One morning while reading Cloud Atlas I was leafing through The Lie that Tells the Truth: A Guide to Writing Fiction by John Dufresne and I opened to a page talking about how you have to leave room in a book for the readers to do some of the work. The readers need to fill in some of the gaps. According to Dufresne, this isn't just some advice that a writer can't give every piece of minutiae in a book, because that will make it unreadable, but also that readers want to put in some of the work. It makes them feel involved in the work, it invests them. Maybe Dufresne says this, but I was only leafing through the book while going to shelve it, but I think that this is one of the most important parts of a novel and something that maybe everyone else is going to be like, 'well duh', but that I only have somewhere in the back of my mind and rarely put words to the dim thought.

Two days ago I wrote the first paragraph. Now is two days later. I've thought of this some more. I realize that DFW talks quite a bit about this idea in the Lipsky book.
I've also thought of a rough scale of books that expect you to bring something to the table / put some time into them to get something out of them.

Children books
Newspapers / Self-Help-ish type books
Average Non-Fiction / Journalistic books
Average work of fiction
Literary Non-fiction
Literary Fiction
Philosophy / Poetry / Avant-Garde (whatever the fuck that means) Literature.

I have more distinctions to draw in almost all of those categories, and seriously your average newspaper / new bestselling 'expose' by Glen Beck, or a how to big up a woman using lying and deceit book all demand the same amount of work on the part of the reader, zilch. It's better actually in all those cases if the reader just doesn't think much at all it lets the message seep into the mind better that way.

Your awful boilerplate James Patterson-esque novel requires a higher degree of reader interaction with the text. Even if it is just to (un)consciously fill in the appropriate gestalts that will allow the author to work his / her twists of the plot on the reader. In this case it's the readers mind working against the reader and for the author as the reader attempts to solve the mystery going on and the author and mind are working in tandem at misdirection. As one continues up the ladder here more and more is expected on the reader's part for the work to succeed.

Part of the trick to finding a book one will enjoy is to find a work that is in synch with the amount of work you are willing to put into the book. A lot (but not all) of the people who say they only read non-fiction are in effect saying they are pragmatic people, when they read they want to be told what to think and get the meat out of the book ASAP. They want to know X so they read a book that will tell them X. For example if X is the secret to existence, they want to read something that tells them the secret (even if it's wrong) than say wrestle with a hundred pages of say Samuel Beckett to find out what that secret may be. This is a very silly example but it's sort of the kind of thing that people do in fact read books for. I'm not going to say anything about critical faculties or correctness, it's just that a self-help / new age book is going to present material in a way that the reader takes on a relatively passive position, they are told things; as opposed to other types of literature where if the reader doesn't bring something to the text there is just a bunch of words that tell some story that who really cares about. Like, I didn't read Proust because the thought of reading a few thousand pages about a guy who spends a lot of time laying around in bed was riveting to me. There is something more that I'm hoping to gleam from the book, and the book isn't going to just spit that something up without a bit of something from myself.

This is one of those books that demands a bit of work on the part of the reader to put the whole thing together.

I don't really know what the book means. I feel kind of the same way as I do about Infinite Jest as I do about Cloud Atlas they both are big in scope, but at the same time so myopic. The book almost feels like it could have been a TV show from Jonas Wergeland's "Thinking Big" TV series in the Kjærstad novels. The novel is a bunch of stories whose sum is greater and smaller than the whole, depending on what way you decide to look at the work.

Cloud Atlas is six temporally successive stories broken up into 11 sections. The first five stories are split into two, with the first part being told in the first half of the novel and the second in the later half. Only the sixth story is told without any interruption. One could re-read this novel by reading the six stories as six complete stories and look for different connections between them, and maybe they would read differently than in the way Mitchell lays them out. The way that he does put the stories though creates a Escher-like narrative that one can't successfully orientate him or herself into the story. The hole's an author normally leaves open for a reader to peer into the fictional world shift as the stories continue to unfold. I want to almost say that there is something of a mobius strip quality to this novel, but I don't want there to be any Joycean undertones here. If there needs to be a literary anchor for the term than maybe John Barthes' short story "Mobius Strip" as a referent.

