The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet by David Mitchell

Have you ever read a book that, on finishing it, rendered you speechless? In the sit-still-with-your-mouth-open-for-ten-whole-minutes way? This is the book that did that for me.

I should be upfront about this review; I’m already a fan of David Mitchell, having fallen in love with his books via Black Swan Green, so I had high expectations before I even opened the cover. More than that, I’m a confirmed history buff, so any novel that can be found in the historical fiction section is as appealing to me as catnip is to claw-using moggies.

So, obvious bias out of the way, let me tell you why you should read this book.

Beginning in 1799, it tells the story of a young clerk working for the Dutch East India Company, Jacob de Zoet, who arrives at the Dejima trading post in Nagasaki, Japan to oversee the trading relations between the company and Japanese traders. Although suspicion initally shrouds de Zoet, due to his reputation as an honest man, he becomes part of life in the company and on the island through his ability to translate Dutch into Japanese and vice versa, his friendship with fellow interpreter Ogawa Uzaemon and a cynical Dutch doctor named Marinus, and his knowledge on many different subjects that is repeatedly called on by those around him.

The crux of the story centres around de Zoet’s love for a Japanese midwife, Orito Aibagawa. Though de Zoet is technically engaged to a girl at home, and only joined the Dutch East India Company to make enough money to marry her, he finds himself drawn to Orito and her intelligence, her self-assurance and her kindness. A devout man, whose most prized possession is a psalter given to him by his uncle (and illegal in Japan at the time), de Zoet finds himself caught between his duties to the Company, his conscience, and his love for Orito. As the story progresses, we come to realise that it is this act which causes unforeseen and tragic consequences.

The structure of the book is fairly straightforward; it begins with de Zoet’s story, before separating out into three strands – Orito and her experiences at the House of Sisters, Uzaemon’s attempt to rescue her, and the arrival of an English ship in Dejima captained by John Penhaglion – and then returning once again to de Zoet’s narrative. What elevates this book above many other works of historical fiction is its sense of time and place. In his notes, Mitchell makes the point that the reason people write historical novels is that “there is pleasure to be had in the painstaking recreation of a lost world”; after all, who knows anything about the real events in the novel, such as the Dutch/Japanese trading relations during this period of time, or the attempt by the English to disrupt them? Dejima was Japan’s only window to the outside world, insular and feudal a society as it was, and Mitchell brings the place alive with envious ease. We can almost smell the sea and the markets and the spices in the air.

Details abound throughout the book; not by beating the reader round the head, but by being almost incidental to the story itself. The Company with its wealth of well-drawn supporting characters is wonderfully recreated in all of its corrupt and backstabbing glory; the malicious intent of the Shogun, ruler of Nagasaki, is never explicitly stated, but we can see it all the same; Orito’s determination and courage shine against the terror of the situation that she finds herself in. The strict rules placed by Japanese society, enforced by people like the Shogun, and Dutch society, enforced by de Zoet’s own conscience, are points of contention for the characters, their morals and intentions.

The love story in itself is quite chaste and sweet; while it’s not the focus of the book, it threads itself through each of the narratives with a wistful longing that lingers even after the end of the story has been reached. Even though the scope of the story is broad, bordering on the epic, it is the tale of a red-headed Dutch clerk and a disfigured Japanese midwife, two perfectly ordinary people who find something extraordinary, that captures the imagination.

I could ramble on ad nauseum about the glorious language used, the little details that add colour and life to the story, the characters with whom we find sympathy that we’re not expecting… But I won’t. Just read it.