I finished Cloud Atlas yesterday and it is, without a doubt, one of the most memorable books I’ve read in the last couple years. I wasn’t familiar with David Mitchell’s previous work, a fact that I will soon remedy now that I see what a dazzling talent he is. The book consists of six interlocking stories; just how they are connected doesn’t become clear until roughly the midpoint of the book. The stories are a melange of genres; historical travelogue, epistolary bildungsroman (my English profs would be proud I remember those terms), thriller, science fiction, and satire. I’m also not giving too much away if I also reveal that the stories move forward through time, from the early 19th century to the distant future, and then twist back upon themselves like a Mobius strip.
Mitchell, unlike a lot of “literary” authors, seems to have a great respect and fondness for the traditions of each genre. He plays with some familiar tropes in each style, but his writing is so vivid and assured that I never felt like I was reading a pastiche. The stories intertwine on a more thematic level as well. Mitchell uses the stories to explore oppression, free will, consumerism, and the cyclical nature of history.
This book lost the Booker Prize to Alan Hollinghurst’s The Line of Beauty. I’ll have to check out that novel to see if it really surpasses the virtuosity that made Cloud Atlas such a joy to read.
And a big thanks to Jessa at Bookslut for making me aware of this book in the first place.
