Cloud Atlas Review

David Mitchell's Cloud Atlas gripped me from the table of contents. The book is comprised of 6 stories, separated by time, but with thematic and inter-personal intersections which cascade through time. The chapters are arranged palindromically (i.e. A-B-C-D-E-F-E-D-C-B-A, with each letter representing a unique story, split into two parts), and being a bit obsessed with palindromes, my interest was piqued.

The first half of the book is an ascent through time, from the 1850s, through the present, and into the future while the latter half of the book descends through the same periods. Such a structure could be indicative of an ingenious narratival device, or a cheap gimmick that doesn't bear any fruit. In a meta moment during the Letters from Zedelghem story, Robert Frobisher -- the protagonist of the second story and a musical apprentice to a famous, genius composer -- describes the magnum opus that he is composing (independent of his mentor) in a letter to his friend:

"[A] sextet for overlapping soloists": piano, clarinet, 'cello, flute, oboe, and violin, each in its own language of key, scale, and color. In the first set, each solo is interrupted by its successor; in the second, each interruption is recontinued, in order. Revolutionary or gimmicky? Shan't know until it's finishished and by then it'll be too late.

 This is clearly a metaphor for the structure of the book itself, whose individual sections are also in their own "key, scale, and color" (or voice, genre, and style). And while I wouldn't go as far as "revolutionary", it isn't gimmicky either, but rather is a device that is utilized to a stunning, effective end.

Each of the stories work well on their own as stories. The characters are well-rendered, the stories pulse ahead in lively fashion, and the prose is excellent in the varying styles. If this were a short story collection instead of a novel, it would be a tremendous collection. But the structure, the intersections through time, and the handling of the themes -- the rise and fall of civilizations (or ascent and descent generally), the nature of culture, the human condition, imprisonment and escape -- as they appear in each of the narratives, elevate it and keep it from seeming as if it is merely a series of unrelated stories with a tacked-on way of connecting them. Instead, the stories inform and enrich one another, fleshing out characters and illuminating ideas.

While all of the stories have much to recommend them, the two that occur in the future and at the apex of the book -- An Orison of Sonmi 451 and Sloosha's Crossin' An' Ev'rythin After -- were especially impactful in the way that they bring the threads of the book to fruition. The way the stories give glimpses of both a dystopian future and a post-apocalyptic distant future that follows it is an imaginative feat which isn't quite replicated by the stories set in the present and the past.

Astonishingly -- given the scope of the novel -- a film adaptation directed by the Wachowski brothers (The Matrix) is slated for release later this year. One could easily envision an invigorating, satisfying film culled from the world of the Sonmi narrative alone, but faithfully translating this entire novel seems a tall task. It will be interesting to see how much is lost in translation.

Cloud Atlas explores how the unfolding of time provides a backdrop for the story of humanity. It accounts for the variables and the universals; the feats of heroism and villainy; the rises and falls. While this can be done -- to some degree -- in a single story, the structural novelty along with Mitchell's gift for storytelling open up space for a richness and depth that is otherwise very difficult to achieve.

Gay Marriage and Christian Penitence

Over at Patheos Christian Piatt has a piece in which he describes his experience at a Gay Pride parade in Portland where he and his wife wore sandwich boards with the following message:

According to Piatt, humbly begging for forgiveness from the Gay Community on behalf of all Christians (whom, it's worth noting, he doesn't necessarily speak for) in Portland at a Gay Pride parade is a daring act of courage that could possibly carry dire consequences. Consequences such as, I suppose, being accepted and extremely well-liked.

If you carried a "Homosexuality is a Sin" or a "Marriage is a Sacrament, Not a Right" sign, then you'd be taking a stand for the faith which almost certainly would get scorn and derision directed at you. Not that I would recommend such a tact, but let's be honest about what is and what is not an unpopular stance at a particular venue. There's scarcely anything safer or more in line with current cultural trends than gestures toward the LGBT community in this vein, especially at a Gay Pride parade in Portland.

This fact in itself doesn't mean that such gestures are wrong (though I think they are), but even bracketing out that question -- and saving it for another blog, perhaps -- it's objectively not the case that it's a stance very likely to cost you anything. Not even so much as being mildly disliked.

John Roberts' Staining of the Court

I've declined to do much blogging on political topics of late, content to leave the task to others more capable and knowledgeable than myself in that area. However, shock, horror, disbelief, and outrage are magnificent motivators to write and have provided fuel for my flame.

Were my angst and discontent over the recent Supreme Court Obamacare ruling a mere matter of technical disagreement on the legal specifics of the case, I would respectfully -- but vehemently -- object to the opinion of Chief Justice John Roberts, siding with the four dissenters. However, the written opinion itself raised questions about whether Roberts' conclusion was purely wrought in the fires of Constitutional jurisprudence, and subsequent information is confirming suspicions that it was not. Instead it seems as if the opinion was the product of the Chief Justice weighing a variety of considerations and interests, many of which have nothing to do with his duties as a faithful interpreter of the text and of the relevant precedents. It's not only that Roberts has erred in his decision, going beyond the principle of generous interpretation and effectively legislating from the bench -- which would be bad enough -- but that his motivations for doing so seem to be concerns which should be, in principle, bracketed out to begin with and never taken into consideration.

Considerations such as the role of Chief Justice as a "steward" of the court, or of "the court's reputation", or making compromises toward some imaginary "long view", or declining to "obstruct" Congress and the President on an important piece of legislation. If faithful, accurate interpretation and application of the Constitution causes the "reputation of the court" to suffer, then please suffer dutifully and with honor. If reading the caterwauling of the elite media class causes you to believe the "reputation of the court" is actually at stake when it isn't, then please put down the New York Times Op-ed page immediately. If it makes you uncomfortable to strike down the cornerstone of a President's political and legislative agenda, then please decline to take the oath of your office which requires you to -- at times -- do precisely that.