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Never Let Me Go Kindle Edition
As children, Kathy, Ruth, and Tommy were students at Hailsham, an exclusive boarding school secluded in the English countryside. It was a place of mercurial cliques and mysterious rules where teachers were constantly reminding their charges of how special they were.
Now, years later, Kathy is a young woman. Ruth and Tommy have reentered her life. And for the first time she is beginning to look back at their shared past and understand just what it is that makes them special—and how that gift will shape the rest of their time together.
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherVintage
- Publication dateApril 5, 2005
- File size2359 KB
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Editorial Reviews
Review
"A page turner and a heartbreaker, a tour de force of knotted tension and buried anguish.” —Time
“A Gothic tour de force.... A tight, deftly controlled story.... Just as accomplished [as The Remains of the Day] and, in a very different way, just as melancholy and alarming.” —The New York Times
"Elegaic, deceptively lovely.... As always, Ishiguro pulls you under." —Newsweek
“Superbly unsettling, impeccably controlled.... The book’s irresistible power comes from Ishiguro’s matchless ability to expose its dark heart in careful increments.” —Entertainment Weekly
Review
From the Back Cover
As a child, Kathy-now thirty-one years old-lived at Hailsham, a private school in the scenic English countryside where the children were sheltered from the outside world, brought up to believe that they were special and that their well-being was crucial not only for themselves but for the society they would eventually enter. Kathy had long ago put this idyllic past behind her, but when two of her Hailsham friends come back into her life, she stops resisting the pull of memory.
And so, as her friendship with Ruth is rekindled, and as the feelings that long ago fueled her adolescent crush on Tommy begin to deepen into love, Kathy recalls their years at Hailsham. She describes happy scenes of boys and girls growing up together, unperturbed-even comforted-by their isolation. But she describes other scenes as well: of discord and misunderstanding that hint at a dark secret behind Hailsham's nurturing facade. With the dawning clarity of hindsight, the three friends are compelled to face the truth about their childhood-and about their lives now.
A tale of deceptive simplicity, "Never Let Me Go slowly reveals an extraordinary emotional depth and resonance-and" takes its place among Kazuo Ishiguro's finest work. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
From the Inside Flap
Hailsham seems like a pleasant English boarding school, far from the influences of the city. Its students are well tended and supported, trained in art and literature, and become just the sort of people the world wants them to be. But, curiously, they are taught nothing of the outside world and are allowed little contact with it.
Within the grounds of Hailsham, Kathy grows from schoolgirl to young woman, but it's only when she and her friends Ruth and Tommy leave the safe grounds of the school (as they always knew they would) that they realize the full truth of what Hailsham is.
Never Let Me Go breaks through the boundaries of the literary novel. It is a gripping mystery, a beautiful love story, and also a scathing critique of human arrogance and a moral examination of how we treat the vulnerable and different in our society. In exploring the themes of memory and the impact of the past, Ishiguro takes on the idea of a possible future to create his most moving and powerful book to date.
"From the Hardcover edition.
--This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.From Bookmarks Magazine
The title, taken from a folk song Kathy imagines to be about an infertile womans miracle baby, suggests the novels troubling themes: how we define human, accept our station in life, forge a better future for some of us, and interpret memories. Answers surface slowly in the alternative reality Ishiguro pieces together from Kathys distorted recollections. His approach is deceptively simple; each tightly controlled piece of information contributes to a portrait of an ethically questionable society. As Ishiguro explained to Londons Daily Telegraph, the novel "offers a version of Britain that might have existed by the late 20th century if just one or two things had gone differently on the scientific front."
While a few critics questioned the characters acceptance of conditions they might have challenged, others assumed the system Ishiguro introduced precluded even pondering escape. In fact, a few found this world more interesting than the characters themselves. If some thought the scientific/technological premise polemical, others considered it highly provocative. In this age of major scientific debate over the future of humankind, Never Let Me Go will captivate you.
Copyright © 2004 Phillips & Nelson Media, Inc.
