“Cloud Atlas,” the 2004 novel by David Mitchell, is a daring book. And, more than three-quarters of the way through its pages, Mitchell includes a daring passage.
One of his many (or is it few?) characters, Robert Frobisher, is writing a letter in 1931 to his friend and former lover Rufus Sixsmith and describing “a sextet for overlapping soloists” that he is composing and that, the reader knows, will be called the Cloud Atlas Sextet.
It is a work, he writes, for “piano, clarinet, ‘cello, flute, oboe and violin, each in its own language of key, scale and colour. In the 1st set, each solo is interrupted by its successor; in the 2nd, each interruption is recontinued, in order. Revolutionary or gimmicky?”
That final sentence is the daring part.

You see, at this point, the reader can see the parallels between the Cloud Atlas Sextet and Mitchell’s “Cloud Atlas” novel.
Like Frobisher’s musical composition, Mitchell has created a highly and unusually structured work. The novel is, in fact, six novellas, each of a different form and told in a different voice.
There is (1) the sea journal of Adam Ewing, a rather stuffy, naïve 19th century American , (2) Frobisher’s letters to Sixsmith, a fellow Englishman, (3) a 1970s murder novel titled “Half Lives — The First Luisa Rey Mystery, (4) a memoir by an early 21st century vanity book publisher named Timothy Cavendish, (5) the transcript of an interrogation of Sonmi-451, a rebel in some future Korea, and (6) a long yarn told to family members by Zachary in an even more future Hawaii.
The verdict?
Each is about 90 pages long, but only Zachary’s is told in a single go. As with the Sextet, each of the other novellas in Mitchell’s book is interrupted — at a moment of high tension — by the next one so that, by the time Zachary is telling his tale, the reader is already carrying five truncated stories in his or her head.
After Zachary’s story, the other novellas are completed, each in turn — Sonmi, then Cavendish, then Luisa, then Frobisher and finishing finally with Ewing.
So, as Frobisher asks of his sextet, is Mitchell’s novel “revolutionary or gimmicky”?