Book Review: Ghostwritten, by David Mitchell (1999)

 



This was David Mitchell’s debut novel. As this blog shows, I am a fan of his and have decided to read his remaining works in the order in which they were published. At the time, this book must have been a great taster of what was to come from the author, having a style and structure similar to his later novels that I’ve already enjoyed. Characters also show up here who we get to know better in more prominent roles in his stories that were yet to be written.

The plot jumps from person and place, with the fate of each having an unknown influence on the other characters and scenarios in the book. The death of an expat lawyer in Hong Kong, for example, leads to the collapse of a finance company, causing the demise of a plot to steal masterpieces from the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg. Death, in fact, is a feature of the narrators of the individual sections of this novel, either causing death or reaching death or having death inflicted upon them, living with a ghost, or even not really being alive – one chapter features a disembodied spirit capable of transmigrating between the minds of its human hosts. This nod to death, I imagine, is the significance behind the book’s title.

The story/stories are extremely detailed, characteristically well written, and diverse in style and nature. I’ve already noted Mitchell’s ability to effortlessly switch the pace and discourse of his stories-within-stories, a trick he was evidently adept at right from the start. I enjoyed the novel, but found the individual sections either hit or miss, with those I got into very entertaining to read (‘Hong Kong’, ‘St. Petersburg’, ‘London’, ‘Night Train’, for example) while others rather dragged (‘Mongolia’ in particular, and also ‘Clear Island’). The latter I didn’t enjoy much at all – the story of a genius, rebellious quantum physicist returning to and taking refuge within the community of the tiny Irish island on which she grew up. She is attempting to evade agents from the US government who believe they have a right to some of the content of her brilliant mind. It felt like one long cliché, although in truth I doubt I could find an example of a single cliché within it.

Whilst the plot of this book cannot be described as entirely credible, it picks out threads from the multilinked and layered web of humanity that undoubtedly connects and affects us all, unbeknown, interlinked and susceptible right around the globe. It questions what we have within our own control (microscale much, macroscale little), and points to the role of fate in our lives. Overall, I think this was a great start to David Mitchell’s writing career, with even greater works to come.


Favourite Character: I could choose any of a number from the cast: the young Satoru who followed his heart in Tokyo, the ill-fated Neal Brose in Hong Kong, the resourceful and resilient old woman who ran the Tea Shack on Holy Mountain. However, I think I’ll plump for Marco in London – aware of his shortcomings but true to his beliefs, and ultimately of good conviction.


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