--This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.From AudioFile
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Anyway, I’m not making any big claims for myself. I know carers, working now, who are just as good and don’t get half the credit. If you’re one of them, I can understand how you might get resentful—about my bedsit, my car, above all, the way I get to pick and choose who I look after. And I’m a Hailsham student—which is enough by itself sometimes to get people’s backs up. Kathy H., they say, she gets to pick and choose, and she always chooses her own kind: people from Hailsham, or one of the other privileged estates. No wonder she has a great record. I’ve heard it said enough, so I’m sure you’ve heard it plenty more, and maybe there’s something in it. But I’m not the first to be allowed to pick and choose, and I doubt if I’ll be the last. And anyway, I’ve done my share of looking after donors brought up in every kind of place. By the time I finish, remember, I’ll have done twelve years of this, and it’s only for the last six they’ve let me choose.
And why shouldn’t they? Carers aren’t machines. You try and do your best for every donor, but in the end, it wears you down. You don’t have unlimited patience and energy. So when you get a chance to choose, of course, you choose your own kind. That’s natural. There’s no way I could have gone on for as long as I have if I’d stopped feeling for my donors every step of the way. And anyway, if I’d never started choosing, how would I ever have got close again to Ruth and Tommy after all those years?
But these days, of course, there are fewer and fewer donors left who I remember, and so in practice, I haven’t been choosing that much. As I say, the work gets a lot harder when you don’t have that deeper link with the donor, and though I’ll miss being a carer, it feels just about right to be finishing at last come the end of the year.
Ruth, incidentally, was only the third or fourth donor I got to choose. She already had a carer assigned to her at the time, and I remember it taking a bit of nerve on my part. But in the end I managed it, and the instant I saw her again, at that recovery centre in Dover, all our differences—while they didn’t exactly vanish—seemed not nearly as important as all the other things: like the fact that we’d grown up together at Hailsham, the fact that we knew and remembered things no one else did. It’s ever since then, I suppose, I started seeking out for my donors people from the past, and whenever I could, people from Hailsham.
There have been times over the years when I’ve tried to leave Hailsham behind, when I’ve told myself I shouldn’t look back so much. But then there came a point when I just stopped resisting. It had to do with this particular donor I had once, in my third year as a carer; it was his reaction when I mentioned I was from Hailsham. He’d just come through his third donation, it hadn’t gone well, and he must have known he wasn’t going to make it. He could hardly breathe, but he looked towards me and said: “Hailsham. I bet that was a beautiful place.” Then the next morning, when I was making conversation to keep his mind off it all, and I asked where he’d grown up, he mentioned some place in Dorset and his face beneath the blotches went into a completely new kind of grimace. And I realised then how desperately he didn’t want reminded. Instead, he wanted to hear about Hailsham.
So over the next five or six days, I told him whatever he wanted to know, and he’d lie there, all hooked up, a gentle smile breaking through. He’d ask me about the big things and the little things. About our guardians, about how we each had our own collection chests under our beds, the football, the rounders, the little path that took you all round the outside of the main house, round all its nooks and crannies, the duck pond, the food, the view from the Art Room over the fields on a foggy morning. Sometimes he’d make me say things over and over; things I’d told him only the day before, he’d ask about like I’d never told him. “Did you have a sports pavilion?” “Which guardian was your special favourite?” At first I thought this was just the drugs, but then I realised his mind was clear enough. What he wanted was not just to hear about Hailsham, but to remember Hailsham, just like it had been his own childhood. He knew he was close to completing and so that’s what he was doing: getting me to describe things to him, so they’d really sink in, so that maybe during those sleepless nights, with the drugs and the pain and the exhaustion, the line would blur between what were my memories and what were his. That was when I first understood, really understood, just how lucky we’d been—Tommy, Ruth, me, all the rest of us.
.