I'm saying a lot without saying much at all.

I want to say that this book is awesome, but that you have to want to work with the book. The book might ultimately fail to fully do everything that Mitchell wants it to do, but I'm not sure what he does want it to do. There are arrows pointing to where the author might possibly want the reader to go, but there are also nods and winks that give the reader the choice to pursue other avenues of thought. The only problem with these winks and nods is that the narrative is not fully contained. There is no big act of misdirection being played where the reader can be surprised but ultimately comforted, and without the comforting part there is an unease left in this kind of novel. But it's the really good kind of unease that authors like DFW, Evan Dara and Pynchon expose for us.

David Mitchell writes in a really masterful style of writing with an excellent command of the English language. This story is split into different interlacing parables. There are six different testaments that span several centuries each one breaks a period of time and space. The stories are very interesting but I found as the stories went by nearer to second half of the book I was not fully immersed into the story. So if it lacks in anything this novel is some gripping and immersing element, sometimes I found I did not care enough for the characters due to the changing of testaments, where in one straight testament you would build the audience and glue and bond them to certain characters. But then again that was probably the authors set out task to write in this way, a technique used by Italo Calvino, actually this story written in a similar fashion to one I have read called Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino.
I loved the character Timothy Cavendish a very English old school character had very funny insight into the world. I loved his take on the underground and London.

n  
"Over an hour later London shunted itself southwards, taking the Curse of the Brother Hoggins with it. Commuters, these hapless souls who enter a lottery of death twice daily on Britain's decrepit railways, packed the dirty train. Aeroplanes circled in holding patterns over Heathrow, densely as gnats over a summer puddle. Too much matter in this ruddy city."

Excerpts
"Three or four times only in my youth did I glimpse the Joyous Isles, before they were lost to fogs, depressions, cold fronts, ill winds, and contrary tides … I mistook them for adulthood. Assuming they were a fixed feature in my life’s voyage, I neglected to record their latitude, their longitude, their approach. Young ruddy fool. What wouldn’t I give now for a never-changing map of the ever-constant ineffable? To possess, as it were, an atlas of clouds."

"He who would do battle with the many-headed hydra of human nature must pay a world of pain & his family must pay it along with him! & only as you gasp your dying breath shall you understand, your life amounted to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean!” Yet what is any ocean but a multitude of drops?"


"Faith, the least exclusive club on Earth, has the craftiest doorman. Every time I’ve stepped through its wide-open doorway, I find myself stepping out on the street again."

“We—by whom I mean anyone over sixty—commit two offences just by existing. One is Lack of Velocity. We drive too slowly, walk too slowly, talk too slowly. The world will do business with dictators, perverts, and drug barons of all stripes, but being slowed down it cannot abide. Our second offence is being Everyman’s memento mori. The world can only get comfy in shiny-eyed denial if we are out of sight.”n

http://more2read.com/?review=cloud-at...

An exceptionally well crafted 'nested' book about predacity, the way mankind inherently preys on itself. Unfortunately, although some of the six interwoven tales are brilliant, some of them are just passable. I still think the author has an exceptional talent and mind though. 6 our of 12

If you liked the book, see the movie!

Very enjoyable book, the pages just flew by (except for the innermost chapter, which I found slow reading because I was often puzzling over what the narrator was saying).

The following describes details of the novel's structure, which you may not want to know!
The book's structure was unique (to me, at any rate): The first five chapters are narratives, journals, or letters in the first person, written by five different characters. These chapters end (sometimes abruptly) without any resolution, and have only slight connections to each other. The sixth "innermost" chapter has a clear ending. Then the last five chapters take up, and complete (in reverse order) the stories of the first five chapters.

