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Utopia Avenue by David Mitchell
4 disparate musicians are brought together by a manager to become the Next Big Thing in the Swinging Sixties.
And it manages to be both boring and repetitive, to have a "working class man" who is a cringy cliche, and the reader can of course confirm his class by the fact he always says 'yer' not you. The drummer has no personality, but maybe that's a joke. The character called Elf, yes really, is probably the most detailed but even she is just girl next door material. Gifted guitarist but likely schizophrenic Jasper is a different issue and I'll come back to it.
David Bowie and Janis Joplin among others turn up as "themselves", which just feels wrong. The epilogue is quite good, but the final third may as well be in neon lights it's so obvious where its going.
Like, if this was a debut I'd get it or even the work of a more mainstream male author, such as David Nicholls, I'd be like Ok, average contemporary, fair enough. But this is the man who wrote Bone Clocks, Cloud Atlas and Slade House - he's more than proven he can do well written, original, high concept, so what's this ten a penny music scene trope fest?
The character Jasper, is a descendant of Jacob de Zoet (a weird and plotless book with a disturbing sequence about nuns) - when having what he thinks is a mental health episode, Dr Marinus, a featured character across several of Mitchell's novels comes to his aid.
It struck me that if Utopia Avenue was your first David Mitchell, it's really a meaningless and confusing interlude for the reader. But even fully versed in that universe it doesn't really add anything special or of note, and doesn't really need to be there.
Very very disappointing, both taken on its own merit, and against his general body of work.
IIRC at least 2 other 50 Bookers have read this, do @ me