Driving around the country now, I still see things that will remind me of Hailsham. I might pass the corner of a misty field, or see part of a large house in the distance as I come down the side of a valley, even a particular arrangement of poplar trees up on a hillside, and I’ll think: “Maybe that’s it! I’ve found it! This actually is Hailsham!” Then I see it’s impossible and I go on driving, my thoughts drifting on elsewhere. In particular, there are those pavilions. I spot them all over the country, standing on the far side of playing fields, little white prefab buildings with a row of windows unnaturally high up, tucked almost under the eaves. I think they built a whole lot like that in the fifties and sixties, which is probably when ours was put up. If I drive past one I keep looking over to it for as long as possible, and one day I’ll crash the car like that, but I keep doing it. Not long ago I was driving through an empty stretch of Worcestershire and saw one beside a cricket ground so like ours at Hailsham I actually turned the car and went back for a second look.
We loved our sports pavilion, maybe because it reminded us of those sweet little cottages people always had in picture books when we were young. I can remember us back in the Juniors, pleading with guardians to hold the next lesson in the pavilion instead of the usual room. Then by the time we were in Senior 2—when we were twelve, going on thirteen—the pavilion had become the place to hide out with your best friends when you wanted to get away from the rest of Hailsham.
The pavilion was big enough to take two separate groups without them bothering each other—in the summer, a third group could hang about out on the veranda. But ideally you and your friends wanted the place just to yourselves, so there was often jockeying and arguing. The guardians were always telling us to be civilised about it, but in practice, you needed to have some strong personalities in your group to stand a chance of getting the pavilion during a break or free period. I wasn’t exactly the wilting type myself, but I suppose it was really because of Ruth we got in there as often as we did.
Usually we just spread ourselves around the chairs and benches—there’d be five of us, six if Jenny B. came along—and had a good gossip. There was a kind of conversation that could only happen when you were hidden away in the pavilion; we might discuss something that was worrying us, or we might end up screaming with laughter, or in a furious row. Mostly, it was a way to unwind for a while with your closest friends.
On the particular afternoon I’m now thinking of, we were standing up on stools and benches, crowding around the high windows. That gave us a clear view of the North Playing Field where about a dozen boys from our year and Senior 3 had gathered to play football. There was bright sunshine, but it must have been raining earlier that day because I can remember how the sun was glinting on the muddy surface of the grass.
Someone said we shouldn’t be so obvious about watching, but we hardly moved back at all. Then Ruth said: “He doesn’t suspect a thing. Look at him. He really doesn’t suspect a thing.”
When she said this, I looked at her and searched for signs of disapproval about what the boys were going to do to Tommy. But the next second Ruth gave a little laugh and said: “The idiot!”
And I realised that for Ruth and the others, whatever the boys chose to do was pretty remote from us; whether we approved or not didn’t come into it. We were gathered around the windows at that moment not because we relished the prospect of seeing Tommy get humiliated yet again, but just becaus... --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
From School Library Journal
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
From The Washington Post
Never Let Me Go is set in an undisclosed time -- not in the future, though the novel pays more than a slight bow to science fiction, perhaps between the 1950s and the 1970s -- at a place in the British countryside called Hailsham. It is a school, but a school unlike any other. It was intended to be "a shining beacon, an example of how we might move to a more humane and better way of doing things." The teachers are called "guardians" and the students, though that is what they are called, are neither ordinary students nor ordinary children. They come to Hailsham at a very early age and stay there until, as older teenagers, they are permitted to live in "the Cottages" or "the White Mansion" or "Poplar Farm," halfway houses from which they make tentative steps into the real world.
The narrator of the novel is Kathy, or Kath, and the two other principal characters are her close friends and occasional rivals, Ruth and Tommy. She is "thirty-one years old, and . . . a carer now for over eleven years." What is a carer? One of the novel's mysteries, not really to be solved until two-thirds of the way through; suffice it to say that it's a difficult, emotionally and physically wearing job. Ruth and Tommy, approximately her own age, are "donors," but that mystery, too, must be left to Ishiguro to solve.
