David Mitchell is an eloquent conjurer of interconnected tales, a genre-bending daredevil, and a master prose stylist. His hypnotic new novel, The Bone Clocks, crackles with invention and wit - it is fiction at its most spellbinding and memorable.
Following a scalding row with her mother, 15-year-old Holly Sykes slams the door on her old life. But Holly is no typical teenage runaway: A sensitive child once contacted by voices she knew only as "the radio people", Holly is a lightning rod for psychic phenomena. Now, as she wanders deeper into the English countryside, visions and coincidences reorder her reality until they assume the aura of a nightmare brought to life. For Holly has caught the attention of a cabal of dangerous mystics - and their enemies. But her lost weekend is merely the prelude to a shocking disappearance that leaves her family irrevocably scarred. This unsolved mystery will echo through every decade of Holly's life, affecting all the people Holly loves - even the ones who are not yet born. A Cambridge scholarship boy grooming himself for wealth and influence, a conflicted father who feels alive only while reporting from occupied Iraq, a middle-aged writer mourning his exile from the bestseller list - all have a part to play in this surreal, invisible war on the margins of our world.
From the medieval Swiss Alps to the 19th-century Australian bush, from a hotel in Shanghai to a Manhattan townhouse in the near future, their stories come together in moments of everyday grace and extraordinary wonder. Rich with character and realms of possibility, The Bone Clocks is a kaleidoscopic novel that begs to be taken apart and put back together.
©2014 David Mitchell (P)2014 W.F. Howes
My taste differs from kid books to gory horror books.
BIG FAT SECONDS
The first couple of hours of this was a beautiful pleasure. I have never enjoyed the language of a book as much as I loved this writing. I often complain about overly descriptive language, but that is not what this is. Mitchell just has a way of speaking, of thinking that is unique to him. When other writers try this style of writing it always seems fake to me, but I truly believe this is how Mitchell thinks.
INSIDE I GLOW
So, your wondering why the low rating. I enjoyed the first couple of hours and the female character. She seem like a fairly normal British teenager who just happens to hear RADIO PEOPLE. Oh yea, this is very British. The British English with the colorful language, can make it a little hard to understand at times. That was not the problem for me. For some reason we switched characters and I was bored by the male character. I listened for three more hours, hoping he would get more interesting or we would return to the girl, but I lost patience. For three hours Mitchell bored me and that is something I don't have to put up with. Slade House is a shorter work, so I might try it. The plot was also taking to long to come together.
Addicted to books, both print and audio-.
I'm not a David Mitchell fan; I got through Thousand Autumns, but gave up on Cloud Atlas. I might give Cloud Atlas another try. I tried this book because of Ursula K. LeGuin's review in The Guardian; Ursula's opinion carries a lot of weight with me. I found The Bone Clocks to be seriously uneven. The first three sections & characters I found compelling, interesting and well narrated. The fourth section was difficult because it seemed to go on for a LONG time and the character was just so unpleasant. This might have been an easier read than listen; audiobooks come to life to such a degree that sometimes it's great and sometimes it's a downside. I didn't want to spend any more time with Crispin Hershey . . . but I got through it. I felt section 5 was by far the weakest part of the book. It's where the supernatural elements are strongest, and I just didn't believe it. I'm happy to go along with any number of fantastic constructs and worlds, but I need them to be well constructed and prepared for. These were not; it seemed like Mitchell just came up with a bunch of cool-sounding words and threw them at us. If the psychic weaponry and war make sense to him, that's fine, but it needs to make sense to me as well, and it really, really didn't. The narrator for section 5 didn't really work for me, and constantly mispronounced "Poughkeepsie." A small thing, I know, but it really got on my nerves after the first few times.
I enjoyed the final section of the book.
Overall I feel like Mitchell came up with some really interesting characters and didn't do much of interest with them. He can certainly write, no question about that. But the book didn't move me, and the supernatural aspect of the story was so weak that I'm left with no idea why he wrote the book at all.
Yes and no. Loved so many aspects of this book, but sometimes it felt like I was listening to four different stories at once that really never connected. I think I would have preferred to have a little more of the sci-fi/weird story line,which seemed to be the whole premise of the book, yet it was so brief throughout the plot.
