David Mitchell
Some books are obviously, painfully meant for critics, and are often as a consequence difficult for the ordinary reader to slog through with any enjoyment at all. Others, however, are so brilliant and well-executed that serious readers and critics alike can enjoy and appreciate them; Cloud Atlas is, to my mind, a fine example of the latter species. With a structure difficult to pull off and remarkably original given its inherent simplicity, Cloud Atlas not only delivers six enthralling stories but, in doing so, forces readers to think about the effects of stories and storytelling. The book is set up as a series of nested narratives, with the beginning story's second half as the very last part of the book; the sixth (and perhaps the most compelling) is presented in the unbroken middle. The structure can get a bit clumsy at times, especially as readers descend from the strongest stories to the weakest, but its fiction-within-fiction-within-fiction conceit serves its overall storyline and narrative thrust instead of imposing an impressive structure on mediocre narratives. True, few of the stories are exemplars of their genres ("Half-Lives: The First Luisa Rey Mystery" is a fairly standard, though fun, thoughtless mystery and "An Orison of Sonmi~451", despite being well-executed and touching, riffs on dystopian themes heard time and again), but each is more than sufficient and each lends its own particular voice and rhythm to Mitchell's larger examination of the role that storytelling has in our society.
Each story stands on its own but, more cleverly, appears in the stories around it as well, creating a nested effect greater than the physical layout of the book may at first imply. Mitchell weaves his stories together carefully on the way to the middle story, with characters finding the first half of the preceding story cut off, much as the reader has. This creates a nice layered effect but unfortunately loses some steam as the interconnectedness of the stories becomes connected; this becomes particularly wearisome as the stories descend to the first and the discovery of the second half of the story, introduced with profoundly moving simplicity at the end of the middle piece, thereafter is accomplished with decreasingly successful plot devices. Cloud Atlas does, however, carefully and remarkably reveal subtle plot details as the stories move chronologically forward; we find out, for example, that "The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish" is experienced as a movie by the protagonist of "An Orison of Sonmi~451", and the concluding half of his narrative includes side notes to a projected future director, lovingly nicknamed Lars. Similar clever bits allow those in the chronological future to dwell on the fates of those whose stories precede and inform their own without revealing too much of the plot.
There are times, however, that the whole conceit wears a little thin, as Mitchell allows his characters to discusses their reactions to his own stories. It is almost insufferable to hear Luisa Rey gush about the poignancy inherent in the "Letters from Zedelghem", as it is obvious that Mitchell is in the business of congratulating himself instead of allowing the stories to speak for themselves, which they do in many other varied and interesting ways. The evolution of language, for example, to include future adoption of brand names as generic nouns (nikes are shoes, disneys are movies and, most intriguingly, to judas is to betray) is introspective and well-executed. There is no question that, though Mitchell may only truly master the forms of the modern comedy and apocalyptic oral history, his ability to operate in numerous utterly distinct genres is absolutely incredible. "Half Lives: The First Luisa Rey Mystery" would certainly not deserve critical praise but it may, in fact, find itself selling moderately well as a middle-of-the-road newspaper thriller, "Sloosha's Crossin' an' Ev'rythin' After" is a well-equipped post-apocalyptic tale, and Somni does, though treading familiar ground, make interesting points about corporate culture and a possible future trajectory. Most enjoyable, however, is probably Timothy Cavendish's ghastly ordeal, whose second half far eclipses its first and provides the last truly great moment of the novel.
Cloud Atlas aims to demonstrate, with its interlocked stories and its unique narrative structure, that stories and language are essential building blocks with which we construct a coherent and shared view of the world. Even "Half-Lives", the only story presented in the third person, fundamentally revolves around communication and has a newspaper reporter as its protagonist. Each of the stories is serviceable on its own, though it is tough to know that "The Pacific Journal of Adam Ewing" is the final chord struck in the symphony. Its very final notes are effective but the novel's best moments are peppered throughout its rich middle sections, but this is the only major failure of the book's gutsy structure. Cloud Atlas is a rich and rewarding reading experience that manages a tricky dance of crescendos and diminuendos among clumsy tangos and midnight rendezvous. The book is a joy to read both for its enthralling contents and in the way it employs an unique structure to speak to the importance of stories to all of us and, perhaps, to underline the tenuous threads connecting us to the past and the future.
Grade: A
Each story stands on its own but, more cleverly, appears in the stories around it as well, creating a nested effect greater than the physical layout of the book may at first imply. Mitchell weaves his stories together carefully on the way to the middle story, with characters finding the first half of the preceding story cut off, much as the reader has. This creates a nice layered effect but unfortunately loses some steam as the interconnectedness of the stories becomes connected; this becomes particularly wearisome as the stories descend to the first and the discovery of the second half of the story, introduced with profoundly moving simplicity at the end of the middle piece, thereafter is accomplished with decreasingly successful plot devices. Cloud Atlas does, however, carefully and remarkably reveal subtle plot details as the stories move chronologically forward; we find out, for example, that "The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish" is experienced as a movie by the protagonist of "An Orison of Sonmi~451", and the concluding half of his narrative includes side notes to a projected future director, lovingly nicknamed Lars. Similar clever bits allow those in the chronological future to dwell on the fates of those whose stories precede and inform their own without revealing too much of the plot.
There are times, however, that the whole conceit wears a little thin, as Mitchell allows his characters to discusses their reactions to his own stories. It is almost insufferable to hear Luisa Rey gush about the poignancy inherent in the "Letters from Zedelghem", as it is obvious that Mitchell is in the business of congratulating himself instead of allowing the stories to speak for themselves, which they do in many other varied and interesting ways. The evolution of language, for example, to include future adoption of brand names as generic nouns (nikes are shoes, disneys are movies and, most intriguingly, to judas is to betray) is introspective and well-executed. There is no question that, though Mitchell may only truly master the forms of the modern comedy and apocalyptic oral history, his ability to operate in numerous utterly distinct genres is absolutely incredible. "Half Lives: The First Luisa Rey Mystery" would certainly not deserve critical praise but it may, in fact, find itself selling moderately well as a middle-of-the-road newspaper thriller, "Sloosha's Crossin' an' Ev'rythin' After" is a well-equipped post-apocalyptic tale, and Somni does, though treading familiar ground, make interesting points about corporate culture and a possible future trajectory. Most enjoyable, however, is probably Timothy Cavendish's ghastly ordeal, whose second half far eclipses its first and provides the last truly great moment of the novel.
Cloud Atlas aims to demonstrate, with its interlocked stories and its unique narrative structure, that stories and language are essential building blocks with which we construct a coherent and shared view of the world. Even "Half-Lives", the only story presented in the third person, fundamentally revolves around communication and has a newspaper reporter as its protagonist. Each of the stories is serviceable on its own, though it is tough to know that "The Pacific Journal of Adam Ewing" is the final chord struck in the symphony. Its very final notes are effective but the novel's best moments are peppered throughout its rich middle sections, but this is the only major failure of the book's gutsy structure. Cloud Atlas is a rich and rewarding reading experience that manages a tricky dance of crescendos and diminuendos among clumsy tangos and midnight rendezvous. The book is a joy to read both for its enthralling contents and in the way it employs an unique structure to speak to the importance of stories to all of us and, perhaps, to underline the tenuous threads connecting us to the past and the future.
Grade: A
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