In any event, for most of the novel Ishiguro is primarily concerned with the three as children and with the odd world they inhabit at Hailsham. The school, or institution, or whatever one cares to call it, is located on a large parcel of beautiful land, isolated from the outer world. Its students are made to understand that "we were all very special," that "we were different from our guardians, and also from the normal people outside." Their futures are hinted at but not faced head-on: "We hated the way our guardians, usually so on top of everything, became so awkward whenever we came near this territory. It unnerved us to see them change like that." They have a "special chance," but they have only the vaguest idea what that might be.
They are so caught up in the rituals and routines of Hailsham, though, that they have little time for speculation about the distant time of adulthood. They excitedly await "Exchanges," for example: "Four times a year -- spring, summer, autumn, winter -- we had a kind of big exhibition-cum-sale of all the things we'd been creating in the three months since the last Exchange. Paintings, drawings, pottery; all sorts of 'sculptures' made from whatever was the craze of the day -- bashed-up cans, maybe, or bottle tops stuck onto cardboard." Each child is given "Exchange Tokens" with which he or she can "buy work done by students in your own year," from which they form collections that become precious mementos of their time at Hailsham.
The very best products of their creative labors go to "the Gallery." None of them has ever seen it or even knows where it is, but the pieces for it are regularly chosen by a woman whose name they do not know -- "we called her 'Madame' because she was French or Belgian -- there was a dispute as to which -- and that was what the guardians always called her" -- and having one's work selected is regarded as a great honor. They also know that Miss Emily, the head of Hailsham, told one student "that things like pictures, poetry, all that kind of stuff, she said they revealed what you were like inside. She said they revealed your soul."
Besides the Exchanges, the children look forward to the Sales, which "were important to us because that was how we got hold of things from outside." Every month "a big white van" brings the flotsam and jetsam of the outside world:
"Looking back now, it's funny to think we got so worked up, because usually the Sales were a big disappointment. There'd be nothing remotely special and we'd spend our tokens just renewing stuff that was wearing out or broken with more of the same. But the point was, I suppose, we'd all of us in the past found something special at a Sale, something that had become special: a jacket, a watch, a pair of craft scissors never used but kept proudly next to a bed. We'd all found something like that at one time, and so however much we tried to pretend otherwise, we couldn't ever shake off the old feelings of hope and excitement."
Too, the Sales are a way of connecting to the world outside: "at that stage in our lives, any place beyond Hailsham was like a fantasy land; we had only the haziest notions of the world outside and about what was and wasn't possible there." Hailsham is a closed circle beyond which they are not permitted to venture, with the result that the larger world becomes the subject of apprehension as well as curiosity: The children are "fearful of the world around us, and -- no matter how much we despised ourselves for it -- unable quite to let each other go."
That theme, which recurs throughout the book, is summarized for Kathy by a long-playing record she owned for a while -- eventually, and mysteriously, it vanished -- called "Songs After Dark," by a singer named Judy Bridgewater (fictitious, as best I can determine), one track of which is a song titled "Never Let Me Go." The students have been told "it was completely impossible for any of us to have babies," but even as a very young child Kathy dreams of having one:
"What was so special about this song? Well, the thing was, I didn't used to listen properly to the words; I just waited for that bit that went: 'Baby, baby, never let me go. . . .' And what I'd imagined was a woman who'd been told she couldn't have babies, who'd really, really wanted them all her life. Then there's a sort of miracle and she has a baby, and she holds this baby very close to her and walks around singing: 'Baby, never let me go. . .' partly because she's so happy, but also because she's so afraid something will happen, that the baby will get ill or be taken away from her. Even at the time, I realized this couldn't be right, that this interpretation didn't fit with the rest of the lyrics. But that wasn't an issue with me. The song was about what I said, and I used to listen to it again and again, on my own, whenever I got the chance."
One time Kathy is alone in her room, playing the song, "swaying about slowly in time to the song, holding an imaginary baby to my breast." Then "something made me realize I wasn't alone, and I opened my eyes to find myself staring at Madame framed in the doorway. . . . She was out in the corridor, standing very still, her head angled to one side to give her a view of what I was doing inside. And the odd thing was she was crying. It might even have been one of her sobs that had come through the song to jerk me out of my dream." When she tells Tommy about this, he says: "Maybe Madame can read minds. She's strange. Maybe she can see right inside you."