But, even the parts of the story that were not relative to the main character's development (her husband's journey in the middle east for example) I feel like these chapters were well written and captivating.
Wrapped up nicely.
Good story,but I will never listen to it again.
Say something about yourself!
There's nothing wrong with pretending you know what's going on...sometimes you are along for the ride and will get it later. (Take Cloud Atlas for instance.) Mitchell does that best, and at a speed that sometimes reminds me of trying to have a conversation with a hyper active person at the height of their hyper arc (and pharmaceutically enhanced). His brilliance and out-there creativity require a catch-up period; you don't wait for the story to develop, you wait to catch-up with the story. I'm not a member of the Mitchell cult, but I've read many of his books and recognize an author with a rare creative talent and freshness that almost promises there are still great books to come. The Bone Clocks was a good one, (it was long-listed for a Man Booker before it was even released). I liked it enough to say Mitchell fans will be okay with it, but it is a departure from his more sophisticated novels.
Bone Clocks is not just a journey through time at warp speed, it is a frenetic jump in and out of ages with the future periods reflecting on some I-told-you-so moments that are frighteningly timely (global warming, Iraq, etc.),major issues to us presently, but just back ground for an eternal battle raging between the forces of good and evil. He obviously has a message for his readers in here.
Mitchell bends the boundaries, as usual, with connected characters, engaging backstories, and places in time, but pinning down which character you are with, and at what moment and where, is tricky. The constant present tense, the static back and forth, and the similarities in the characters, present challenges -- and not the kind intended by the author. The audio version is probably an advantage in some ways, (the presentation is done well) but the voice alone doesn't tell you when or where. Mitchell's presence is always looming subconsciously; Bone Clocks seemed to be lacking separation from the author.
The level of writing and creativity have already been expounded on by reviewers. Worth mentioning again is Mitchell's superb "ventriloquistic" style that pulls you in while the story unfolds around you. The story itself expands on Mitchell's on-going play with fantasy; he gives us a version of *vampires* -- soul sucking fiends that feed on children. But, these are Mitchell's vampires, so I am pretending I get it... that these undead might just be metaphors for something deeper and more meaningful.
The story is enjoyable and reminded me a little of the fantastical film, Highlander (the movie with the Scottish swordsman that battles the evil immortal, the two swordsmen popping in and out of time periods and places). It wasn't exactly the book I anticipated, but I saw plenty of glimmers of Mitchell's brilliance. Worth the read, but probably not worth the Man Booker.
I sort of worship at the altar of David Mitchell, so of course I loved this book. He is simply a masterful writer. And the narrators were all quite good. But the narration was nevertheless a major problem for me. The character around whom the book is structured is Holly Sykes, who we meet in her own voice in the first and last decades of her life. In the other episodes, someone else's story is told, though Holly Sykes is always a character in their stories. It makes sense to have different narrators for different episodes, since many of the stories are told by other characters. The problem is that Holly absolutely comes alive in the first episode: beautifully narrated and wonderfully written. In all the later episodes, she is incredibly flat. I kept looking for some sign of her individuality and her humanity, but really never saw it. So either David Mitchell has not successfully drawn an engaging portrait of Holly through the various decades of her life (quite possible), or I just couldn't get past the fact that when Holly talked in all the later episodes, she had a different voice and thus was not herself, making it difficult for me to connect her to the girl I met in the first episode. So now, after having invested many many hours in listening to the audiobook, I have to buy the book and read it if I want to decide whether or not David Mitchell really is all that. A lot is at stake here! I've been telling everyone I know that he's the best writer of his generation in the English language, and if he's written a crappy central character, I have to stop saying that! Or else he has to let me edit his next novel before it goes to press. Everybody needs an editor or twelve or twenty.
Though rather convoluted, this is the story of a woman, and her many friends lovers and acquaintances, as she journeys thru a lifetime of change, with many paranormal - and normal -experiences. I won't spoil the ending, but will warn you that her final years become pretty grim, as the author reveals the end of the book as well as the end of civilization as we know it. Warring, greedy, wasteful mankind is finally, and completely, ruled by the elite few, in true fascist manner. Madmen rule, and the other 90% of the world scrabble just to live in primitive conditions , returning to martial law that is both medieval and deadly, as first the Russian, then Chinese meager boxes of rationed goods run out. The world has turned upside down, to the surprise of the reader. What began as the story of a rebellious teenager turns into the story of a world that should have rebelled against the freedom given up for comfort. Interesting that the author foresaw what is taking place now. Don't expect a happy ending.
