●●●●●

 

David Mitchell’s latest offering is staggering in scope. It spans continents, decades, and genres, but never loses sight of the individual. It draws attention to the difference that can often be found between the official and the personal history, and the people that make up globally important events.

In The Bone Clocks Mitchell focuses on what are referred to as “small-scale” tragedies, a problematic phrase that the novel addresses, against a backdrop of global disaster. Mitchell is relentless in his exposure of the pain that can come from love, whether romantic, platonic, or familial. Missing children fill the pages of the novel, due to the actions of the Anchorites, a cult of immortals who prolong their lives by “decanting” the souls of psychically-inclined children. While this is played out on a grand scale, our attention is directed towards those people who have been left to cope with the devastation of a missing child, without even a body to provide closure.

The Bone Clocks, as well as being a stand-alone book, manages to link all of Mitchell’s previous novels, and reworks our understanding of various characters and scenes. Thus, it runs the risk of only appealing to diehard fans, but Mitchell avoids this trap by making us empathise his new characters, rather than relying on familiar faces. At times you will feel that you cannot possibly read fast enough, and Mitchell demonstrates his consummate skill as a storyteller, manipulating the pace of the narrative expertly.

One character says, “A book can’t be a half-fantasy any more than a woman can be half-pregnant,” and here Mitchell pokes fun at his own literary inclinations; The Bone Clocks is a fantasy novel, but it is at its best when it deals with the consequences of the fantastical for ordinary humans. Although you may feel tempted to rush through it, resist the urge: it will be another four years before we see a new Mitchell novel, and you’ll miss it when it’s over.