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.
Fascinating. Mesmerizing. Intriguing.
Much like the car crash that you can’t take your eyes off of, this novel had me stymied as to how I felt about it. One minute repulsed and the next fascinated. From “I really like this book” to “I hate this book.”
Kathy has reconnected with two old friends, Ruth and Tommy, from her days as a student at a school for “special” children, Hailsham. Their memories of the place include being fenced in and being looked after by “guardians” who emphasize healthy habits. Things happen there that make them suspicious of what the future holds for them, especially the statements of one rogué guardian, but it isn’t until they get to the second stage, the ‘Cottages,” where they are able to explore the world on their own, that the meaning of their life starts to sink in. They are preparing to be “carers” but hold out hope that Ruth and Tommy, as a couple, may be able to get a deferral. Finally, in Book 3, it becomes apparent that all three have followed the traditional route. Ruth and Tommy are now both donors, awaiting their first, second, third and fourth donation of organs, or until they “complete,” Ishiguro’s suggestive euphemism for death.
The writing is straight forward and certainly kept me turning pages. The characters themselves were flat and emotionless by design and the creepiness of the plot was unsettling. So at this point, I’m ambivalent, I still can’t say I liked or disliked the book. Then again, the topic is important and not actually out of the question, which makes it all the more….well….creepy. Enter at your own risk.
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world
That has such people in't!
When reading Ishiguro's book, I couldn't help
Never Let Me Go will haunt me for a long time. Last year, when reading The Adoration of Jenna Fox, and when I recently read Unwind, I had the same feelings and thoughts, ie how far will society go to make the perfect human; to what extent do we compromise the process of natural death, replacing it with a brave new world of those with new organs, limbs and "souls."
This is a remarkable tale that is deceptively slow moving. Each nuanced sentence is a marvel, each paragraph and chapter gently unfolds while paradoxically hitting with a punch.
Told through the voice of the character Kathy H, we feel as though we are chatting with her over a cup of coffee as she tells her story, engaging us with her tale of childhood, of adulthood and of discovering the fate that will eventually unfold.
With Kathy, we are transported to dystopian Britain where enclaves of sequestered young people live in community. Through tidbits of information we learn they are clones whose sole purpose in life is for the harvesting of their organs.
As Kathy and her two friends Ruth and Tommy leave one part of their life, they are transported to cottages wherein they begin to have contact with the outside world. Again, through veiled comments and secrets, they discover that this second phase is to prepare them for the process of "Donation."
Welcome to the world of the future wherein the term "The Haves and the Have Nots" takes on an entirely different meaning than the reference of today.
Watching a young girl dancing by herself in a dream of romantic love and fulfilment is a heartbreaking experience to anyone who knows what her future inevitably looks like. I find it heartening to hear about the large number of school children who simply decide to *bleep* the future and get whatever they can out of what's on offer right now.
The fact that most of us haven't made that choice and have decided to plod, plod, plod along like stupid dray horses, is the answer to the question why the characters in this novel don't pull some sort of "Logan's Run".
How dare they!? How dare they do that to them! To these innocent children!!
Never Let Me Go is loaded with chilling philosophical/ethical dilemnas & spiritual conundrums, reminiscent of what Rod Serling accomplished in his Twilight Zone vignettes. Describing the plot in greater detail would ruin the experience of Never Let Me Go. I had the misfortune of seeing a certain tag for this novel before I read it and so knew beforehand what the "secrets" were. Wish I hadn't seen that stupid tag, because the slow mind blowing waves of realization when they break would've hurt a lot worse had I entered the novel naive. I recommend reading Never Let Me Go ignorant of its designs, aware only that once you do know what Hailsham and its students represent, you might wish you didn't.
I believe Never Let Me Go, in 50 years, will be looked back upon in a similarly reverent fashion as we now look back upon Brave New World, We, & 1984. Instant classic in my book.
And a final word on the title. The title's taken from a song the protagonist, Kathy, discovered on a cassete tape and loved as a child. The song, "Never Let Me Go," touched her deeply. The title, of course, is a pun, referencing not only the obscure song but also speaking to what's in the heart of Kathy, what she wants to hold onto as a person, her identity. "Never let me go" is a plea resonating in Kathy's soul; a plea she's made to herself at some point; a plea (if I may jump inside Kathy's mind for a moment) "for me to remain me", but is this a plea that's possible and can ultimately be heeded? Guess you'll have to read it to find out.
The book is mostly a description of a rather idyllic adolescence at an English boarding school, centering around a closely observed triangle of relationships. There is plenty of interest and drama, and yet a curious mutedness. Even in the relationships among the protagonists, more is communicated by what is not said than by what is said.
The author's control, and his ability to reveal the truth in exquisitely small steps, is unparalleled.
