Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
Jan. 20th, 2007 11:04 amThe Blurb On The Back:
In one of the most acclaimed and original novels of recent years, Kazuo Ishiguro imagines the lives of a group of students growing up in a darkly skewed version of contemporary England. Narrated by Kathy, now thirty-one, Never Let Me Go hauntingly dramatises her attempts to come to terms with her childhood at the seemingly idyllic Hailsham School, and with the fate that has always awaited her and her closest friends in the wider world. A story of love, friendship and memory, Never Let Me Go is charged throughout with a sense of the fragility of life.
It's testament to the writing of this book that you don't think about the plot holes until long after you finish it and even then, it doesn't spoil the enjoyment.
Ishiguro uses very simple language and lets Kathy slowly unveil the story and what exactly has happened to her and her two friends Tommy and Ruth. In many ways, he catches the petty bitchiness and betrayals that characterises childhood and adolescence and the fact that Kathy is looking back on her younger years is interesting because whilst some of her memories are coloured by what happened subsequently, in other ways she remains oblivious to what was actually going on.
The fundamental premise of the story is that Kathy and her Hailsham classmates are clones who have been engineered to be organ donators in later life. There are hints all the way through, but it doesn't become clear until the latter third when you find out who Kathy is caring for. I found these bits to be very moving, particularly because of the matter-of-fact way in which Kathy seems to accept things. Ishiguro's language is chilling - particularly the use of the word "complete" instead of "die" and he leaves you in no doubt that Kathy and her like are simply used until their bodies literally cannot cope with the demands being made on them.
Ishiguro uses a love triangle set up between the pragmatic Kathy, her fantasist (and somewhat bitchy) best friend Ruth and Ruth's boyfriend, Tommy. Thinking back, I believe that the characters are very much broad brush strokes with ocassional flashes of depth. For example, Ruth is essentially a fantasist, creating fictions that people buy into so that she can be the centre of attention and running the cliques but as she gets older you see how much she needs to believe in the lies that she weaves. This is particularly seen in the part where the three of them accompany two other students on a trip to Norfolk, where one of the clones has seen a person they believe Ruth was cloned from. The fact that Ruth's biggest dream is to work in an office with other people and it's the fact that she knows she will never be allowed to and therefore never tries is very moving and serves to humanise her.
Tommy by contrast is a sweet boy, who starts the book being subjected to bullying by the other Hailsham students, who delight in seeing his anger tantrums. It's Kathy and one of the Miss Hailsham tutors, Miss Lucy, who help him to get past it and you discover that Hailsham puts a premium on creativity, with the school holding exhibitions of the childrens' best artwork, poetry etc for the mysterious Madame to select and take away the best. The emphasis on artwork and creativity really holds the book together and helps drive the plot to its conclusion when Kathy and Tommy work together to find Madame and see if there's any way of getting a deferral on their donations.
Like I said, there are plot holes. For example, Ishiguro doesn't explain how come the clones just go along with and accept their fate. There's repeated mention of Hailsham being special (which comes clear at the end), with a strong hint that other institutions treat donors like animals. Yet apart from one scene where Ruth rails against what's happening to her and encourages Kathy to make the most of what she's got and seek a deferrment, the clones seem to welcome the chance to be useful, even though they're given freedoms that would allow them to escape. However, the power of the narration means you can accept that these are not things that will be explained.
There is also an annoying habit of the narrator that does fit in with their character, but really irritated me, whereby Kathy will start retelling something that happened to her, Tommy and Ruth and then she'll say something like "I didn't know it then, but it came about because of/led to x happening" before scene breaking to that event. I could forgive it the first couple of times, but it became old very quickly and actually served to spoil the tension of some things by sign posting too clearly what was happening.
The Verdict:
Moving and thought provoking, you can see why this book was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize in 2005. This is an excellent example of the literary face of science fiction (which seems to be more acceptable to 'The Establishment') and is definitely worth a read.
In one of the most acclaimed and original novels of recent years, Kazuo Ishiguro imagines the lives of a group of students growing up in a darkly skewed version of contemporary England. Narrated by Kathy, now thirty-one, Never Let Me Go hauntingly dramatises her attempts to come to terms with her childhood at the seemingly idyllic Hailsham School, and with the fate that has always awaited her and her closest friends in the wider world. A story of love, friendship and memory, Never Let Me Go is charged throughout with a sense of the fragility of life.
It's testament to the writing of this book that you don't think about the plot holes until long after you finish it and even then, it doesn't spoil the enjoyment.
Ishiguro uses very simple language and lets Kathy slowly unveil the story and what exactly has happened to her and her two friends Tommy and Ruth. In many ways, he catches the petty bitchiness and betrayals that characterises childhood and adolescence and the fact that Kathy is looking back on her younger years is interesting because whilst some of her memories are coloured by what happened subsequently, in other ways she remains oblivious to what was actually going on.
The fundamental premise of the story is that Kathy and her Hailsham classmates are clones who have been engineered to be organ donators in later life. There are hints all the way through, but it doesn't become clear until the latter third when you find out who Kathy is caring for. I found these bits to be very moving, particularly because of the matter-of-fact way in which Kathy seems to accept things. Ishiguro's language is chilling - particularly the use of the word "complete" instead of "die" and he leaves you in no doubt that Kathy and her like are simply used until their bodies literally cannot cope with the demands being made on them.
Ishiguro uses a love triangle set up between the pragmatic Kathy, her fantasist (and somewhat bitchy) best friend Ruth and Ruth's boyfriend, Tommy. Thinking back, I believe that the characters are very much broad brush strokes with ocassional flashes of depth. For example, Ruth is essentially a fantasist, creating fictions that people buy into so that she can be the centre of attention and running the cliques but as she gets older you see how much she needs to believe in the lies that she weaves. This is particularly seen in the part where the three of them accompany two other students on a trip to Norfolk, where one of the clones has seen a person they believe Ruth was cloned from. The fact that Ruth's biggest dream is to work in an office with other people and it's the fact that she knows she will never be allowed to and therefore never tries is very moving and serves to humanise her.
Tommy by contrast is a sweet boy, who starts the book being subjected to bullying by the other Hailsham students, who delight in seeing his anger tantrums. It's Kathy and one of the Miss Hailsham tutors, Miss Lucy, who help him to get past it and you discover that Hailsham puts a premium on creativity, with the school holding exhibitions of the childrens' best artwork, poetry etc for the mysterious Madame to select and take away the best. The emphasis on artwork and creativity really holds the book together and helps drive the plot to its conclusion when Kathy and Tommy work together to find Madame and see if there's any way of getting a deferral on their donations.
Like I said, there are plot holes. For example, Ishiguro doesn't explain how come the clones just go along with and accept their fate. There's repeated mention of Hailsham being special (which comes clear at the end), with a strong hint that other institutions treat donors like animals. Yet apart from one scene where Ruth rails against what's happening to her and encourages Kathy to make the most of what she's got and seek a deferrment, the clones seem to welcome the chance to be useful, even though they're given freedoms that would allow them to escape. However, the power of the narration means you can accept that these are not things that will be explained.
There is also an annoying habit of the narrator that does fit in with their character, but really irritated me, whereby Kathy will start retelling something that happened to her, Tommy and Ruth and then she'll say something like "I didn't know it then, but it came about because of/led to x happening" before scene breaking to that event. I could forgive it the first couple of times, but it became old very quickly and actually served to spoil the tension of some things by sign posting too clearly what was happening.
The Verdict:
Moving and thought provoking, you can see why this book was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize in 2005. This is an excellent example of the literary face of science fiction (which seems to be more acceptable to 'The Establishment') and is definitely worth a read.