Archive for The Remains of the Day

never let me go [book review]

Posted in Books, Kids, pictures, Travel with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 15, 2017 by xi'an

Another chance occurrence led me to read that not so recent book by Kazuo Ishiguro, taking advantage of my short nights while in Warwick. [I wrote this post before the unexpected Nobelisation of the author.] As in earlier novels of his, the strongest feeling is one of melancholia, of things that had been or had supposed to have been and are no longer. Especially the incomparable The Remains of the Day… In the great tradition of the English [teen] novel, this ideal universe is a boarding school, where a group of students bond and grow up, until they face the real world. The story is told with a lot of flashbacks and personal impressions of the single narrator, which made me uncertain of the reality behind her perception and recasting. And of her role and actions within that group, since they always appear more mature and sensible than the others’. The sinister features of this boarding school and the reasons why these children are treated differently emerge very very slowly through the book and the description of their treatment remains unclear till the end of the book. Purposely so. However, once one understands the very reason for their existence, the novels looses its tension, as the perpetual rotation of their interactions gets inconsequential when faced with their short destinies. While one can get attached to the main characters, the doom awaiting them blurs the relevance of their affairs and disputes. Maybe what got me so quickly distanced from the story is the complacency of these characters and the lack of rebellion against their treatment, unless of course it was the ultimate goal of Ishiguro to show that readers, as the “normal” characters in the story, would come to treat the other ones as not completely human… While the final scene about souvenirs and memories sounding like plastic trash trapped on barbed wires seems an easy line, I appreciated the slow construct of the art pieces of Tommy and the maybe too obvious link with their own destiny.

When searching for reviews about this book, I discovered a movie had been made out this book, in 2011, with the same title. And of which I had never heard either..! [Which made me realise the characters were all very young when they died.]

when we were orphans

Posted in Books, Kids, Travel with tags , , , , on February 9, 2014 by xi'an

Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day is one of my favourite novels for its bittersweet depiction of the growing realisation that the main character has wasted his life. This other novel has the same thread of backward perspectives and of missed opportunities, however the main character (Banks) is of a very different nature. The way When we were orphans is written, one starts thinking this is all about an English detective trying to uncover the truth behind a very personal  tragedy, the disappearance of both his parents in Shanghai when he was a child. But progressively the narrative gets fractured and incoherent and we progressively doubt the author’s story, then his sanity. By the end of the book, it is just impossible to sift reality from imagination, daydreaming from life accomplishments. For instance, Banks presents himself as a detective with a certain degree of fame in London circles. However, there is no description whatsoever of his methods or of specific cases. The closest to a description is a child murder (and worse?) where a local constable pleads for the detective to hit at the heart of evil, in a completely incoherent discourse. The storytelling qualities of Ishiguro are so perfect that the character remains a mystery till the end. It is not even sure that he has at all left the acting as a detective he used to indulge in with his Japanese neighbour in Shanghai! The most disturbing section occurs when he revisits Shanghai at the time of the Japanese invasion and thinks he can link his parents’ disappearance with the said invasion and solve both of them at once. It is only when he enters a battle zone in the slums of the city that reality seems to reassert itself, but even then the reunification of Banks and the Japanese friend from his childhood is so unrealistic that the most likely interpretation is that Banks is in a permanent denial and that the Japanese officer he rescued plays the game to stay alive. Still, the story is told in such a way that one can never be sure of any of these interpretations and this is what makes it such a great book, more complex than The Remains of the Day in its construction, if less compelling because of the unfocussed nature of most characters, which we can never grasp hard enough…