I write for myself, for my own pleasure. And I want to be left alone to do it. - Salinger ^(;,;)^
It is hard to not like David Mitchell. He is literary, just not too literary. He is funky, just not too funky. He is hip, just not too hip. He is political, just not too political. He is spiritual, but also seems to leave room for a bit of humanist doubt. I can't think of another writer who captures the energy or direction of the slick, urban, cosmopolitan, educated, 21st century global zeitgeist.
David Mitchell is brilliant at ventriloquism and style-jumping. His books are filled with multiple narrative and style incarnations (the stacking-doll Cloud Atlas, or narrative leaping number9dream, or his most recent The Bone Clocks), but sometime I feel like he is starting to eat his own tail here. I want to see Mitchell do a Peter Carey and jump out of his slick, crowd-pleasing novels into something a bit different.
Do I know exactly what I want? No. I just see this author who I've liked enough to read everything he's ever published, and fear that we might just get two or three more of these books. I like them. Don't get me wrong. I liked 'The Bone Clocks' enough to give it four stars and review and read it. I just don't want to see Mitchell begin to get so comfortable in his archipelago of interconnected narratives that he doesn't push his talent into dark, rough, and uncomfortable places.
Anyway, Mitchell hasn't written a novel YET that I'm very disappointed with and Bone Clocks is no exception. There might be a couple slower chapters and the ending might have been a bit predictable, but I had a hard time putting the novel down while reading and was sad to put it down when I finished. That isn't rare for me, but it is a pretty good indication that the novel is on solid ground. People keep claiming to see the death of the novel around the corner, but Mitchell's talent and narrative slickness is at least one star that keeps consistently reappearing.
A point on the narration. A couple of the narrations (Jessica Ball, etc) were a tad difficult for me. They worked, but they were so heavily accented that I couldn't listen to it faster than 1.5 speed without losing the thread of what was being said. Not a huge critique, but just my two pence.
For the first 1/2 to 2/3 of this novel I really thought it was going to be my favorite of 2015. The interlocking stories which begin in 1984 and move through time, space and characters are evocative, engrossing and beautifully written. There are occasional suggestions that perhaps (or perhaps not) supernatural forces are at work underneath the more worldly storylines, and these hints of something further are just enough to add an intriguing element of mystery to the stories.
What I didn't see coming was the U-turn into full-blown supernatural fantasy roughly halfway through the book. The book transformed into something tedious at best and highly annoying at worst--it is not nearly as well written as the first part of the book and, indeed, it feels as though the book has been hijacked by the evil Anchorites of the book--and perhaps this is the impression that Mitchell intends to give. Still, it doesn't mean I have to like reading it. I am not against fantasy, but it just doesn't work here.
The apocalyptic last section of the book fares little better in my opinion. I am still giving it three stars because the first part of the book is so wonderful – just wish Mitchell hadn't fallen under the spell of The Blind Cathar....
Probably not. While the premise and the actual plot was fairly interesting I was bored for 99% of the book. The story jumps around from character to character with no real transition or end point to the previous character's narrative. I see this book as trying to over emphasize character development with boring and uninteresting characters. So much of the story told for the various characters is unnecessary and doesn't add anything to the story. I was so bored through the first half of the book that when the last half attempts to reference characters from earlier I had a hard time remembering who they were talking about or why it was relevant.
The core plot was actually interesting, and that's why it's disappointing to me that it was muddied by so much useless and uninteresting story-telling.
I didn't have a problem with the narrators as much as the production. The dynamic levels vary greatly. Trying to listen in the car was frustrating because so many soft whispers and then loud booming voices it was difficult to find a comfortable listening level where I could hear everything that was going on over the surrounding noise and not be at an uncomfortable volume when things kicked back up to the higher end of the dynamic range.
