Am I the only one who had to restart this novel three times? It is set in a very unfamiliar place (the artificial island of Dejima, off Nagasaki) in an unfamiliar time (late 18th century), and filled with characters from all kinds of places, with all kinds of stations in life--in short, a bit har...
Mitchell is a virtuoso writer, so basically cannot construct an infelicitous sentence or boring story. But here he borrows elements from "Ghostbusters II" (evil spirit in a painting), Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (in a pinch, a soul takes refuge in someone else's body and must later emerge) an...
In Memory of Double BillsI saw a lot of double bills in the heyday of independent cinemas.They weren’t just two current release films that had been packaged to eke out some extra dollars for the exhibitor. They were carefully curated films that shared a theme and formed part of a whole season of ...
There are so many people living in the world. We jostle up against each other in subway stations in Tokyo.We crowd into art galleries in Petersburg, vying for the best location to view the masterpieces on display.We take trains and planes around the world, with mountains, plains, rivers, valleys,...
'Maybe the meaning of life lies in looking for it.'Like the song by John Lennon which inspired the title of this novel, David Mitchell plays with the fusion of dreams and reality as he sends the reader spiraling through the chimerical passages of Number9dream. This second novel is a departure ...
'The world unmakes stuff faster than people can make it.'Month by month our lives spiral forth into the future, with each moment shaping who we are and who we will become. It is no wonder that the pivotal years of adolescence, the stage of development classified by Erik Erikson as the Identity v...
Now there’s a name! No apostrophe so we can’t be sure that the weld – the joining of two metal parts together – belongs to the defector or defectors. But, as apostrophes are often omitted in names of businesses (Waterstones, where you may well have bought this book, have dispensed with theirs) we...
. . but the smells of sour tatami, greasy candles and stale smoke deny her any illusion of release. She hears the tap, tap, tap of the women's tobacco pipes. During the night, fleas or lice feasted on her neck, breast and midriff. In Nagasaki, she thinks, just two days east, the maples will still...
pronounces Axel Hardwick, astrophysics postgrad, corduroy-clad, hair short, black and curly, real name Alan not Axel, but he thinks Axel makes him sound more Guns N’ Roses. Axel looks at us as if we’re the ones who haven’t bothered turning up. “Some shrinkage is inevitable as the dead wood drops ...
I think I might feel guilty about expressing hatred for the internet if there were any chance that it would thereby be stopped. I might pause to consider its blessings and possibilities if its fate were genuinely in my hands. But, for some reason, it’s not – so I reckon I can let rip in slagging ...
I'M STILL IN THE HOSPICE. IT'S NOT clear where Ronnie is. He's lying on the bed, same as he was. But with his eyes closed, his breath a series of uneven sighs, it's clear he's somewhere else. Not gone, but going. I hadn't gotten too far into my monologue when Ronnie's nurs...
