Cloud Atlas, by David Mitchell

Cloud Atlas
David Mitchell

Even though I’ve heard this book touted by numerous critics, David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas really surprised me. When I first read about the book’s concept, I was interested enough to read it, but dubious enough to fear it might seemed too contrived (actually, I thought so only to dislike the very idea I considered myself too inept to ever write; being too lazy to sit and write myself, I have allowed David Mitchell to beat me to the punch. Actually, there are a dozen authors who have beaten me; I’ll probably be writing about all of them instead of something more worthwhile).

I was intrigued by the book’s unique concept: six connected characters that span both time and space. The connection that links the characters, beginning with Adam Ewing in 1850 and continuing to Zachry in a postapocalyptic world, is not clear until later in the book. Structurally, the book tantalizes the reader by interrupting each character’s narrative midway through the tale. The reader is forced to leave scenes of increasing tension to meet the next character, whose own story soon becomes so compelling that it hurts when the reader is again thwarted the next time. These stories are so disparate, and yet, at the risk of sounding hokey, the whole is a beautiful unity.

I have to admit the book started off slowly, and I was not immediately sucked in to the tale. I am being picky here, I know, because I technically like to be sucked in by the first paragraph. Well, if I’m going to be totally honest, the first line. And, of course, that’s easier said than done. It’s really rare that I’ve been taken in by the very first line; Lolita comes to mind, but not much else. Cloud Atlas had me by about the twentieth page (give or take), so I can’t complain too much.

This book is easily “literary fiction” (a.k.a. “highbrow” fiction), yet it is such a quick read. I love when I have a hard time putting a book down and am forced to bring the book into work for a few, quick, stolen moments to get in a few pages. Cloud Atlas was just such a book. I found myself reading it early in the morning, during my lunch, and at night, and when I was finished, I felt a little breathless. There is so much to take in; I feel that I should reread it to hunt for all those myriad threads that tie the stories together. This book felt good to read. The stories are each taut and the reader feels impelled to read more, read faster to reach the conclusion and end the suspense. This desire is frustrated by the poetry of the prose, which is so haunting, I was prompted to reread a paragraph to enjoy the writing before moving on to enjoy the story.

One of my favorite aspects of the book was its unique characters. Each character is so complete that each felt like someone I knew, which is such a cliché that I feel like a jerk typing these words. And, since I’m using such trite descriptions, I’ll also describe these characters with the oft-bestowed “utterly inhabited” (another phrase I hate, but the only one that seems to do the job here). In fact, despite dedicating only about 70 pages dedicated to each character, Mitchell has been able to create characters that are psychologically complex persons.

Robert Frobisher is by far my favorite character. He was the most alive for me of all the characters. I feel the same pity for Frobisher as I do for Heathcliff, though I’m not sure why, as they have very little in common. He’s the type of character that I want to know in real life, and help him in some way (although, again, if I’m going to be honest, I probably wouldn’t actually help such a person; I’d probably just gossip about him and say things like, “Robert Frobisher? Oh, my god, I know, what a mess. Did you hear what he’s gotten himself into now? God, like, get it together, man, you know? He’s like, how old?” And then, to make myself feel better, I’d send an email that would read, “Hey, how are you? It’s been *so long* since I’ve seen you—we have to get together soon!!! Write back and let me know how you are!” only then I’d forget to write back to his reply, letting months pass until I really felt like a jerk.).

Finally, the worlds Mitchell creates are entirely believable and are as complete as the characters. His description of a not-too-future, capitalist society strikes too close to home and all too possible for us to reach. But I’ve only finished this book a day or two ago, so there’s entirely too much I could write about many aspects of the book, and if I say any more, I will give away something important. This

In a nutshell: Cloud Atlas was a quick but substantial read that lived up to its hype. It may not be the best book you ever read, but you won’t regret it.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6