Oh David Mitchell. I love Cloud Atlas and engage in heavy petting with Black Swan Green whenever the opportunity presents itself, but I pretty aggressively hated Ghostwritten. My relationship with Thousand Autumns is tumultuous.First off, it is too damned hot for all these Dutch names. I'm having trouble remembering where I store the cereal so to keep Vorstenbosch and Van Cleef separate is more than I can juggle. Or Hashihime and Hatsune, for that matter (on account of the Dutchmen are in Japan). Summertime is hard on my synapses, and no light beach read, this.
Ok so. Jacob de Zoet (he of the thousand autumns) is a clerk in a Dutch trading outpost in late 18th century Japan. There was, apparently, a weird block of time (200 years-sh) in Japan where you could check out any time you liked but you could never leave, i.e. no foreigners in, no Japanese out. This is then, except that on this tiny outpost some select foreigners could come for trade. Like the Dutch.
Back to the clerk. He falls in love with a midwife. There are some shady doings vis a vis the copper trade, with which he may or may not, intentionally or otherwise, have something to do. The midwife is kidnapped and spirited away to a secret nunnery, about which there are APPALLING SECRETS! A handful of people are murdered by 'bandits.'
On the skim it sounds like dramatics and ne'er-do-wellery and cannons (there are definitely cannons) but on the real it is s.l.o.w.g.o.i.n.g. 500 is a lot of pages when there are no vampires, and very little in the way of mad relatives. But if you give yourself time and read mostly in the evenings, when you can tell Dr Maeno from Dr Marinus, TTAOJdZ will repay you with backrubs.*
A substandard David Mitchell is still better than a poke in the eye, and by 'substandard' I mostly just mean that this book isn't Black Swan Green. So few books are, alas. I imagine it'll be the toast of many towns regardless, it just won't join the ranks of Books In My Harem.
Seven and a half caterpillars.
Requisite ass-covering: book received from RandomHouse.
*disclaimer: backrubs may be metaphorical and/or of the mind
Second Opinions
The Mookse and the Gripes