Prior to its release I heard an interview on NPR with the author of Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro.
Kathy, Ruth and Tommy are students at Hailsham, a boarding school in some remote corner of England. Hailsham is also an orphanage of sorts, because the children have lived there all of their lives, having been raised by their "teachers." The reader understands pretty quickly the nature of their future role in society and, as such, the entire novel seethes with an underlying mood of bleak horror without ever getting truly mired in it until very close to the end. One reads with a kind of grim fascination as these kids obsess over the minutiae of their lives - what pop album to buy at the semi-annual Sale held at the school, whether or not their artwork would be chosen for display in the mythical gallery, their petty squabbles and school yard romances. Even after they learn the truth, these things still matter to them, leading the reader to wonder why. How can they care about such nonsense when faced with such a dire and inescapable fate?
But isn’t that life?
Don’t we all fill our lives with meaningless clutter in order to avoid contemplating death? The kids at Hailsham are living their lives, facing the inevitability of death and coping in the same way we all do. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter the manner in which anyone dies - the simple fact is, we all die and we all spend our lives trying to drown out the thought of it with the clamor and clatter of the mundane. Toward the end of her story, the narrator, Kathy, finds love with a fellow student and they attempt to bargain their way out of their fate, but this episode is hardly depicted as an angry rebellion against an evil and cold-hearted government, but rather a simple questioning, in the same way a dying person questions or bargains with God.
This is a thought provoking book, quiet in its power. Read it before you see the film. Better yet, read it instead of seeing the film.
As for the story, I won't get into spoilers but there are plenty of comments that will give you a slight idea before you start. The story almost requires that so that you have some framework to fit it into as it is revealed. The narration is a little disjointed and jumps in time a bit, just like it would if someone sat down and started telling you something and then realized that they had to go back even further so it would make sense.
I found the real thread of the story was life in community. The years of the children in the boarding school are a study in how they relate to each other and how they conspire with the adults to not dwell on the uncomfortable topics. Then there is the atmosphere of the farmhouse where some of them stay after they leave the boarding school. And finally the community where the caretaker no longer has as much in common with old friends as the people in the nursing home have with each other.
For many reasons, it is a lonely story in the end.
This is the story of three young people (Kathy, Ruth, and Tommy) at a private school in England and how their relationship to each other developed over the course of their lives. No, I will not give you the spoiler here in my review. What I did think, though, is that the “hook” that makes this an unusual story should not have been foreshadowed in the beginning (as it was only too obvious what it meant), but it should have been revealed much later in the novel. That aside, I also could not understand why Kathy and Ruth were friends at all. Theirs was such a contentious relationship!
The novel itself is interesting in a thought-provoking way. I’m sorry that the novel mostly centered on the characters' relationships and did not delve further into their more specific roles later in life. I liked this novel, though. Even the long-winded explanations given by the narrator, Kathy, of what life was like for her during her school years.
That said, the one thing holding me back from loving this book was that it did not feel evenly paced. As the story progressed, more and more is revealed about the characters and the world they live in until finally, in several pages of almost pure monologue, all the details get spilled out right before the book ends. This just felt unnatural to the rest of the story to me and it almost wasn't necessary. This doesn't ruin the book but it did stick out.
Plotwise, there is little
By the halfway point of the novel, the true meaning of many of the book's veiled incidents and terms are at last revealed, with the remainder of the book dealing with the consequences of these revelations. The deliberateness of the novel's pacing, given that Kathy as a narrator is prone to fits of digression, is Ishiguro's trademark, but one that fits especially well in this plot. The care given to the story's construction is reflected in the moments where earlier events, which seemed to have little significance at the time, have much larger consequences later -- Kathy's reading of porn magazines, for instance, jumps out.
If there's a weakness to the novel, it's in its resolution, which is staged too much like a hero-nemesis matchup to feel as genuine as the rest of the novel, and it's unfortunate that the explanatory section is the one that rings most false. Yet even with its flaws, Never Let Me Go is surprising and surprisingly engrossing.
Like Ishiguro is wont to do, he will bait you very gently, almost imperceptibly, but before this tour de force novel ends, you'll be inextricably hooked.
This was not the case for me with this book at all. It was a page turner, something that I'd never expect from Ishiguro. For me the story was crafted, planned and delivered perfectly. Of course there's something that left me troubled after finishing and I can't articulate what that is. But whether I like the story or not I can't take away from the fact that this book is so well written that it completely grasped me.
Ishiguro has made a powerful statement with this book, one so emphatically troubling. The book has a poetic tone throughout and it created disturbing images in my mind that at times actually made me shudder. It's all very sad.