What Madame thinks she sees will not be revealed for many pages, but it gets right to the essence of this quite wonderful novel, the best Ishiguro has written since the sublime The Remains of the Day. It is almost literally a novel about humanity: what constitutes it, what it means, how it can be honored or denied. These little children, and the adults they eventually become, are brought up to serve humanity in the most astonishing and selfless ways, and the humanity they achieve in so doing makes us realize that in a new world the word must be redefined. Ishiguro pulls the reader along to that understanding at a steady, insistent pace. If the guardians at Hailsham "timed very carefully and deliberately everything they told us, so that we were always just too young to understand properly the latest piece of information," by the same token Ishiguro carefully and deliberately unfolds Hailsham's secrets one by one, piece by piece, as if he were slowly peeling an artichoke.
Copyright 2005, The Washington Post Co. All Rights Reserved.
--This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.From Booklist
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
Amazon.com Review
Offsetting the bizarreness of these revelations is the placid, measured voice of the narrator, Kathy H., a 31-year-old Hailsham alumna who, at the close of the 1990s, is consciously ending one phase of her life and beginning another. She is in a reflective mood, and recounts not only her childhood memories, but her quest in adulthood to find out more about Hailsham and the idealistic women who ran it. Although often poignant, Kathy's matter-of-fact narration blunts the sharper emotional effects you might expect in a novel that deals with illness, self-sacrifice, and the severe restriction of personal freedoms. As in Ishiguro's best-known work, The Remains of the Day, only after closing the book do you absorb the magnitude of what his characters endure. --Regina Marler
--This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.Review
"A page turner and a heartbreaker, a tour de force of knotted tension and buried anguish.” —Time
“A Gothic tour de force. . . . A tight, deftly controlled story . . . . Just as accomplished [as The Remains of the Day] and, in a very different way, just as melancholy and alarming.” —The New York Times
"Elegaic, deceptively lovely. . . . As always, Ishiguro pulls you under." —Newsweek
“Superbly unsettling, impeccably controlled . . . . The book’s irresistible power comes from Ishiguro’s matchless ability to expose its dark heart in careful increments.” —Entertainment Weekly
From the Trade Paperback edition. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
Product details
- ASIN : B000FCK2TW
- Publisher : Vintage (April 5, 2005)
- Publication date : April 5, 2005
- Language : English
- File size : 2359 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Enabled
- Word Wise : Enabled
- Sticky notes : On Kindle Scribe
- Print length : 272 pages
- Page numbers source ISBN : 0676977111
- Best Sellers Rank: #5,621 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- #89 in Coming of Age Fiction (Kindle Store)
- #137 in Coming of Age Fiction (Books)
- #193 in Literary Fiction (Kindle Store)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
![Kazuo Ishiguro](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/01Kv-W2ysOL._SY600_.png)
KAZUO ISHIGURO was born in Nagasaki, Japan, in 1954 and moved to Britain at the age of five. His eight previous works of fiction have earned him many honors around the world, including the Nobel Prize in Literature and the Booker Prize. His work has been translated into over fifty languages, and The Remains of the Day and Never Let Me Go, both made into acclaimed films, have each sold more than 2 million copies. He was given a knighthood in 2018 for Services to Literature. He also holds the decorations of Chevalier de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres from France and the Order of the Rising Sun, Gold and Silver Star from Japan.
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Customers find the narrative depth thought-provoking and original. They also say the plot is compelling, heartbreaking, and tender. Opinions are mixed on the writing quality, characters, and pacing. Some find the writing wonderful and well-developed, while others find it slightly amateurish and introspective.
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Customers find the narrative depth of the book thought-provoking, compassionate, and intriguing. They also say the descriptions of past behavior are revealing. Readers also mention that the book is completely unique and explores ethical dilemmas.
