This is a novel more about forgetting than about memory.
Some situations need to be forgotten, so that we can get over the stress. ThisForgotten Memory
This is a novel more about forgetting than about memory.
Some situations need to be forgotten, so that we can get over the stress. This applies to both war and love, not to mention the experience of mediocre fiction.
Fifth century Britons, Axl and Beatrice, worry that their loss of memory (they call it "the mist" and suspect that it's caused by a she-dragon) has stolen something from them. Instead, it has allowed them to move on from the pain of an infidelty, and rebuild their love, when perhaps if they had dwelled on the rawness of the infidelty, the wound might never have healed.
Fantastic Potential
With its dragon, an Arthurian knight, warriors, monks, wolves, ogres and pixies galore, the novel is the stuff of fantasy as done by a literary novelist. The sentences are complex and well-constructed (if you like commas), but there are none I felt particularly deserving of quotation.
The Name of the Hedgerows
Kazuo Ishiguro doesn't really do justice to the fantastic potential of the genre. All but the sentimental last chapter concerns a journey along hedgerows and streams, and through farmlands, forests, monasteries and mountains. It doesn't compare to Umberto Eco, much less China Mieville (who genuinely relate to the essence of fantasy). There's no real urgency or import in the journey, except that Axl and Beatrice hope to find their missing son, who ran away when he heard his parents arguing after the discovery of the infidelity. This is the major set-up, which isn't definitively resolved at the end of the novel.
Lacklustre Narrative
The journey itself is lacklustre and uninspiring. It's as if Ishiguro pegs various perils and encounters on a washing line and simply leaves them out to dry. It's populated rather than plotted. There's little real drama or tension. Even the dragon, when they find it, seems like it was already fixing to die. Much of the (American post-modern) literary impulse implicitly questions the value of story-telling, yet authorial and reader interest both flag without narrative drive.
The fantasy elements just aren't enough to sustain interest in the novel. Ishiguro's literary impulses don't really add to the fantasy genre, nor does the structure of fantasy add to Ishiguro's literary concerns. I couldn't help but imagine Axl wearing a cardigan at times.
Floppy Hybrid
This is a hybrid that doesn't do justice to its dual heritage. In the end, the novel is, like its subject matter, forgettable, without the pay-off. It's not so much (what James Wood described as) a folly as a flop....more
Publisher: Hey, K, we need another novel and we need it quick.
K: I know, I know.
Publisher: Another “ReDIALOGUE:
Imagine a restaurant, London, mid-2003.
Publisher: Hey, K, we need another novel and we need it quick.
K: I know, I know.
Publisher: Another “Remains of the Day”. Something Hollywood can turn into a hit.
K: I’m working on it.
Publisher: Any ideas?
K: Well, I’ve been reading some Jonathan Swift.
Publisher: Who?
K: You know, “Gulliver’s Travels”.
Publisher: Oh, yeah, Jack Black. It's in pre-production.
K: Well, he had a modest proposal about how to stop the children of the poor being a burden…
Publisher: I’m with you, yep, delinquents, sounds good.
K: …he wanted to stop them being a burden to their parents…
Publisher: Yep, with you.
K: … and the Country.
Publisher: Yep, a Thatcherite angle, I think it’s Maggie’s time again.
K: Anyway, he had this idea that you could kill two birds with one stone…you could end the kids’ misery and the poverty of their parents at the same time…
Publisher: Let me guess, you could eat them, ha ha.
K: He goes into that… stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled…
Publisher: Yuck.
K: He even talks about making them into a fricassee or a ragout.
Publisher: It’s a bit out there, K.
K: I was thinking of updating it a bit.
Publisher: How would you do that?
K: I was thinking I could tell the story from the point of view of a midwife who…
Publisher: Someone who has to care for the kids?
K: Yeah, until they turn 12 months or something...
Publisher: Let me guess, then she hands them over to a child butcher or something?
K: Yeah.
Publisher: Look, I can see where you’re going with this, but it all sounds a bit grotesque.
K: That’s the whole point. It’s an allegory for our times.
Publisher: I just don’t know whether it’s got legs.
K: Legs? You’re kidding me…it’s got every damned limb and organ you can think of.
Publisher: I don’t want to think of it, I can just imagine the reviews. They’ll call it “The Remains of the Meat Tray”.
K: Ha, I hadn’t thought of that, I was going to call it “The Remains of the Creche”.
Publisher: It gets worse.
K: No, honestly, I was thinking of “Never Let Me Grow”.
Publisher: You mean, like…never let me grow up?
K: Yeah.
Publisher: Do you think you could turn the people into pigs or something, you know, like “Animal Farm”?
K: I was sort of hooked on the idea of using people and narrating the story in a really dead pan voice…
Publisher: I don’t know about dead pan, it sounds more frying pan to me.
