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chantaal 's review for:
The Bone Clocks
by David Mitchell
Actual review (sort of):
Finally finished this in a blurry haze last night (some of that blur came from tears, I'll admit) and like every other David Mitchell book I've read, I'm completely unable to write a review.
The Bone Clocks doesn't quite reach the dizzying heights Cloud Atlas did for me -- will any book? -- but there's some damn good character work here. The fantastical aspect is intriguing and unique, as far as I can tell. Though it took a while for the fantasy to be more than just bits and pieces in the first few sections, when we finally reach the actual meaty plot of the novel, we've traversed decades and touched different aspects of Holly Sykes' life through her eyes and the eyes of others who knew her.
Each character section is incredibly compelling, with the sort of full immersion that Mitchell is a master of - Holly sounds completely different from Hugo and Crispin, etc. Crispin Hershey was probably my favorite of the character studies, considering just how much development he goes through. By the time his section ended, I was...angry, I'd say? So much going, and to have it just stop was frustrating.
That's the mark of how easily it was to get into the heads of these characters - unfortunately, in the case of Hugo Lamb. Ugh. Uuuuggghhhh.
I won't lie and say I wasn't super excited to see some familiar names from other Mitchell novels. It makes it feel like there's some larger, interconnected universe at play, and I like thinking that all the characters I've loved from his other novels are still wandering around, having lives and interacting just slightly with other characters.
Anyway. I suppose that was something of a review. A mess, I'd say, but after reading hundreds of pages of David Mitchell, anything I write anywhere would seem a mess.
Here's to another few years waiting for a Mitchell novel!
August 8th edit: LESS THAN ONE MONTH LEFT!
This wait is just as terrible as the waits between Cloud Atlas and Black Swan Green and The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet -- I'm used to waiting for books from you, David Mitchell, BUT THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT ANY EASIER.
I'm just gonna go keep re-reading his twitter short story The Right Sort until then, I guess. Sigh.
Original ridiculous note: What do I have to do to get this in my life NOW??
Finally finished this in a blurry haze last night (some of that blur came from tears, I'll admit) and like every other David Mitchell book I've read, I'm completely unable to write a review.
The Bone Clocks doesn't quite reach the dizzying heights Cloud Atlas did for me -- will any book? -- but there's some damn good character work here. The fantastical aspect is intriguing and unique, as far as I can tell. Though it took a while for the fantasy to be more than just bits and pieces in the first few sections, when we finally reach the actual meaty plot of the novel, we've traversed decades and touched different aspects of Holly Sykes' life through her eyes and the eyes of others who knew her.
Each character section is incredibly compelling, with the sort of full immersion that Mitchell is a master of - Holly sounds completely different from Hugo and Crispin, etc. Crispin Hershey was probably my favorite of the character studies, considering just how much development he goes through. By the time his section ended, I was...angry, I'd say? So much going, and to have it just stop was frustrating.
That's the mark of how easily it was to get into the heads of these characters - unfortunately, in the case of Hugo Lamb. Ugh. Uuuuggghhhh.
I won't lie and say I wasn't super excited to see some familiar names from other Mitchell novels. It makes it feel like there's some larger, interconnected universe at play, and I like thinking that all the characters I've loved from his other novels are still wandering around, having lives and interacting just slightly with other characters.
Anyway. I suppose that was something of a review. A mess, I'd say, but after reading hundreds of pages of David Mitchell, anything I write anywhere would seem a mess.
Here's to another few years waiting for a Mitchell novel!
August 8th edit: LESS THAN ONE MONTH LEFT!
This wait is just as terrible as the waits between Cloud Atlas and Black Swan Green and The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet -- I'm used to waiting for books from you, David Mitchell, BUT THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT ANY EASIER.
I'm just gonna go keep re-reading his twitter short story The Right Sort until then, I guess. Sigh.
Original ridiculous note: What do I have to do to get this in my life NOW??