![]() ![]() Mitchell is also a master ventriloquist in "Cloud Atlas" he inhabited the voices of (among others) a flamboyant prewar classical composer, a Raymond Chandler wannabe and a member of a future race of humans bred to serve the upper classes. The weird world Mitchell tends in his mind is continuous throughout his oeuvre in "The Bone Clocks," readers may recognize a few old friends from "The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet," "Black Swan Green," "Cloud Atlas" - all the way back to Mitchell's debut, "Ghostwritten." Mitchell's best-known work, "Cloud Atlas," advanced over a span of centuries, chapter by chapter, starting in the mid-1800s and arriving at some distant postapocalyptic future - then wound backward the same way it came. His books involve a lot of metaphysical whiz-bangery. Mitchell's peripatetic prose skips across the globe, its author displaying an impressive authority wherever he lands. Mitchell is the British wunderkind, twice shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize, whose ambitious novels tend to belong to their own sort of genre: postmodern-ish, exuberantly written, with an archivist's affection for the dusty corners of history. But because this is a book by David Mitchell, things are an order of magnitude more complicated. Decent ingredients for a satisfying thriller. ![]()
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