THE DISCUSSION ON AUTHENTICITY TRANSPOSES ITSELF ONTO THE RELATIONSHIP, AS THE NARRATOR WONDERS WHETHER IT IS EVER POSSIBLE TO TRULY KNOW ONE’S PARTNER

When the narrator observes one painter working to replicate Da Vinci’s The Virgin of the Rocks, she comments, “they don’t know which one is Jesus and which is John. For them, knowing the difference is like knowing who is the General Secretary of State and who is Chairman of the Central Party Committee. It’s all the same anyway!” The discussion on what constitutes authenticity transposes itself onto the central relationship, as the narrator wonders whether it is ever possible to truly know one’s partner.

Guo has previously talked about “creating a hybrid voice” in her novels, and spends much time discussing the power of language, and the alienating feeling when one can’t find the words to express one’s feelings.

The protagonist searches for English, Chinese, and German phrases to express herself but often they don’t seem to quite fit: “that language spoke for me, instead of my speaking it…i just wore it like clothes. Then it would abandon me when I die.”

Guo herself began her career writing in Chinese, before switching to English with 2008’s

There are no real dramatic moments in Discourse, but Guo’s direct and unembellished writing style moves the story along at a pace, with short chapters that keep the momentum up by forcing meaning into every word. There is a welcome simplicity in Guo’s writing, but rarely a lack of depth in meaning. Nearly every chapter raises interesting questions for the reader to ponder, though some of these themes are dealt with so fleetingly that they appear unimportant, or even throwaway.

There are moments of levity and some of darkness as the couple’s love morphs from “a powerful distraction” to a committed partnership, despite the doubts that always linger. One chapter, in which the narrator recounts her harrowing experience of an abortion she had as a teenager, is a rare foray into the protagonist’s backstory. On the whole, though, Guo maintains the reader’s attention through the seeming precariousness of the relationship that unfolds before them.

By the end of the book there is still much uncertainty and much to ponder for the reader and the narrator. The lack of narrative extends to the book’s climax—we are still unsure of the true nature of “you,” and this makes the final chapter slightly jarring.

But perhaps this was Guo’s intent, suggesting that finding belonging, adapting to new cultures, and being in love, are all constant processes with no real end. The two lovers are still trying to fully understand each other and themselves. “Love exists only because one has illusions about the other,” the narrator comments, “though maybe this was the final illusion, that love could survive despite the dispelling of all one’s illusions about the other.”