David Mitchell has been universally confirmed now as one of the world’s best young experimental novelists. He has been named by Granta of one of the UK’s best young writers, and two of his first three books were shortlisted for the prestigious Booker prize, one of which, Cloud Atlas, was cruelly robbed in one of the worst upsets in Booker history (according to me). So what do you do when you have written three critically acclaimed masterpieces of experimental literature? Why you write a semi-autobiographical coming of age novel of course. I suppose for such an experimental author writing your first novel fourth is about as experimental as you can get. [return]So I had some mild trepidation going into this book even though Cloud Atlas is one of my favourite books. But Mitchell is so damn good that he manages with exquisite grace, even in this overused genre, to craft an excellent novel. It tells the story of a young boy growing up in the UK during the Falklands War and Margaret Thatcher, watching his parents struggle at home, fighting for some recognition and popularity at school, and battling his stutter in every sentence. The book is told in a series of chapters which exist almost like short stories, much like his other novels, but also maintains a coherent chronological flow. It is a simple story of a young boy but it is extremely well written and engaging. This book only goes further to show that David Mitchell is not only one of the best young writers out there, but one the best writers period. Though not as inventive and amazing as his earlier work this book succeeds masterfully in its genre. It is eminently readable and interesting. He manages to create a real and specific image of his world that easily draws us in. This only confirmed my thoughts on Mitchell, and I will most certainly be there on the first day that his future books are published.