The Bone Clocks

It is always clearly obvious when a special book passes through our book club. The comments and speculation on theme, plot and style start early, long before the scheduled discussion, and the general vibe during the meeting is turned up a notch or two.

Such was the case this month with David Mitchell’s latest novel The Bone Clocks. This book is so cram-packed with discussion material, it is hard to know where to start. The struggle between good and evil is clearly the over-riding theme, but Mitchell does this age-old conflict with such a new and exciting mix of realism and fantasy that he creates a literary vortex of deception, trickery and fifth dimensional combat. Once in there, literally impossible to pull out!

Not to everyone’s taste certainly, but the majority of our group loved this book. It breaks many grammatical rules and the narrative style does not come under the category of ‘easy reading’, but Mitchell’s craft of spinning an intertwining, complex tale of other worlds has to be appreciated. The topical subjects that he constantly plants within his plot make what might be a pure fantasy into something relevant.
Also admirable, is the fact that he can organise his stories to include references to his other novels, which are undetectable unless you’ve read them. And we agreed that the reoccurring precense of Holly’s character helped with stablising the story’s course.

It may sound like a difficult read, and some of us checked out the many online reviews to help with some clarifications of plot, (there are moments when a reader can easily get lost) and some found copious notes helped, but either way, it was a great effort by everyone to tackle this book and the majority of us feel it was an amazing read … one that scored high and will no doubt be a strong contender for our favourite book this year.

I have to admit I was a bit disappointed with this novel especially after all the positive reviews I've heard about both Cloud Atlas and David Mitchell as an author. I'm wondering if perhaps I picked the wrong book by Mitchell to read first, or if I would have been just as disappointed no matter what title I began with. Having said that I still fully intend to read his other works and let me add that The Bone Clock wasn't horrible but it felt almost rushed and even a little half-assed, to me, like maybe it wasn't quite as put together or developed as it could have been because it's writer was under contract and had a deadline to make...but that's just my personal speculation. ( )

This was my third attempt to read The Bone Clocks, and I desperately wanted to lie it (or at least to finish it this time). I am still trying to decide what I think of it. Much of it - indeed, most of it - was marvellously entertaining, written with Mitchell's customary verve. I did, however, struggle to enjoy the rest of it, and as that might be said to be the crucial part, I suppose that now I just have to write it off as something that didn’t work for me.

Like his earlier novel, the marvellous Cloud Atlas, this book features several narratives delivered in the first person by a selection of different characters. The first is recounted by Holly Sykes, who leaves her home in Gravesend in 1984, aged 15, following a cataclysmic argument with her mother. The succeeding chapters are related by different characters who encounter Holly over the course of the next fifty or so years.

Some of those succeeding chapters are excellent. My favourite section of Cloud Atlas, which featured an almost concentric chapter structure, was 'The Ghastly Ordeal Of Timothy Cavendish' which recounted the travails visited upon an opportunist but seldom successful publisher. I found that 'Crispin Hershey's Lonely Planet' formed a close counterpart to this in the new novel, and I especially enjoyed the literary poisoned darts that Hershey/Mitchell threw out at some readily identifiable literary sacred cows of the present day.

There was, however, a more troubling side to the book. Throughout the novel there are references to a struggle between The Horology and The Anchorites, two warring bands of people with their own respective brands of superpowers. The members of the Horology move from one carrier body to another, repeatedly inhabiting new forms and extending their lives over centuries or even, in the case of Esther Little, over millennia. The Anchorites also have paranormal abilities but their particular twist is to aspire towards eternal youth. These two groups are in perpetual enmity, and episodes of their combat intrude into the otherwise 'normal' activities captured in the novel.

As always with Mitchell, the book is beautifully written. The separate narratives each demonstrate their own style, quite plausibly suggesting completely different authors, and he effortlessly conveys their respective social and emotional hinterlands. Throughout the greater part of the book, everyone behaves entirely credibly, and the book builds to an enchanting climax. Sadly, the final section of the book simply defeated me.

I am willing to accept the charge of being a hidebound traditionalist, perhaps simply too middle aged and middle class, but I found this exceptionally annoying, and it detracted significantly from my enjoyment of the book. If I had wanted to read a science fiction story of that type I would have bought an Iain M Banks book and struggled to suspend my disbelief sufficiently. I would, however, at least have had some idea of what I was letting myself in for. I expected rather better of David Mitchell. To be fair, the good bits were exceptionally good, but the overall work just could have been much better. ( )

I gave up after 400 pages. Just cannot take in any more information, new characters, new places, new descriptions. I am overdosed. You cannot expect a reader to work his way through five (well-written, I admit, but dense) unfinished novels each of which over 100 pages, only to bring all of them to a conclusion in the last 100 pages. I always distrust novels with over 400 pages and this one, unfortunately, is a confirmation. As Ursula LeGuin writes in her Guardian review, the author leaves the reader in too much doubt whether this is worthwhile the effort of reading. Such a pity as I admire Cloud Atlas very much. ( )

It was too descriptive and nit enough story.