"...It's a wonderful example of modern literature and completely unique in the fact that we read the most unspeakable horror and swallow it up, wide-..." Read more
"...that happened next…” And the overall premise is also compelling and interesting...." Read more
"...That alone is highly disturbing and original...." Read more
"...`cloning' concept and more or less an astute and extremely effecting portrait of adolescence and young adulthood...." Read more
Customers are mixed about the plot. Some find the story haunting, heartbreaking, and thought-provoking. They also say the initial concept is stunning and the direction is stunning. However, some find the plot simple, hackneyed, and anticlimactic. They mention the characters are not particularly likeable and the passive fatalism is dull.
"...“Let me tell you why that happened next…” And the overall premise is also compelling and interesting...." Read more
"...And, it did and didn't. The climax was a bit anticlimactic and the characters brought in to meet with the two heroes seemed flat (while empathetic)..." Read more
"...It really is a brilliant work if you accept the argument that it is a dystopian story that avoids going into any details of the dystopia...." Read more
"...film `The Island' and in my review I mentioned that the initial concept was stunning and that the direction that concept could have taken was really..." Read more
Customers have mixed opinions about the writing quality of the book. Some find it wonderful on many levels, elaborate yet with deceptive simplicity. They say it creates a subtle, almost suspenseful undertone, and the surface is perfectly developed. However, others feel the writing to feel slightly amateurish, with an irritating, introspective narrator. They also mention that there are no miracles or deus ex machina, and Kathy is almost entirely ineffectual.
"Ishigiro's Never Let Me Go is beautifully written and the character development is excellent...." Read more
"...The author’s writing style was especially beautiful and captivating to me...." Read more
"...I initially found the writing to feel slightly amateurish and really felt that I was going to begin to dislike the novel, but as the pages turned I..." Read more
"...Although the book is marvelously written, and Ishiguro is surely a Virtuoso when it comes to writing (I've never read his other works, though), the..." Read more
Customers are mixed about the pacing. Some mention they love the overall flow of the book and the characters. They also appreciate the uncomplicated rhythms and patience from the reader. Others however, say the tone is muted and the exposition appears to drag. They feel the book is well written but it feels like it went nowhere.
"...sense of normalcy that is something completely unexpected and ultimately more moving...." Read more
"This book moves slowly, slowly, and we wait for moments of revelation that should be accompanied by sudden passion, emotion, but instead the things..." Read more
"...What gives us a soul? What is the meaning of an individual life? This moving, compassionate story offers germane insights, and for this reader,..." Read more
"...I'm usually not a huge fan of "adult" fiction. It moves too slowly for me, and I'm not interested in the characters as much as I am in those found..." Read more
Customers have mixed opinions about the characters in the book. Some find them deeply developed and realistic, while others say they seem totally unconcerned and disinterested.
"Ishigiro's Never Let Me Go is beautifully written and the character development is excellent...." Read more
"...In addition, the main characters are strangely passive...." Read more
"...And the VOICE the narrator has is SO REAL I've often got myself wondering if that's what a real author is supposed to be like, to write like...." Read more
"...writer's skill that four stars seemed required, but I felt distanced from the characters...." Read more
Customers are mixed about the emotional intensity of the book. Some mention that the characters are calm and resigned, creating a sense of normalcy. However, others say that the book lacks emotional fervor and intelligence, with limited interpersonal relationships.
"...The actual interpersonal relationships portrayed are also very limited...." Read more
"...What Ishiguro's novel so marvelously does is create a sense of normalcy that is something completely unexpected and ultimately more moving...." Read more
"...wasn't a sympathetic character, but somehow I had trouble channeling her emotional connection to the events of her life...." Read more
"...Never Let Me Go is presented in a quiet, reflective way, and, because of that and it's first person narrative, it's more poignant revelations are in..." Read more
Customers are mixed about the book length. Some mention that it's short and innocent, while others say that it takes reading almost the entire book before you find out what it is.
