David Mitchell must have a very complex mind. His “Cloud Atlas” is like a labyrinth that leads to one dead-end, then allows a way out, and leads to another dead-end. I keep going because I know somehow that I’m not really lost; I know I’m on to something. When Mitchell leads me right back to where I started, I don’t feel I’ve been had because it all comes together. Yes, there’s method to Mitchell’s madness after all.
And speak of madness, the chapter called “Sloosha’s Crossin’ an’ Ev’rythin’ After” is most excruciating to read; squeezed every bead of patience out of me. But Mitchell more than makes up for it with these lines: “It’s been nearly twelve months! Little wonder, if the rumours about your brawls were even half true! How were the Philippines?”
Not exactly a flattering reference. But.