It works pretty well, and I did find all the stories very interesting and well-written. But I feel there were a couple negatives. First, chapter six is in a sense the end of the overall story (if the novel can be said to have an overall story). Thus the remaining chapters, although completing the other five stories, don't add much to that "overall story". The fact that they remain engaging reading is a testament to Mitchell's skill in story-telling. The other negative was that I was expecting the five story conclusions to somehow connect all six stories in a cohesive way, maybe paint some sort of "magical realist" picture which would be the ultimate "story" in the novel; but except for some very minor brush strokes, I didn't see any such picture painted. (Maybe I just didn't see it!)

Overall, it's a book well worth reading: six stories, each superbly crafted, featuring six completely different narrative voices, in six completely different settings; and, as a bonus, having a few interesting historical/philosophical/moral viewpoints thrown in.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Previous review: As God Commands Niccolò Ammaniti
Random review: Chess Openings: Theory and Practice
Next review: An Instance of the Fingerpost Iain Pears

Previous library review: Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy
Next library review: I Could Read the Sky

С една дума - страхотна!!!

Не ми харесва единствено подбора на българското заглавие - далеч по-удачно би било Облачен атлас или дори Атлас/Карта на облаците. Нещо, което е невъзможно реално да съществува, освен в дигитален вариант и е вечна променлива.

Самата книга се състои от плавно преливащи една в друга и във времето и пространството истории. Напред и после обратно.

Фантастично изпълнение на Дейвид Мичъл, години след прочита на книгата съм все още запленен от нея и помня почти всичките и герои и перипетиите им. Рядко попадам на такъв мощен размах на въображението, колкото и клиширано да звучи.

Ще я препрочета със сигурност.

Цитат:

"В началото е невежеството. То поражда страх. Страхът - омраза, а тя насилие. Насилието предизвиква ново насилие, докато единствен закон стане волята на най-силния."

Гледах и филма, според мен екранизацията е доста сполучлива и също си струва да се види.

P.S. Личен фаворит - приключението на Тимъти Кавендиш, пресъздадено брилиянтно във филма от Джим Броудбент!

This ambitious, unique, and very entertaining novel by David Mitchell is hard to describe. It's success or failure is a matter of debate, a matter of personal opinion, and a good argument can be made from both sides. I personally liked it. I couldn't decide between 4 or 5 stars, so settled on something in between. Truth is, a story written in six different time periods, six different genre's, six different points of view, provides something to like for almost every reader. The stories are inter-connected in small ways, but not enough to make it feel like a "whole",

I use the word ambitious because Mitchell took a big chance with this format. One gets the sense while reading that this could be something really special, even groundbreaking, but it somehow falls just short. Still very good, still well worth reading, but damn, what could have been.

Disclosure: I listened to this on audiobook which is not my usual way of reading. Using the word "reading" even sounds disingenuous. I'm not discountting the use of audiobooks; I certainly see their value and necessity, and for some books it may be the best way to experience them. I think that's the case with this book. This multi-cast of narrator/actor's were perfect. What they achieved was far above what my imagination could produce, especially relating to language, dialect, accents, etc. Highly recommended.

I was a third into this book and I could not care less about it. It didn't seem we were meant to be.

Then suddenly my heart was aching for the characters and their stories, and it did catch me by surprise.

And now it's been a week since I finished it, and I still find myself thinking about it. 'Okay, you win, book!' I have to admit grudgingly. You've wormed your way into my heart and I'd better make my peace with it.

Why did I resist liking it so much? Why did this book and I have such a rocky start to our relationship? Sheesh, let me think about it as I lie here on the imaginary psychiatrist's couch in Freudian times.



You see, its 'revolutionary structure' and all - it is basically six stories, five of which are arranged like concentric rings around one central uninterrupted story, slowly moving from A to Z as the stories go along (from Adam to Zachry), - leads even the author to question,n  "Revolutionary or gimmicky?"n
And I say - gimmicky, my friend. Jarring, unnecessary, trying too hard and yet being needlessly distracting.


