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A review by chrissych
The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet by David Mitchell
5.0
I really, deeply enjoyed this book, and I've spent a few days now thinking about why. It's not an exciting read-- indeed, I thought I would give up on it after the first 50 pages took me weeks to get through-- but I found it to be a surprisingly satisfying one. It took me nearly 3 months to read, but I think the slow pace helped me digest and appreciate it. It is a quiet novel, a slow burn that builds steadily with subtle layers of complexity folding in with every shift in perspective. Despite having a titular protagonist, the novel actually moves between the third-person perspectives of about 15 different focal characters and each transition adds its own universe, its own tone, its own point of view to the accumulated understanding of the plot and the actors within it.
On its surface the novel is about the bridging between two worlds; east and west, tradition and innovation, christianity and shintoism (itself conceived of as a bridge between past and present), feudalism and capitalism. These themes are explored extensively through trade and interpersonal relationships between the Japanese and the Dutch, all accommodated by translators and then further translated into English for the reader. Whereas the exploration of these overt themes was thought-provoking, I think my deeper enjoyment of the novel came from the subtext or the corollaries that fall out of the overt themes.
Others have commented that this novel has more of a traditional plot structure than any of Mitchell's other works. Although I generally agree that is structurally more traditional, I would argue that it fills that structure in a very non-traditional way. There are several protagonists and several antagonists, all colliding against one another in a loosely organized chaos. Each focal character gets his or her own climax, and what some might call the ultimate climax of the novel involves the introduction of an 11th hour antagonist and is largely anticlimactic (though not unsatisfying in the slightest). The denouement meanders across the many protagonists, jumps forward in time more than once, and leaves a myriad of loose ends hanging. It shouldn't work as well as it does, from the perspective of traditional storytelling.
Expanding on the explicit themes, what I took from the novel's subtext is this: the bridge between any two minds, any two perspectives, any two lived experiences, are as vast and difficult to navigate as the bridge between two worlds. Loosely organized chaos is the way of the natural world and thus of human experience. Characters make plans and take actions, but the plans and actions of the people around them bump against them and nobody ends up quite where they expect to. Things happen, people act, their actions affect you, and you might never know why because that bridge between your mind and theirs is ultimately impassable. Language serves to translate between two minds, but it is necessarily limited by the different meanings our individual histories have imparted upon the very same words. Everyone is connected but everyone is alone. I will be thinking about this novel for a long time to come.
On its surface the novel is about the bridging between two worlds; east and west, tradition and innovation, christianity and shintoism (itself conceived of as a bridge between past and present), feudalism and capitalism. These themes are explored extensively through trade and interpersonal relationships between the Japanese and the Dutch, all accommodated by translators and then further translated into English for the reader. Whereas the exploration of these overt themes was thought-provoking, I think my deeper enjoyment of the novel came from the subtext or the corollaries that fall out of the overt themes.
Others have commented that this novel has more of a traditional plot structure than any of Mitchell's other works. Although I generally agree that is structurally more traditional, I would argue that it fills that structure in a very non-traditional way. There are several protagonists and several antagonists, all colliding against one another in a loosely organized chaos. Each focal character gets his or her own climax, and what some might call the ultimate climax of the novel involves the introduction of an 11th hour antagonist and is largely anticlimactic (though not unsatisfying in the slightest). The denouement meanders across the many protagonists, jumps forward in time more than once, and leaves a myriad of loose ends hanging. It shouldn't work as well as it does, from the perspective of traditional storytelling.
Expanding on the explicit themes, what I took from the novel's subtext is this: the bridge between any two minds, any two perspectives, any two lived experiences, are as vast and difficult to navigate as the bridge between two worlds. Loosely organized chaos is the way of the natural world and thus of human experience. Characters make plans and take actions, but the plans and actions of the people around them bump against them and nobody ends up quite where they expect to. Things happen, people act, their actions affect you, and you might never know why because that bridge between your mind and theirs is ultimately impassable. Language serves to translate between two minds, but it is necessarily limited by the different meanings our individual histories have imparted upon the very same words. Everyone is connected but everyone is alone. I will be thinking about this novel for a long time to come.