Here's the thing -- I had literally no idea what I was getting myself into. The back cover gives literally zero information about the plot. The novel tells six unrelated but inextricably linked stories, ranging from the early 20th century to a least a few hundred years from the present.
There's Adam Ewing, an American in the Pacific, fueled by imperialism and racial theories. There's Robert Frobisher (my favorite), the English composer with few morals or concerns. There's Luisa Rey, the journalist who finds the story of the century in an elevator, Timothy Cavendish, a book publisher with some strange luck and Sonmi-89, a clone struggling with the human condition. Last is Zachry, in the most brilliantly confusing story I've ever read. But Mitchell doesn't tell the six stories in order -- he starts each one, and then stops halfway through until he reaches Zachry's, which he tells in full. Then he picks up each story in reverse chronology, ending with Adam Ewing, the first.
In the book Mitchell says this structure might be "gimmicky," but it works wonderfully. As Ewing looks forward to the future at the end, full of hope and conviction, his words are tinged with the sadness of knowledge -- the rest of the book told us the future, and it sucks.
Yet, writing those words reminds me of a conversation in the first half of Luisa's story, where she discusses with a little boy the nature of knowing the future. They wonder if knowing the future necessarily changes it. Viewing the book in light of that conversation, maybe it's a little less sad.
I like quotes, so here's one from Cloud Atlas: “My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?”
Preach.
Apparently the movie is coming out in December. That will be ... interesting. Lots of great actors are in it though, so I guess we'll see.
Also, gimme your book suggestions. Please and thank you.
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