David Mitchell - "The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet"
David Mitchell has quickly become known as one of the most ambitious and versatile novelists in contemporary literature. With his first four novels, all published within a frantic seven year period, he has shown a penchant for pushing confidently into new horizons in both plot structure and form. He has proven to be like the great rock bands (late Beatles, R.E.M.) who were not content to recycle the same sound on every album, but instead crafted an individual voice with each serving; one that is at once recognizable as the artists’, but unique within their canon. A tough trick. However, Mitchell is just such an artist.
From the nine interlinking stories crisscrossing the globe in his first novel, Ghostwritten, to the Russian nesting doll structure of Cloud Atlas and the simpler, semi-autobiographical Black Swan Green, Mitchell has never gone down the same road twice. Yet his work is highly recognizable by their dense plots, intricate use of language, and vivid characterizations. Pet themes, like the consequences of technological advances and even characters, form a thin thread throughout his work. His writing has been frequently compared to Nabokov and Tolstoy, but I would throw Murakami in as well. Writing for Mitchell is like solving a puzzle, and the reader is aptly rewarded for his ambitions
.His latest novel, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, is Mitchell’s first foray into the historical novel. Or partly historical anyway. The novel is set at the turn of the nineteenth century on the man-made island of Deijima, off the Japanese city of Nagasaki. Deijima did exist. It was there that for two hundred years the Dutch East India Company operated a limited trading post with Japan. Though important economically, the small number of Dutch (and sometimes other Europeans) who lived on the island were not allowed to step foot on Japanese soil, making the island something of a prison for the traders. And a perfect location for Mitchell to explore another of his pet themes: cultural dislocation.
It is within this historical fact that Mitchell places Jacob de Zoet, a young clerk who has come to Deijima to make a fortune in hopes of impressing the father of the girl he wants to marry back home. Deijima is a rough and dishonest place however, and Jacob is an honest Christian man. (His first conflict presents itself when he smuggles in a family Psalm book, which is strictly forbidden by the Japanese government to prevent Christian visitors from proselytizing to the Shinto Japanese.) Arriving with Jacob is the new chief of Deijima, Unico Vorstenbosch, a man tasked with rooting out the corruption rampant at the post. Jacob is his able lieutenant in the endeavor, which invites all manner of conflict for him with the many others on Deijima who had ties with the previous, corrupt chief.
As if this is not enough for our young protagonist, he also falls in love with a Japanese midwife. A relationship with her is, of course, impossible given the safeguards keeping visitors and locals apart: only Japanese merchants, translators and prostitutes are allowed on Deijima. Yet Jacob tries many ploys to speak to her and to let her know his feelings. The first section of the book ends with a written proposal of marriage and a surprise for Jacob when his work on Deijima’s crooked accounts is completed.
The second section follows this midwife, Orito Aibagawa, sold to a shrine following her father’s death to pay off his debts. This shrine, Mt. Shiranui, is run by a powerful abbot named Lord Enomoto, who seems to have mystical powers. No visitors are allowed in the shrine and it doesn’t take long for the reader to sense something sinister is going on, something requiring the help of a skilled midwife. Taken against her own will from her studies on Deijima (she has been given an exemption to study under esteemed Dr. Marinus because she saved the life of the local magistrate’s child during a stillbirth), Orito tries to find a way out of the shrine. Meanwhile, we learn that Ogawa Uzaemon, the translator who delivered Jacob’s marriage proposal, has his own complex feelings for Orito. When a scroll with the shrine’s secrets comes into his possession, they are so horrible he gives up his comfortable life to break her out.
Cultural isolation plays a large role in this novel. The trading post/artificial island/virtual prison of Deijima serves as a brilliant metaphor for the relationship between the isolated and hermetically sealed state of Japan and the rest of the world at that point in history. With limited traffic back and forth through the gate to the island, cultural infection was largely controlled. But not entirely. There was enough flow of information to start the transformation we now know will eventually happen in Japan. We see in the novel how the Japanese elite begin agitating against the Shogun’s isolationist practices. Deijima was something of a keyhole for the Japanese to look out of to see what they were missing, and what they saw outside made them want to open the door.
Language then becomes powerful as the two cultures interact. The Dutch cannot learn Japanese; they are dependent on translators often placed in their positions more out of patronage than skill. Confusion is an almost normal state of communication. And that confusion can be purposely played by some to achieve their own corrupt ends, as Jacob learns when he catches a translator’s attempt to steal from the Dutch with a mistranslated document.
As usual, Mitchell’s writing is a veritable writer’s workshop. The first two scenes effectively draw the reader into his rich and absorbing world. In the first, we see Orito deliver the magistrate’s baby through the difficult stillbirth that will earn her a place on Deijima. In the second, we are introduced to Jacob as he observes Vorstenbosch dress down the previous corrupt chief. Both are templates for the rest of the book: crisp, clean writing; evocative description; and vivid characterization. Mitchell’s ability to use fine detail to render Japan as both a decrepit, corrupt society and a gorgeous culture is amazing.
In the interest of evenhandedness, there were two things I found not to my liking. First, Mitchell has a habit in some spots of placing strings of one-line descriptive paragraphs. The lines themselves are fantastic description, but their placement breaks the flow of his narrative.
Second, much of the third section, which introduces a slew of new characters we care nothing about, slows the book’s pace. This can be forgiven for reasons of utility: the section is necessary for moving the plot forward so Jacob’s story can resolve. Also, the thrilling second section is a difficult act to follow, and, after the astonishing climax and moving conclusion, most readers will have forgotten any of the book’s faults anyhow.
The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet shows Mitchell to be a one of the top-flight literary novelists in the world. And he’s only forty-one! Thankfully, we’ll have many more novels to come from this young master.
