Tomorrow sees the state-side release of David Mitchell’s fifth novel, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob DeZoet.  It marks the author’s first real journey into the sometimes thorny world of historical fiction.  Apart from a short treatment of the Falklands War in the semi-autobiographical bildungsroman Black Swan Green, Mitchell tends to consider the real world’s history malleable and sometimes sloughs it completely in favor of complex nested realities, as in Cloud Atlas.  A follower of Mitchell’s might consider this new work a strange undertaking, but thankfully, Mitchell has completely forgone the weighty explanatory prose that many historical fictions fall prey to; it often appears that authors that succumb to this temptation really want to convince their audience that they did, in fact, do a lot of research for this book.  No, seriously, you guys.  A lot of research.  Mitchell tastefully avoids this trap, and approaches his historical subject with literary deft and a passion for his characters that is rarely seen.  In short, Mitchell continues his tradition of artful balance of character, theme, and plot momentum.  Concerned fans can breathe a little easier.

The “history” part of the the historical fiction concerns the Dejima port in Japan around the turn of the nineteenth century.  Dejima (literally but roughly translated: “Exit Island”) was the only port where a foreign ship was allowed to dock in Japan for over 200 years while the Japanese refused to have any contact with the outside world following the ban on Christianity in the mid-seventeenth century.  Foreigners were allowed onto the small island (about 0.0035 square miles), and not, as a general rule, onto the “real” Japanese land.  And these foreigners were only allowed onto Dejima if they were employees of the Dutch East India Company.  Dejima was man-made to allow the Japanese to deal in trade with outsiders without letting them into the country.  It was also forbidden for any Japanese person to leave Japan.  Dejima was the only bridge to the rest of the world.  Strange but fascinating times, and the difficulty of a Brit researching this period from the Japanese perspective probably explains the need for the four solid years of research Mitchell devoted to the novel.

The titular protagonist is a young Dutch clerk who, like many of Mitchell’s protagonists, is well-meaning but imperfect and consequently a little unconfident and self-deprecating.  The first act of the story follows DeZoet as he arrives at Dejima and learns to navigate the tender politics of working and living in this small environment where there is no one he can trust completely.  It is through his perspective that we meet the larger cast of characters – the Dutchmen, the various Europeans in the Dutch East India Company’s employ, the servants, the Japanese aristocrats, the doctor, and the doctor’s students.  Mitchell introduces them all nearly simultaneously, but gives each one their due in time.  This style mimics the reality of meeting so many people at once and slowly getting to know each one as circumstances allow.  It’s highly effective at putting the reader squarely in the shoes of someone arriving in a totally foreign place and scrambling to keep up with community that already has its own culture and societal expectations.  After we’ve spent the better part of three months with DeZoet, Mitchell grabs the reader by the shoulders and pulls them back – way back – and broadens the scope of the storytelling and theme masterfully beyond the reader’s expectation.

We then see through so many eyes the fear of the unknown, cultic hubris, the comical but sweet prayers of a Catholic who has never read the bible, the rigid terror of new European firepower – the pistol, accepting what can’t be changed, the value of freedom over another’s life, a tale of a singing skull, and the unexpected and problematic arrival of the British.  Every setting, every character’s every thought, every moment is crafted carefully to show the intense longing we feel in periods of isolation and the ways we try to patch the holes and carry on trying to do right even when we don’t know how or why.  This is why the novel succeeds; it uses the historical setting merely as a backdrop for the real study: the limits to which a human heart can be stretched by loneliness before it tears.  To Mitchell, there may be no better time or place to consider these things than nineteenth century Japan.

While it might be disingenuous to say that his new novel is his best yet, the fact remains that David Mitchell is one of the most talented writers in literature today.  He writes with inimitable perception, grace, and power with neither condescension nor amelioration toward his subject or audience.  His perfect balance of creative prose and practical talent has no contemporary equal.  In last decade since the release of his first novel, he has never disappointed.  In addition to The Thousand Autumns of Jacob DeZoet, if you haven’t had a chance, I recommend rewinding the clock and reading his previous novels: Ghostwritten (1999), number9dream (2001), Cloud Atlas (2004), and Black Swan Green (2006).  For anyone who has read these, as always, keep your eyes open for recurring characters in the new novel.

The book is available in hardcover and digitally June 29th.