(Hey, you can also compare this book to the rings a raindrop makes in still waters. See, I can be allegorically poetic when need arises).

Would I have been easier for me to love it had it come simply as a collection of six stories related by the larger overarching theme? Perhaps. But we cannot always chose what the things we love look like, can we? Sometimes they just have to have that incredibly annoying anvil-heavy comet-shaped birthmark, and I have to make my peace with it.

"Another war is always coming, Robert. They are never properly extinguished. What sparks wars? The will to power, the backbone of human nature. The threat of violence, the fear of violence, or actual violence is the instrument of this dreadful will. You can see the will to power in bedrooms, kitchens, factories, unions, and the borders of states. Listen to this and remember it. The nation-state is merely human nature inflated to monstrous proportions. QED, nations are entities whose laws are written by violence. Thus it ever was, so ever shall it be. War, Robert, is one of humanity's two eternal companions."

This book is a message, yes. About the never-ending power struggle that seems to be inherent to humanity, that drives it forward - until one day it perhaps drives it to the brink of demise. It's about the amazing resilience of humanity that bends but never breaks under the never-ending forward march of the power struggle. It is about our seemingly inevitable separation into the opposing camps - the oppressors and the oppressed, the powerful and the powerless, the haves and the have-nots, justifying those sometimes murky and sometimes crisp division lines with the arbitrary but hard-to-overturn notions of superiority and entitlement. It is also about the never-ending human struggle against such division, in one form or another.

"But, Adam, the world is wicked. Maoris prey on Moriori, Whites prey on darker-hued cousins, fleas prey on mice, cats prey on rats, Christians on infidels, first mates on cabin boys, Death on the Living. The weak are meat, the strong do eat."

.........................

The first/last story of Adam and the central/middle story of Zachry (again, A to Z! See how smart I am? See? Can I please have a cookie now?) provide the real framework to this story, mirroring each other and reflecting off each other in the repeated motifs of tribal wars and slaughter and the meeting of 'developed' and 'primitive' nations, told from the viewpoints of members of first one and then another and underscoring essential humanity below all the superstitions and prejudices and mistrust. The revelations at which both Adam and Zachry arrive are simple and perhaps overly moralistic, but still relevant and humane. And despite the moralistic heavy-handedness, I loved them.

"Why? Because of this: — one fine day, a purely predatory world shall consume itself. Yes, the Devil shall take the hindmost until the foremost is the hindmost. In an individual, selfishness uglifies the soul; for the human species, selfishness is extinction."

As for the rest of the stories, David Mitchell plays with every genre and style he can imagine, trying to fully immerse himself in the period, real or imaginary, that he chooses to describe - with mixed results, at least for me.

I hate to say it, but Robert Frobisher's story (the composer of the titular Cloud Atlas musical piece) left me cold. Luisa Rey's pulpy cheap prose held my attention only for the first half of the story and Timothy Cavendish's flowery adventure - only for the second. Sonmi-451 for the first half of the story was delightfully reminding me of The Windup Girl that I loved, and fell flat in the rushed second part. It almost felt that some of these stories were too large for the limited amount of space Mitchell could give them, and they would have been benefited from expansion.

But the Sloosha Crossing story - Zachry's tale - won me over completely, once I got over the migraine induced by overabundance of apostrophes in this futuristic simplistic dialect. S'r's'l'y', Mr. Mitchell, there had to have been some perhaps less 'authentic' but also less headache-causing way to tell this story. But I got over the initial defensive response and allowed myself to enjoy this scary postapocalyptic setting which in so many ways reminded me of The Slynx by Tatiana Tolstaya. There is just something that I love about the postapocalyptic primitive society setup, something that speaks to me while terrifying me to death at the same time, and this story had plenty of that.

