As a teacher I’m aware there are a variety of
criteria for properly implanting knowledge in students’ minds. It goes without saying that the more of these
criteria included in the lesson, the greater the chances the knowledge has of
taking root and developing into something greater in the head of the receiver. Presentation only part of the game, examples
need to be consistent with the lesson’s aim.
Writers who attempt moral pieces, face the same situation. Profound subjects cannot be staged in helium tones
if the seriousness of the message is to be fully absorbed and applied. David Mitchell’s 2004 Cloud Atlas, a stunningly written and magnificently presented
work—merits by which it can be appreciated alone—nevertheless falls victim to a
juxtaposition of content and intent.
Cloud
Atlas is not one, but six independent stories stowed one
inside the other, or, as Mitchell himself words it: “In the 1 st set, each solo
is interrupted by its successor: in the 2nd, each interruption is
recontinued, in order.” Decades between
the stories, several threads—names, places, subjects, a birthmark, etc.—wend
their way through each of the narratives to create a pictoral whole. Otherwise, each tile in the mosaic features
different characters from differing time periods. From a notary in the Pacific of the 19th
century to a clone in the late 22nd fast food business, each story has an
individual theme and tone.