"...TOO LONG; DIDN'T READ - If you want an entertaining book, full of action, adventure and emotion, this IS NOT the book you want to read...." Read more
"This is the epitome of a good book: it is interesting, moving, of manageable length, and not too difficult to read...." Read more
"...won't ruin it by saying anything about it other than it takes reading almost the entire book before you finally find out what it's all about." Read more
"...Sadly, it did not. The story line was very dragged on and barely had a climax to it...." Read more
Customers find the novel disappointing in its lack of complexity, with many unanswered questions and simplistic tactics. They also describe the book as boring, predictable, and unsettled. Customers also mention that the premise feels like a thin gimmick and the universe is not self-consistent.
"...is given to small, ponderous details, and the larger questions are merely hinted at. In addition, the main characters are strangely passive...." Read more
"...Ruth is manipulative, selfish, and a habitual liar...." Read more
"...Unfortunately, the subject matter was not really addressed...." Read more
"...on this topic was largely unsatisfying - which made the premise feel like a thin gimmick that left more questions than answers...." Read more
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So good - go in blind!
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This is not a horror novel by any means! This is an examination of a certain aspect of our culture and how we can all be indoctrinated to accept it.
I don't want to re-outline the entire plot, since so many reviewers have already done so. What makes this story so powerful is how understated it is. We watch these children grow from childhood to adulthood, always knowing how their lives will unfold. Cloned from their "models", they know that they will eventually be harvested for their vital organs. This is their purpose, and it is never questioned. Ever. Sometimes certain events or things will cause the protagonists to stop and almost reconsider their destinies, but they fail to consider it fully and go on with their lives as they've been taught to. Notably, there is an abandoned boat towards the end of the book. Kathy, Ruth, and Tommy make their way to the dock to peer at this ticket to freedom. Kathy notes the cabin size and condition and it's clear they could take that boat somewhere and be free. They don't. They don't even discuss it. They just watch it sitting there. Kathy and Tommy drive all over the English countryside-- it's clear they have their physical freedom. They drive to clinics to visit other donors, to stores to shop, cafes to relax in, and hospitals for pre-donation testing. There are no doors or bars holding these people in. They are conditioned from day one to live their lives knowing they will one day donate and "complete". Nobody they know has done otherwise. There are no rumors about anyone refusing their preordained destinies.
Herein lies the books strength and its weakness. Throughout the novel, I thought it seemed as if it was leading up to a more climactic event. And, it did and didn't. The climax was a bit anticlimactic and the characters brought in to meet with the two heroes seemed flat (while empathetic) and lacking depth. The horror this meeting could have evoked was felt more fully through the use of Tommy's hopeful art, through some of the thoughts Kathy had and immediately disregarded. It seemed as if more could have and should have been done with that rather than this macabre meeting with the two former school administrators.
Yet, at the same time, maybe this is the novel's strength. Freedom is hinted at, yet not taken. There is no prison, yet they are prisoners of society and their own minds. There is love, but maybe the passion is lacking because they know subconsciously there is no future. And, Kathy has seen her friends complete. She knows what's coming after donation number 4 for the man she loves. She changes the subject when he brings the subject up. She dismisses it because it's too difficult to openly discuss it. We know this and they know this. And, although this might be the book's strength, I do yearn for this discussion. I'm left without real closure and I want them to wake up.
This is heartily recommended.
A few things.
*** Mild spoilers ahead ***
First, I love Ishiguro. He's an outstanding writer. The Remains of the Day is perhaps the greatest novel about unrequited love ever written in the English language. But even Ishiguro is a master at only a few themes. Simply put, his best works are about characters who are unable to break free from their predestined paths. They can be constricted by Victorian manners (such are the protagonists in Remains of the Day), or they are constricted by an inescapable understanding that they will will live very short lives (as the protagonists in Never Let Me Go). The idea to break free and escape never occurs to any of these charaters in Ishiguro's finest works. England might as well be a maximum security prison - a giant gray Alcatraz. And no matter what, none of his characters dare lose their dignity.