And now, apparently, there will be a movie, which explains why everyone and their grandma is reading this book now, getting me on the bandwagon as well. The movie, that from the trailer seems to be focusing on the part that made me eye-roll (just like it made Mr. Cavendish, editing Luisa Rey manuscript!) - that damn souls connectedness bit. I thought the hints at it were unnecessary dramatic; to me enough of a connection came from all of the characters belonging to our troubled and yet resilient human race. But to each their own.

"He who would do battle with the many-headed hydra of human nature must pay a world of pain & his family must pay it along with him! & only as you gasp your dying breath shall you understand, your life amounted to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean!" Yet what is any ocean but a multitude of drops?"

4 stars is the final verdict. And maybe someday in the future I will reread it being prepared for the gimmicky structure, and I will not let it annoy me, and I will maybe give it five stars. I would love that!

——————
Recommended by: Kris

Ο ατλας του ουρανου: γινεται να χαρτογραφησει κανεις τον ουρανο(ή τα συννεφα οπως λεει ο τιτλος του πρωτοτυπου)?προφανως και οχι.αλλαζουν θεση, αλλαζουν σχήματα. Μετουσιωνονται μεσα σε αυτο το βιβλιο.σε ημερολογια, σε μουσικα κομματια, σε σημαδια στο σωμα..οπως οι ψυχες. Η μετενσαρκωση εχει και σε αυτο το βιβλιο του Μιτσελ(οπως και στο δεντρο της τυχης) εξεχουσα θεση.ετσι λοιπον οι 6 ιστοριες που παρουσιαζονται, παρολες τις διαφορες τους -κυριως στην εποχη που εκτυλλισονται, αλλα και στο ειδος τους(αστυνομικο, ιστορικο, sci-fi)-εχουν και πολλες ομοιοτητες.προσωπα που νομιζαμε οτι αφησαμε πισω εμφανιζονται με ξεχωριστο τροπο ξανα και ξανα και κυριως ολα αυτα εκτυλλισονται γυρω απο εναν βασικο αξονα: την ανικανοποιητη φυση του ανθρωπου. Την συνεχη επιθυμια του δυνατου να φαει(εντός και εκτος εισαγωγικων) τον αδυναμο .ομως ειναι ετσι η δικαιοσυνη που υπαρχει στο συμπαν που ενω ο δυνατος φαινεται να κερδιζει, ουσιαστικα ο λιγοτερο ευνοημενος ειναι αυτος που σε ολες τις περιπτωσεις παιρνει τα πιο σημαντικα μαθηματα και μπορει να μετουσιωσει τον εαυτο του σε κατι καλυτερο..
Το βιβλιο αυτο λοιπον ΝΑΙ αξιζει 100% τον "θορυβο" που το ακολουθει.ειναι ξεχωριστο σε ολα του.στον τροπο γραφης, στους χαρακτηρες που με τοσο βαθος μας παρουσιαζονται, στο πως αριστοτεχνικα 6 φαινομενικα τελειως διαφορετικες ιστοριες δενουν, στο οτι τα ειδη τους ειναι τοσο διαφορετικα που δεν μπορει κανεις να πιστεψει οτι ολα τα εγραψε το ιδιο χερι, σε αυτες ολες τις μικρες λεπτομερειες που δινει ο Μιτσελ κλείνοντας το ματι στον αναγνωστη.ειναι ενα βιβλιο -εμπειρια που μου ξυπνησε πολλα συναοσθηματα: συγκινηση, λυπη, γελιο, προβληματισμο.και ολα εδεσαν μεταξυ τους μαγικα..

One of the most outstanding, hugely epic literary sagas ever. There seem to be six distinct writers in "Cloud Atlas"--distinct, original, "where the heck did these EVEN come from?"-type tableaux: their compilation suggesting that the boundaries of writing are endless. Mitchell is authentic in every story. These really are "found objects" placed in blatant, cunning contrast with each other. But that they were all borne from one fountainhead--from one single and chameleonic (probably the most chameleonic I have encountered since Peruvian Mario Vargas Llosa's) mind--this is the reason the novel is now a classic.

