Under different circumstances, I’d say I finally got ‘round to reading this book published last summer. But, that would be an incorrect use of ‘finally’. After all, I only read Slade House earlier this year, and that was published—and has sat pretty on my bookshelf—since 2015. But, usually, I devour Mitchell’s books as soon as they are released. I mean, how can one not?
Reading Mitchell is like meeting an old friend in a hidden old-forgotten bar (or the Eagles-esque sad café) talking about old friends you used to know and where they are now. It’s familiar, it’s comfortable, it’s peaceful. People you got to know in old novels make an appearance, descendants of people you previously read about show up, as do fictional literary works that only exist in Mitchell’s metaverse.
And, in the case of Utopia Avenue, so do some of my favourite artists from the 1960s and 70s, be it David Bowie or Syd Barrett. Heck, even John Lennon is spotted at a party.
Wait, let’s backtrack a bit.
Set in the 1960s music scene, during the Vietnam war, a little-known band called Utopia Avenue is trying to break into the music scene. Four very talented, very different personalities with very different backgrounds come together, handpicked by their quintessentially non-sleazy manager. There’s Dean Moss, the vocalist who writes songs and plays the bass guitar; Jasper De Zoet (if you’re familiar with Mitchell’s work, that family name will ring a bell), a (psychedelic) guitar genius, with autwho also writes his own songs; Elf Holloway, a folksy songwriter who plays the guitar and keyboard and had some success in the folk music scene; and finally Peter “Griff” Griffin, the drummer. Moss and Griff are both working class, De Zoet has family money and comes from Dutch aristocracy, and Hollway is middle-class from London.
Together, they form Utopia Avenue, a band that pulls from all the genres its members splash in, and don’t box themselves into a single genre. A band that doesn’t thrive on conflict or competition between the songwriters, but sometimes just let the roll-of-a-dice decide what the next single will be. A four-member band with one woman who gets exasperated with how she is often-ignored, but also has tremendous empathy for every single one of her bandmates who through the course of the novel admire and respect both: her talent and personality.
Through all of this, the individual members of the band go through their own struggles, battling their own demons. The story is written mostly chronologically with plenty of flashbacks—flashbacks that often drive the creative process of composing new song and verse—where each chapter focuses on one of the songwriters and their headspace, be it with respect to their career trajectory or their past or their life.
There are chapters that will make you cry, painfully beautifully written, capturing the horrors of human life and death. There are chapters that will make you wonder if one of the bandmembers is having psychotic episodes or if Knock-Knock actually does reside in his head and the Mongolian monk successfully cauterised Knock-Knock. If this sounds familiar, it’s because it builds upon characters and concepts introduced in Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet and The Bone Clocks.
Reading this 550+ page book in just under a week, I was rooting for the success of the band, and eagerly looking forward to reading about their next set of escapades. The characters are flawed, but mostly decent. Their love for music and admiration for each other (whilst occasionally being frustrated with each other) drives the story, and makes them all seem very real and very human. And, you don’t know which 60s rockstar is going to make a cameo appearance next.
But, also, since it’s been about seven years since I read The Bone Clocks and maybe 10 years since I read Thousand Autumns, I really just want to dive back into the Mitchell metaverse, as we wait for his next book (which, sadly, might be a while, as he’s working on the Matrix 4 movie).