K: …If it’s dead pan, people won’t be able to tell whether it’s set in the future or the present. They won’t know how close to reality it is.
Publisher: I just don’t know what I think about this eating babies stuff.
K: But it’s like sci-fi, you can do anything in sci-fi.
Publisher: Look, if we let you do this, they won’t be calling it sci-fi, they’ll be calling it sci-fry.
K: If you let me do it, I guarantee we’ll be able to get Helen Mirren to play the midwife.
Publisher: Who?
K: Helen Mirren, you know, the Queen.
Publisher: No, no. Look, if you can tweak it, you know, think about my idea for a second, set it on Animal Farm, make it about cloning pigs, so they can grow body parts for other pigs or something…
K: I know, put some wizard animals in it and call it “Hogparts”?
Publisher: Come on take me seriously, K, just clone it up and tone it down.
K: I’ll think about it.
Publisher: I’ll see if I can get Keira Knightley to voice one of the pigs.
K: She’s hot.
Publisher: You could call it “Never Let Me Go”.
K: What does that mean?
Publisher: It’s a song my mother used to play. Jane Monheit sang it.
K: I could get used to it. Don’t know what I think about the name Monheit though.
Publisher: It does sound a bit German, doesn't it?
K: What would you think if I called her something more English in the book.
Publisher: Like Judy Bridgewater?
K: Who’s Judy Bridgewater?
Publisher: It’s my mother’s maiden name.
K: Sounds good to me.
Publisher: Look, I normally like to respect an artist’s integrity, but hey, you’re the artist, so I guess that makes it OK.
K: Do you think I could get to meet Keira Knightley?
Publisher: I think so… look I’ve been thinking about it, maybe it’s not such a good idea to turn Keira Knightley into a pig.
K: Sometimes you can’t really see the depth of your own characters, until you can imagine who’s going to play them.
Publisher: So, no pigs?
K: No pigs. I don’t mind the cloning bit though.
Original Review: April 16, 2011
CRITIQUE:
Some More Serious Thoughts
I wrote the above dialogue before I even finished the book. I wanted to read the book before seeing the film, which I will probably do in the next week or so during the holidays. When I wrote the dialogue, I probably had about 50 pages to finish, but the dialogue had taken shape in my head, and I didn't want to risk losing it. There might have been a chance that it would be superseded by my final thoughts on the novel itself. I had high expectations that I would finally get to appreciate the novel more when I had finished it and absorbed the denouement. Unfortunately, it left me feeling dissatisfied.
Narrative Style
I didn't find the narrative style appropriate or convincing. It is told in the first person, by way of recollection of three different periods of Kathy's life. The periods are discussed chronologically, although during each period, there are occasional allusions to each other period. There is a lot of internal detail about each period, what was going on in Kathy's head. Dialogue between the characters is infrequent and sparse. The novel is overwhelmingly an interior monologue. Occasionally, there are lapses or flaws in Kathy's memory that she self-consciously draws attention to. Part of me wanted to say to the author, "It's your story, just get it right, you can remember anything you like, because you're making it up anyway." But then I guess we have to differentiate between Ishiguro and Kathy. We have to expect some flaws in the glass, rather than a word and memory perfect narrative. Still I was never really confident who Kathy was talking to, it wasn't just an interior monologue, there were occasional mentions of a "you", a second person to whom she was talking. If you had sat down to tell this story to someone else, I think you could or would have told the story far more succinctly and selectively. The detail and the repetition of environment, atmosphere and mood bulk up the painting, but they don't add to the depth. Each new layer of paint is superimposed on the previous layer, so that while there might be a lot of paint on the canvas, it is physically, rather then metaphorically, deep.
The Geometry of Love
SPOILER ALERT
While Kathy, Ruth and Tommy live in an horrific environment (perhaps a metaphorical equivalent to a concentration camp), the novel deals with the quality of their humanity under these circumstances. The guardians might have been trying to work out (incidentally) whether they had souls, but ultimately what we learn is that the positive aspects of human nature can survive or prevail despite the circumstances. It's interesting that the characters' quest for love initially seemed to be motivated by a belief that it would postpone their donations and prolong their lives. While this belief turns out to be mistaken, Kathy discovers that love is worth seeking in its own right, regardless of any consequences or notions of cause and effect. Ruth promoted the belief in the life prolonging effect of love. In effect, Kathy acquiesced in it and never deliberately interfered in or disrupted the relationship between Ruth and Tommy. However, when she comes to the end of the story, perhaps she realises that she should have been less acquiescent and let herself express her love for Tommy. So ultimately, "Never Let Me Go" is a love story, a triangular one at that. Life is short, you just have to get on with it, you have to take your (true?) love wherever you can find it, even if someone else gets hurt in the process. When we pair up in love, there is always a chance that someone will miss out or get hurt. Three into two won't go. Perhaps, this is actually calculus rather than geometry, but you know what I mean....more