The most frustrating thing for me was how they handled the multiple narrators doing different characters. Instead of those narrators voicing the characters throughout the book they would have 1 narrator do an entire section regardless of who was speaking. So through the first several hours of the story you associate one narrator, one voice with the main character Holly. Then the next several hours switches to a different narrator from the perspective of a supporting male character. This character interacts with Holly, but instead of having the female narrator voice Holly the male character attempts a feminine voice.
This happens throughout the book. It really would have been a lot more immersive to have a single narrator associated with specific characters and to voice that dialogue throughout, as has been done in a lot of titles with multiple narrators like this. It makes it seem rather pointless to have a big voice cast if each is only going to do certain sections.
Not at all, 90% of the story would have to be cut and it would need to be very loosely based on the happenings of the book.
Plenty seem to have enjoyed this book, and from other reviews it seems that this is the style of this author. Just not my cup of tea and I likely will not be listening/reading anything else by Mitchell.
Gen-Xer, software engineer, and lifelong avid reader. Soft spots for sci-fi, fantasy, and history, but I'll read anything good.
David Mitchell’s sixth novel is a globe-and-time-hopping six-part meditation on the way death shapes human existence, though we may try to deny it beneath the trappings of modernity. As in Cloud Atlas and Ghostwritten, there isn’t a traditional narrative drivetrain, but a loose story thread that passes through multiple characters, all of whom seem like they might have come from different novels, but are pulled together by a shared degree of separation.
While Mitchell has always played with magic realism, here he goes for out-and-out fantasy, an indulgence that editors might would have talked a less-established writer out of. If you recall the ageless villain in The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, Mitchell has expanded this mystery into an ongoing supernatural war between two factions of immortals, the Anchorites (who prolong their lives by sacrificing psychically-gifted victims) and the Horologists (who are reborn into new bodies each time they die, but also with a sacrifice of sorts).
For the first four acts of the novel (roughly 400 pages), this conflict remains mostly in the background, with bits of it spilling a la Murakami into the primary characters’ lives, usually in the form of visions or encounters that they don’t understand. The first act follows Holly Sykes, whom we meet through her own words as a teenager in 1984 England, when she runs away from home. In the second, she becomes an important figure in the life of a charming but manipulative young Cambridge University libertine, who has just schemed himself into a corner. In 2004, we see her through the eyes of her husband, a journalist covering the awful early days of the Iraq occupation, who has a glimpse into Holly’s psychic gifts at a crucial moment. And later, she becomes friends with a cantankerous 50-ish author whose star is falling fast, and a vehicle for some good “literary” wit.
As always, Mitchell’s ability to hop between tones, styles, places, and voices is impressive. The first four acts of the novel have to be read as separate stories, though the reader will notice shared elements, images, locations, characters, and ideas that ripple and reflect through them. And, of course, that each protagonist is older than the last, gradually shifting the perspective on mortality. However, several of the characters feel more like artfully crafted "types" than real people, and I wondered if so much time needed to be spent in the worlds of privileged students or famous novelists to make the point. (Maybe?)
The fifth act, where the paranormal Anchorite/Horologist war at last comes to the fore, dragging in Holly, may strike readers as a little silly, with its talk of “psychic voltages”, “old souls”, and “chakra eyes”. There’s an elaborate history here, and we take a trip back to Czarist Russia and 19th century Australia, but the essential struggle isn’t complex. One side seeks eternal youth via a system that exploits others; the other seeks deeper continuity, but has limited power. Looked at one way, it’s fantasy cosmology; looked at another, it’s the very struggle in our souls.
So we arrive at the last act, told from an older Holly’s perspective, set in a grim 2040s where the supernatural good guys have been unable to save humanity from the consequences of its own actions, though there’s a ray of bittersweet hope. In trying to hide from our own individual mortality, do we collectively hasten it for civilization? Good question.
Probably more than Mitchell's other novels, this one is written in the security of a fanbase, and might frustrate the non-initiate who randomly pulls it off a shelf. But, I'm part of the club and I couldn't help but enjoy the ambition, ideas, craft, storytelling, connections, and resonant themes. I also had fun reviewing it in my mind afterwards, working out deeper meanings -- as one needs to with Mitchell.
The voice actors are mostly pretty capable, though Eddie’s and Crispin’s sound a little too old, and some accents might have been better.
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