The book actually reminded me a lot about The Catcher in the Rye that I love so much, minus the humour. What this book has that a lot of other ones lack, is the author's mastery of suspense, making you want to go further to find out about what's happening, but at the same time keeping a very clear roadmap of all things, not just for himself but for the audience as well. I never found myself lost in the flashbacks. In this regard, the book reminded me of The Time Traveler's Wife, which gave me a new look and a new appreciation for science fiction. This book did something of the sort for me as well. Its impact on me was only enhanced by the fact that I knew nothing about it at the beginning, other than that it was a near Booker winner.
I think too many people are judging the quality of a book based on whether they like the story or not. While I think to a certain extent that readers are entitled to do that, I think there's a lack of objectivity in doing so. I, like many who have read this book, am disturbed and made sad by it, but I must say that it was exactly what the book had set out to do, and because of that it's exceedingly well written and effective.
That 1/2 star that I retain is for the fact that such depression can't possibly make my absolute favourite list, and for that something troubling, which I can't quite articulate.
We learn, in the same way the students at the school learn, the destiny of these children. They are given information at an early age about what they are being raised for, but they don't really KNOW in any meaningful way. They are being indoctrinated to accept what to us is a horrifying life and end. But to the students, it becomes ordinary, acceptable, and normal. This is the magic of the book. We learn that the children are clones and their purpose is to make "donations" of their organs later in life. We learn, as do they, that this destiny is without recourse, cannot change. There is no question or doubt that this is all life has in store. And because it has become so completely ordinary, there is no sense of horror or any kind or rebellion on the part of the donors, it just is. This to me was the true point of the book. In the right set of circumstances, even the most horrific of actions can be made commonplace and acceptable. So it was a horror story of the best kind.
The language is beautiful, the characters have great depth, and the story is so deceptively simple. But so calmly and quietly are the layers revealed that it seemed all of a sudden that I was spellbound with anticipation as the suspense grew almost unbearable. I will remember and think about this book for many years, as one of the best I have ever read.
This is the kind of book that doesn't make its full impact until a few minutes after you have closed the cover. Written in lush but subdued prose, the narrative seems to unfold with a calmness and clarity that belies the book's true nature. From the outset, Ishiguro seems to be able to do something miraculous with this tale. He begins by describing some very commonplace events in the lives of a handful of students at Halisham, but peeking from beneath the more typical story he begins to interject random flashes of theme that seem almost disconnected and alien to the story itself. As more and more of the students' experiences are related it becomes clear that something "other" is going on, but with touches of brilliant technique, the readers of this story, like the characters themselves, are left on the precipice of understanding, splendidly misdirected into believing that things are just as they appear on the surface.
During the middle sections of the story, when both reader and character are just beginning to understand what is going on, a conversation occurs between the characters that documents just how much and in what ways the truths of their existence have been kept from them. In explaining it to each other, they come to conclude that they have been told, yet not told, about themselves, the facts being released to them at a time when it is almost impossible for them to understand them. Later, when these initial facts have set in, they become similar to ingrained truth and make the monstrous reality seem commonplace. It was at this point that I began to realize that this is exactly what was happening to the reader. It was the perfect specimen of art imitating life and it was one of the things that made the book so distinguished.
There were really two tales going on: the somewhat placid and serene tale of life as a Halisham student, full to the brim with the minutia of friendships, relationships and education, and the hidden and horrendous reality that was taking place underneath. Throughout the story it became clear by degrees what was really in store for these children, but I still found it both shocking and distressing when everything was finally brought to the surface in the last third of the book. Much of what was planned for them was spelled out in a direct way, but most of the horror of these discoveries was based on what was implied about what had been going on and its inevitable conclusion. The full story, once revealed, was extremely sad and I felt that Ishiguro was really able to capture the despondence and unfruitful hope that permeated these characters' lives. It was curious how detached they seemed to be, how resigned and accepting they were as they walked towards their destines. It was only later that I realized that they had no other basis for comparison and that the strange life they led was the only life they had ever known.
The characterization in this book was immaculate as well. Though the characters were meant to be somewhat indistinct, I found that they were all fully formed and that they were easy to identify with because they embodied the characteristics of people I have known throughout my life. That was one of the things that was so haunting about this book: I felt as though I knew these people in some way; one in particular reminded me of a friend I had long ago, so it was all the more disturbing to realize what was in store for them. To see their fate played out was frightening in a way that I tried not to examine too closely. I suppose the closeness I felt to the characters was in itself another of Ishiguro's deft manipulations, and that the book would have lost a lot of its impact if one were not so attuned to the characters' individuality and emotions.
I really loved this book for its intricacy and beautiful construction and think that its an excellent example of literary writing infused with just the right amount of psychological suspense. There is so much to explore within the constructs of this story, and in the end, the discussions that could be had about this book might be almost as complex as the book itself. I would definitely say that this is one of the better books I have read this year and that its subtlety and revelations were created with a master's touch. Reading this book was pleasurable, and in many ways, scary, but I am thankful that I have had the experience. A great read and highly recommended. I would love the chance to explore this book further and hear other's opinions, so if you have read it and would like to discuss it, please let me know!
