Culture writer Molly Schoenfeld praises three books by Kazuo Ishiguro and looks at how each one speaks of our society despite their fantasy genre

Deputy Editor and final-year BA History student.
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The best books are the ones in which the words you read feel like the thoughts in your head. That is to say, the prose flows so easily that you forget that you are reading at all. Kazuo Ishiguro’s novels certainly achieve this: each story effortlessly and beautifully explores themes of memory, relationships and humanity. Although his novels vary in time and location, their messages are universal. As Ishiguro himself once said, the fact that he was raised in Britain by his Japanese family gives him a different perspective of society. The three novels listed below, which are all set in Britain, exemplify this, with Ishiguro making observations about civilization that many of us would probably never make ourselves.

The Remains of the Day (1989)

The British ‘stiff-upper lip’ has never been more apparent than in this story of Mr Stevens: a Prufrock-esque butler working in ‘Darlington Hall’ in the early 20th Century. Stevens has sadly forfeited his personal life in order to entertain Lord Darlington’s guests, serve dinners and retain his own ‘dignity.’

After the demise of Darlington, the hall’s new owner, Mr Farraday, suggests Stevens takes a holiday. Stevens’ physical journey through the countryside beautifully reflects his mental journey. He manages to come to understand both the truth behind his employment and what he has sacrificed for his career.

The novel is a poignant illustration of how the Second World War changed British society for good, with the defeat of fascism and increased decolonisation reducing the grip of the aristocracy on society. Stevens is thus beginning his journey out of a bygone era of ‘servant-master’ relationships into a more bottom-up society.

Ishiguro’s tragic examination of the effects of repressed emotions highlights how avoidable and self-inflicted this mindset is

Ishiguro’s tragic examination of the effects of repressed emotions highlights how avoidable and self-inflicted this mindset is. Stevens, as an unreliable narrator both for readers and for himself, uses his words as weapons against his own feelings. As if in a ‘Comedy of Manners’, he hilariously claims that he reads love stories only as an ‘efficient way to maintain and develop one’s command of the English language.’

Cleverly, the confrontation of Stevens’ emotions is entirely internal, with Stevens himself guiding us through his self-discovery. In other words, whilst it may seem that Stevens’ repression is due to oppressive societal norms, it is primarily due to his life choices. This bittersweet realisation will certainly leave you reaching for the tissues.

Never Let Me Go (2005)

This poignant exploration of humanity is set in a twisted, alternative Britain. Kathy, the narrator, reflects on her seemingly Arcadian childhood at Hailsham School, where children are raised to eventually make ‘donations’ – all will become clear. She recounts her childhood and adolescence with an adult perspective, gradually revealing that all was not as it seemed.

The story starts like Malory Towers and ends like Gattaca, with elements of dystopia and science-fiction slowly being interwoven into the narrative

The story starts like Malory Towers and ends like Gattaca, with elements of dystopia and science-fiction slowly being interwoven into the narrative. Characters’ relationships are so carefully crafted that you truly care for them, making the tragedy even more difficult to digest.

Ishiguro constructs an unnerving three-act tragedy: the first is at school, the second during Kathy’s adolescence at ‘the cottages’, and the last at the ‘donations’ stage – an eerie depiction of the stages of human life.

In a similar vein to Mr Stevens’ self-discovery, Kathy’s reflection on her past helps her tragically come to terms with the present. This chilling story of innocence, ignorance and growing up assesses the consequences of being born into a context in which you are unaware of the role society has imposed on you. This message unexpectedly links to the Black Lives Matter movement, which alerts us to the terrible past underscoring present day events.

The Buried Giant (2015)

A blend of history, mythology and philosophy culminates in this hypnotic allegory which illustrates the problems surrounding collective memory – no wonder it took Ishiguro ten years to finish. Set in the Middle Ages after the collapse of the Roman Empire, this story is a cross between Merlin and the Lord of the Rings, but features fewer hunky sorcerers and elves, and significantly more slaughter and despair.

The novel’s protagonists are Axl and Beatrice: an elderly couple who live in a tightly knit Briton community. Yet, because of ‘the mist,’ the community has trouble remembering the past. Axl and Beatrice are eager to remove ‘the mist’ so that they can find their son.

They decide to go out on a perilous journey to discover the truth, encountering problems that are both natural and supernatural, including ogres and dragons. They even come across a hill that supposedly contains a giant – a beautiful metaphor for the truth they are going to uncover, which should instead perhaps be left to lie.

The fantasy elements are instead embellishments which shed light on Ishiguro’s thoughts about humanity

Drawing on themes of Greek mythology and British legends, the story is bursting with stunning symbolism. Yet, similar to the likes of Harry Potter, the fantasy features are by no means central to the book; it is the human relationships that you truly care about. As a result, the fantasy elements are instead embellishments which shed light on Ishiguro’s thoughts about humanity.

This is a marvelously daring novel which, like Never Let Me Go, asks whether it is better to know about the horrors of the past, or whether ignorance is instead bliss. The fact that the story is set in a world so different from our own means that the truths it proclaims are heard loud and clear.

 


 

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