From critique to abstract. [Borderline Citizen by Robin Hemley]

In Borderline Citizen Robin Hemley wrestles with what it means to be a citizen of the world, taking readers on a singular journey through the hinterlands of national identity. As a polygamist of place, Hemley celebrates Guy Fawkes Day in the contested Falkland Islands; Canada Day and the Fourth of July in the tiny U.S. exclave of Point Roberts, Washington; Russian Federation Day in the Russian exclave of Kaliningrad; Handover Day among protesters in Hong Kong; and India Day along the most complicated border in the world.

Forgoing the exotic descriptions of faraway lands common in traditional travel writing, Borderline Citizen upends the genre with darkly humorous and deeply compassionate glimpses into the lives of exiles, nationalists, refugees, and others. Hemley’s superbly rendered narratives detail these individuals, including a Chinese billionaire who could live anywhere but has chosen to situate his ornate mansion in the middle of his impoverished ancestral village, a black nationalist wanted on thirty-two outstanding FBI warrants exiled in Cuba, and an Afghan refugee whose intentionally altered birth date makes him more easy to deport despite his harrowing past.

Part travelogue, part memoir, part reportage, Borderline Citizen redefines notions of nationhood through an exploration of the arbitrariness of boundaries and what it means to belong.

Robin Hemley's Borderline Citizen is what it is. But what is it? From the first half of the book you might think it an exploration of tenuous definitions of citizenship and boundary in the context of enclaves and exclaves. For about the first half of the book that all we experienced vicariously through recollections of the author's travels. But slowly the critique went becoming more and more abstract, from forming commentaries of nationhood to observations of lives lived. "Part travelogue, part memoir, part reportage" is an accurate description of the book, but the way in which we get those parts is highly disjointed. You'd expect more of a overall mix and not such a sense of general split.

The writer's voice or point of view in the narrative had a tone that didn't sit well with me on occasion. Granted, the reports of histories and global politics were my favorite, and those, elucidating me on the state of highlighted parts of the world, sat fantastically. But as we shifted from reportage to abstract memoir with no real point being made, the awkward tone was ever more present. If I were rating on the reportage aspect of the book this would be a 4 star read, but by the end, just living the privileged life of a world traveler and experiencing his loose commentary on community and identity and the fluidity of borders, it dropped to 3 stars for me.

So what can I rate this? It's not entirely a 3 star read but it's not at all 4 stars. 3.5 stars would be an apt rating but I can't half star rate on GoodReads. Would I recommend this? Do I feel strongly enough about this book to say to someone, here, this is a book you definitely should read? Generally, no. I found it really intriguing because I learned new things, but above all things this is a memoir. This is a memoir of the author's travels and his interpretation of difficult issues from his privileged position as a white male world traveler. It was an experience and I learned things, but at the end of it all I don't feel strongly enough in favor of this book. 3 stars from me.