Cloud Atlas Fanfiction

827 Cresthaven Drive

London

VII 3rd 1931

Frobisher,

I am glad to hear that you are doing well. After you were expelled from Caius, I was worried, but it seems that you’ve been living well. Your passion for the arts never stops, though it wasn’t able to stop your mouth from ruining your future in London. I suppose your desire for freedom was too much for the chains of Mackerras to hold you down.

Visiting Vyvyan Ayrs, a name foreign to a musical oaf, was something I never expected. You will laugh at me, but when I asked my father about the name, he was flabbergasted at my interest. Said he was shocked that I ever bothered lifting my head out of my books. “I see you wish to understand culture, Rufus.” My father mocked me, but I did end up receiving a very long lecture on who Vyvyan Ayrs is. Now that I have a bit more respect for him, I must say, I am doubtful of this endeavor, but if all goes well, I will take you up on your invitation. Even I tire of my research sometimes, and Bruges seems like the perfect place to have an extended holiday. If you do get kicked out, remember that there will always be a place for you at 827 Cresthaven Drive, though you will have to put up with long discussions about current advances in science. 

Speaking of advancements, have you heard about the “deuterium?” Harold Urey is rumored to be close to discovering a new isotope of hydrogen, which he has coined “deuterium.” I assume all these terms mean as much to you as Vyvyan Ayrs means to me, but rest assured that there will be big movements in the science world soon. 

I must admit, I envy you, Robert. When I think about my future, all I see is a fog of uncertainty. I admire the resolve you have and the single minded desire to become a great composer, though I do think that there are better ways to do so than getting kicked out of Caius and latching on to an eccentric for hope. My mother has already planned out my entire life; once I finish my research under Pearce, I will complete a postdoc with a teaching job on the side. Eventually, I’ll become a professor, and with the help of my family and their plentiful assets and connections, I’ll get tenure, becoming a son any mother would be proud of. Her expectations are weighty and I don’t know if I can fulfill them. My sister moved to New York two years ago, and is apparently having the time of her life. She advises me to join her, to escape from my overbearing mother, and I’ve heard that the science scene in America is thriving.

I hope that by the time this finds you, you are still well at Zedelghem. Brewer’s men are on the prowl, but I think Bruges is probably far enough from the rest of the world to keep you safe. By the way, your parents wanted me to pass along a letter from them. Your father says he is concerned about your wellbeing, while your mother is apparently frantic, though they don’t seem to plan on rescinding your disownment anytime soon.

As you said, people are complicated.

Sincerely,

R.S