David Mitchell
Earlier this month, acclaimed author David Mitchell’s newest novel The Bone Clocks was released across the globe. Mitchell is one of my favorite writers — he has an uncanny ability to craft endlessly fascinating stories, my favorite being his epic Cloud Atlas. When I heard that the Sixth & I Historic Synagogue in D.C. was hosting a book reading and signing for the new book, I quickly bought a ticket, excited to finally meet one of my favorite writers in person.
Just boiling down Mitchell’s works into their formalistic descriptions — nine narrators from around the world whose lives intertwine in ways they never known (Ghostwritten); a deluge of dream imagery in which it’s difficult to tell what’s real (Number9dream); six stories within stories that interrupt each other halfway and then go backward to complete themselves (Cloud Atlas); a semi-autobiographical novel about growing up with a stammer in 1980s England (Black Swan Green) — showcases his flair for innovation and unique structure.
Cloud Atlas, arguably Mitchell’s best work, remains his most famous. It inspired a film version by the Wachowskis in 2012 — an incredibly polarizing film that was either hailed as a masterpiece or derided as an awful slog. It’s partly because of the inherent difficulty in filming Mitchell’s novels – the shifting prose styles of Cloud Atlas, for example, are just as interesting as the plot and characters. He deftly switches from 17th-century journals to Cold War-era spy thrillers to science fiction dystopias — it’s difficult to remember that you’re even reading from the same author, that all of these thoughts and words came from the whirling mind of just one man.
All of these complicated forms, plus Mitchell’s expansive vocabulary and his sense of trusting the readers enough to connect the narrative dots, makes it seem like Mitchell might be a quiet, intellectual person ill at ease in a large crowd. Taking my seat in the beautiful synagogue, clutching my reassuringly large glossy hardback of The Bone Clocks, I wondered if I would regret finding out what Mitchell was like in person.
Thankfully, I had nothing to fear. Mitchell entered to applause, smiling and looking slightly embarrassed. He talked about how ideally he’d hop around to the six different narrator sections of The Bone Clocks in his reading, but realized the spoiler minefield he would have walked us through. Instead, he jumped around the first section, giving us the necessary details to fill in where he was. “For this you’re going to have to imagine that I’m a 15-year old punk girl running away from home,” he said to a laughing crowd. “I know you’re all capable of that.”
After the reading was done — interrupted with funny comments about the differences between American and British English — the Q-and-A section began. Mitchell gave each question a lot of thought, and though his answers would tend to stray from the exact topic into reflections on art, writing and life, they were always interesting and almost as beautifully arranged as his novels’ prose.
In response to a question about his writing process, he responded that the unique structures of his novels are usually not intentionally made to be esoteric or radically different. He simply molds the stories into the forms that matter the most. He said that structure, plot, characters and themes were all equally important, but different novels would tend to have one of those elements more refined from the beginning (like Cloud Atlas, which had its nesting doll structure planned before anything else).
Not one to pass up the opportunity to actually speak with one of my literary idols, I stood patiently in line, a million possible questions spinning in my head. “What’s your inspiration?” is never a good question — writers get inspired from anything and often don’t remember the accretion of moments, thoughts and images that make a story. I decided instead to go for a more personal question. “Your novels take place all around the world, and I know you lived in Japan for a long time. What’s your favorite place in the world? What place inspires you, not just as a writer, but a person?”
He thought for a moment, then told me that it was a beautiful question. “Are you asking for my Rivendell?” he said, smiling. (For the uninformed, Rivendell is a place of unparalleled beauty in the Lord of the Rings series). Yes, that was exactly what I was asking. He proceeded to talk about a place in Japan where he proposed to his wife before saying the entirety of Japan was his favorite place. He then started talking about how fiction itself was a sort of place, and the magic of transporting yourself to another world never lost its wonder.
After the questions ended, he signed my copy, even remembering I asked the question. “Are you a writer?” he asked. “I’d like to think so,” I said. He then took the book back and wrote “Good luck!”
David Mitchell is one of the greatest writers of our generation, crafting brilliantly original work that shrugs off all attempts at categorization or genre-boxing. Yet his books aren’t sterile or intellectually cold — underneath every narrative flourish is a vibrant character with all the hopes, dreams, and contradictions of the best of humanity. Walking back to the Metro that night, I clutched my copy of The Bone Clocks, inscribed with the good wishes of one of my favorite writers ever. Homework, classes and the regular trials of life await me, but the world of that book keeps calling from underneath paper and ink — a doorway to everything that makes life worth living.
