It's taken me a week, but I am now about half way through The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet by David Mitchell.
Mitchell plunges you right into the story, introducing you to Miss Abigawa, a disfigured Japanese mid-wife as she delivers a still born child. You are immediately pulled in as he describes the difficult birth. And then, just as abruptly, at the start of chapter two, Mitchell changes the setting, tone, and voice. It's akin to a slap of cold water - startling and unpleasant, yet somehow refreshing. As your mind races to catch up to the change, you find that you've stumbled (or been thrust) into an equally captivating story whose pace has just picked up considerably. The mind reels in its confusion as you try to take in the new setting, and new characters.
So here's the first snag, even though I am a slow reader (this I credit to never having crawled as a child - but whatever), I am used to a certain pace. I am used to reading one book in one week (with the exception of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell which took me a full month to read - again, whatever).
I am finding myself so enraptured by this story, or series of intertwined stories, that I hesitate to even pick up the book - because I know when I do, I'll be reading until forced to stop. Yesterday, working from home, the book followed me from room to room even though I didn't open it until I was ready for bed. Just one chapter, I told myself... three hours later, when the clock read 1 a.m., I began contemplating the repercussions of staying up all night reading. seriously.
The pace of this book is odd, in that it is both quick and slow. It is propelled by the characters, and how they act and react to their own moral compass. It is layered with multiple story lines, that just seem to increase as you get further into the book - each one tied to, and informing, the other while still somehow remaining independent.
I've come to grips with the fact that this book will not be finished in a week. I wonder though, once finished, if it will still follow me from room to room.
Labels: David Mitchell, Review, the thousand autumns of Jacob de zoet