The movie is a very adequate companion piece, as the myriad loose ends are genuinely brought forth & rendered poetic. Really truly & madly love 'em both!

Given that to review Cloud Atlas has become a perilous activity in GR, since it can elicit all kinds of backlashes and from a variety of stands, I will only include an innocent declaration of intent.

In respect to the book and to the following incumbents: the author David Mitchell, the publisher, the editors, the printers, any reading groups, any member readers in GR, whether friends or followed or followers, any member of Management in GR, and even, yes! even the new owners of GR.

I, Kalliope of GoodReads, and any other of my possible avatars, both past and future, as well as my mortal and limited self, do not wish to:

Annoy, pester, criticize, torment, blame, madden, provoke, badger, despise, anger, bother, vilify, exasperate, scorn, displease, insult, irritate, tease, mock, taunt, vituperate, reproach, revile, affront, slam, rile, deride, abuse, outrage, irk, offend, vex, bully, belittle, nor show any disrespect to the aforementioned.

Nor do I, Kalliope of GoodReads, and any other of my possible avatars, both past and future, as well as my mortal and limited self, do not wish to:

Congratulate, applaud, cheer, hail, laud, pay homage, honor, admire, eulogize, flatter, sanctify, commemorate, acclaim, glorify, idolize, boost, cherish, venerate, revere, exalt, rave, fete, esteem, praise, celebrate, approve, solemnize, chant, adore, commend, bless, extol, compliment, proclaim, nor endorse anything nor anybody of the aforementioned.

I also wish to add that the above declaration has been submitted with the conviction that it is reliable and that it has been narrated in good faith.


As for my stars… well yes, I’ll have to admit the five stars.


P.S.: I just hope now that with the above disclaimer I shall not fall prey to anyone or to anything and that civilization will continue its proper march undeterred.

3.50 Stars — It might not be for everyone and it is a novel of some very potently ambiguous passages, however it must be said, Cloud Atlas is a whimsical thoroughfare into What an absolute powerhouse of a novel! It’s extremely hard to know where to even decipher what a beginning is, post finishing this behemoth. Let alone find then where to place the beginning when discussing Cloud Atlas.

I’ve wanted to read this for years. But I’d always been hesitant and put-off the venture by either someone else whom loved it, hated it or by perhaps hearing far too much commentary to feel confident I could approach it on merit alone. But here we are!

I am nowhere near ready to to give even my briefest thoughts on this, other than to say it’s clearly a work of breathtaking scope and clearly comes from a mind that is perhaps some sort of literary-demon, but one that writes with a blistering intensity that somehow manages to harmonise with the inner-voice of the reader to create a demonic-bird tweeting beautiful tones from a hellish conductor!

Yes, some sorts do feel slightly over-indulgent and perhaps a little too ‘on-the-nose’ in parts. But such is the magnum-opus like structure of this futuristic, adventure, fantasy, drama, magical and poetic monster, you cannot help but in moments take it all in which a degree of unadulterated wonder at how some one could conceive such an elongated, elaborate, deliberate & inspired narrative, and world that embarks on a journey you can’t help but feel as though is really there somehow.

The soul of a person is that intangible, invisible truth we all hope is more than many generationally handed-down custom. It’s what we feel to be even more human than our bodies and minds — Cloud Atlas is — for the most part — A journey of one soul that spans centuries, and despite never really being conscious of its former selves, it is comforting and also wondrous to imagine a truth as powerful as this one and Mitchell does a solid job of installing that little flutter in the reader that ultimately connects us all to its core message.

Overall, there are some tougher parts, it’s not an easy read most of the time — but it has a pay off I feel is worth the effort if you’re a fellow monster-sized-book tragic like myself.

"Yet what is any ocean but a multitude of drops?"

Another book of David Mitchell's where my thoughts are running in a thousand different directions. And yes, another one where my mind has exploded