbling for the right words in a language made for not explaining, still searching for lovers whose embraces bring to mind no pain, still hopefully clapping hands before the shrines of gods who will never know them but whose indifference itself seems sweet. The uncertain, the messy, the screwed-up, her own kind.
In 10 self-contained chapters, Highbridge paints a series of messy, screwed-up lives. Elaine, the scholar; Cathy, the potter; Gwyneth, the prim Englishwoman whose flight from her homeland fills her with glee: "She escaped! She escaped from everything! From grubby men on bus queues, from headscarves, and gravy, and Tories!" The structure is fragmented, but like so much about this novel, it works: in these vignettes Elaine and Cathy and all of their friends brush by one another much like expatriate acquaintances nodding in the street. Their Japan is one of cherry blossoms and tea ceremonies, to be sure, but it's also one of love hotels, department-store "disaster corners," and monotonous second-rate teaching jobs. Rather than pretending to tell us something new about Japan, Highbridge has told us something new about those who seek it out; the result is a delicate, unsentimental, and surprisingly cohesive book.
--Chloe Byrne
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.
From Publishers Weekly
Candid disillusionment and a fragile, exquisite hopefulness characterize Highbridge's sensitive assortment of expatriates living, teaching and growing older in Japan. Most of these 10 interconnected stories deftly reveal the lives of gaijin: American, British and Australian foreigners, self-consciously exploring Japanese culture, people and customs. Among the adventurous misfits are Janet, an uncertain "big" American who came to Japan after her divorce and now figures she could partner off with a sumo wrestler. British expat Gwyneth finds comfort in the way the Japanese politely perceive her: "Thin, gangly Gwyneth, her mother's streak of misery, is now 'our elegant teacher.'" Australian author Highbridge (A Much Younger Man) suggests that for many of her characters the search for identity is grounded in a desire to escape their previous incarnations. One fascinating element her characters share is how tenaciously their signature melancholia clings to them in spite of their escapist immersions and occasional epiphanies. Highbridge's version of Japan is skillfully and complexly filtered through her Western characters' eyes via rebellious trysts at "love hotels," cramped and transitory Tokyo apartments, earthquakes and cherry blossoms, public urban suicides, post-AIDS bathhouses. In several stories, she also gives voice to Japanese women navigating the rough waters of marriage and careers. "Teaching the Nightingale" finds Teruko, a no longer young Japanese professor, rethinking her position as the mistress of her married lover and attempting to propose marriage to her homosexual gaijin friend. In Highbridge's assured hands, each tale is a separate and complete revelation of the narrator; meanwhile, the stories cumulatively construct a graceful and coherent picture of alienation and connection, of longing and belonging, and Japan is rendered gorgeously as the site of simultaneous escape and self-exploration.
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.