Never Let Me Go is not science fiction, nor is it a dystopia novel (like 1984). The best way I can put it is that it is a brilliant short story or novella, expanded to novel length if for no other reason than to let the reader soak-in the sterile, gray environments the protagonists inhabit. The novel is written as a free form memoir, with a terribly irritating literary device. The narrator, Kathy H., has a habit of getting ahead of herself, telling us of a crucial turning point or event, but forces herself to backtrack in order to set-up the next major point (usually expressed as "I'll return to that later" or "more on that later"). And when she does divulge the details of this major turning point, it is usually a creepy, awkward conversation between her and one of her two closest friends, Tommy or Ruth. It becomes quite clear that these characters have a radically isolated and skewed worldview. For them (or at least Kathy H.) major events are not graduations, or moving to a new residence, or even death. No, major events are spilling secrets and making the occasional error of saying too much or being too harsh towards one's somewhat distant friend. In other words, they are totally old school British schoolchildren in a bubble. These schoolchildren inhabit an alternate England - one that has advanced science far greater than the real postwar UK.
Never Let Me Go has scenes from this alternate England that you may never forget. The empty rural roads and service stations where Kathy H. finds peace driving her car. The perpetually gray skies. The refuse and trash collecting in the trees and barbed wire in a field somewhere in the east. The casual, passionless relationship the characters have with sex and death. The stiff upper lip attitude of wanting to make it to one's fourth 'donation'. It really is a brilliant work if you accept the argument that it is a dystopian story that avoids going into any details of the dystopia.
In other words, this is not Children of Men. The Europe in this novel might be in the midst of a serious public health crisis, but Never Let Me Go neither hints at one nor explains what it might be. Or Europe might be so prosperous, so technologically advanced, that the creation of these children might have seemed as natural as any advancement in a First World society. Ishiguro gives nothing away, expect for a key line about how science advanced so quickly after 1946 that there 'was no time' to consider the morality or logic of those advancements. In other words, England had become a well mannered monster. By 1996, England was consuming living, breathing, beautiful children as easily as stocks were traded on the FTSE. These children will be throughly educated, grow up, experience two years of independent, sexually liberated life, and then work to fulfill their predetermined destinies. And this England, as you might expect, seems quietly proud of that achievement, despite having 'no time' to ponder the consequences. Because, I suspect, more important things in English society must be maintained. There are cricket matches and afternoon tea parties to attend, after all. Carry on, you English. I am certain Ishiguro is attracted to that theme given the similarities to 20th century Japan's adherence to honor, dignity, and constrained mannerisms.
That alone is highly disturbing and original. And while I suspect Ishiguro was inspired by Dolly the Sheep in 1996, others with more sinister agendas have already looked to this novel for ideological ammunition. Opponents of embryonic stem cell research and abortion see parallels in this novel. They see how a society, with good intentions of advancing health and science, can destroy perfectly good lives. The difference they cannot escape, however, is that the children in this novel are not in a lab or in a uterus. But I am just rubbed the wrong way when I see 'Antis' flocking to a book by a secular British man as a source for their petty arguments.
But as Kathy H. might say, let me return to what I was saying about the novel itself.
I feel like such a picky reader when I complain that this could have been a novella or short story. As great and elegant a writer as Ishiguro is, even he has no serious justification for the length of this work. There is much creepiness and some suspense, but no tension. Rather it is a largely atmospheric work. At least the book gives us two amazing sequences, the road trip to Norfolk, and Tommy's moment of rebellion and passion (which may very well reflect the frustration of many readers of this book). Even a quiet, introverted student like Tommy has to let it all out when he (and we) discover that we were told so much and at the same time, so very little.
But there is a glimmer of hope - the 2010 movie directed by Mark Romanek. Not only will the story line be tighter, it might play better in the medium of cinema, despite offering no answers as to what happened to this alternate world.
And of course, that is Ishiguro's point. This novel is intended to make us think about our real world and our lives. For succeeding at that, I give him tons of credit. For reprising his themes of people locked in their manners, bubbles, and fates, I also bestow him much credit. But for stretching it to 287 pages, I feel I must deduct stars.
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