The premise is quite intriguing: students raised at Hailsham are repeatedly told of how special they are and how they must take care of their bodies. The narrator, Kathy, in the present is a "carer." Most of the other students are "donors," who
First of all, it grated on me that the story followed the exact same format as The Remains of the Day, even though the voice was very different. It begins in the present, hints at the outcome of events, and then most of the book is spent meandering over meaningful memories until the climax. I never felt like I got to really know the first person narrator; most of the story really focuses on her friends Ruth (who isn't very likable) and Tommy. They are fully realized and complex characters. Maybe Ishiguro wasn't in his element in trying to mix in scifi. Many things are heavily hinted at in the book, but then the climax is heavy-handed but doesn't really explain everything. (Why not try and run? Rebel?) There wasn't really a conflict in the book. Everyone did what they were supposed to do. In Remains of the Day that sort of gentle storytelling worked because the butler did sacrifice everything for his master - he was his job. But here... maybe these characters were chosen for their domestication. I don't know. The ending left me disappointed. I felt like shaking these people.
Ishiguro crafts a picturesque boarding school world populated by seemingly normal students, with all the pettiness, mean-spiritedness and misunderstandings of everyday teens. However, it is clear from the start that something is subtly different about these children and the way they are being brought up.
The narrator of Never Let Me Go is Kathy H, a young "carer" in England. Throughout the novel she reminisces about her childhood, coming of age and friendships with Ruth and Tommy in an open, conversational style. She's a wonderfully developed character who holds your interest and sympathy throughout the book.
I won’t say much else, so that when and, if you do decide to read this, everything can be as new and shocking to you as it was to me -a real page-turner.
This story was deeply sad, moving, and absorbing. It is one that will stay with you.
Though all the stages of life are dealt with in turn, it is the deconstruction of Ishiguro's characters, and therefore the deconstruction of the human mind itself, that forms the heart of this novel. The subject matter may lean towards science fiction, but the author's approach refuses to follow; the humanity of his protagonists is never called into question for a moment. They are simply too real for that. Such is the perceptiveness and complexity with which he brings them to life that all of us will find something of ourselves in them, and ultimately feel the atrocity of the wrong done to them with profound intensity.
Indeed, it is perhaps Ishiguro's refusal to examine the mechanics of his scenario – his persistent focus on its human, emotional aspects – that make the novel so universally engaging. It is a study of humanity that seems, itself, to be human; a portrait of repression that is, itself, repressed; a tale of careful avoidance that carefully avoids its own ideas. It is a novel realised through memories and feelings that is utterly memorable and heartfelt – and, as the title promises, its resonating after-effects will never quite let you go.
In short, the young people featured in this book are assumed to be no more than drones. But the story is told from their point-of-view. What is it like to be raised from birth with this identity stamped upon you? How do you live when all your dreams are denied? When the people in the privileged classes can question whether you are human at all?
The book has had an impact on me now that I've finished it, more than it did while I was reading it. For there was a coolness exhibited by the characters throughout that proved a barrier for me to get much emotionally involved. Was this simply evidence of the British "stiff upper lip"? Or are we to think that a knowledge of their futures had just this kind of anesthetizing effect on their emotions? Or, given this was an "alternative" Britain, maybe genetic engineering was practiced to develop a breed that was so detached. In any case, I found it particularly surprising that when a true awareness developed among the characters during their teenage years of what their fate held, there was not a single case of adolescent rebellion. They all just accepted it. This was not "The Hunger Games."
But because the book carries implications for the way our world does treat whole classes, thinking only of our needs without considering their own, I suspect I shall carry with me for a very long time.
With no exploration of the many issues raised by the basic premise of the novel, it became for me a rather nonotonous observation of the prattlings of self-absorbed teenagers. A very disappointing book.
Simple, subtle, and insidious. The most horrifying parts are the ones that are the most familiar.
The Whole Enchilada
Never Let Me Go is a book I couldn’t stop reading, and one I'm not going to be able to stop thinking about for quite some time. On the surface it can almost come off as
You see, Kathy, Ruth and Tommy aren’t just your average lovelorn teenagers; they each have an important and specific purpose which they absolutely cannot escape or deviate from. It is this purpose, what it means and how they gradually come to terms with it, which sets their love triangle apart from all others. Each of their decisions and reactions takes on much more weight and importance than you might otherwise find. It is the contrast of this simple and recognizable story set in such amongst such utterly disturbing circumstances that makes it so powerful, and so impossible for the reader to put down.
Ishiguro proves that he is a master storyteller with Never Let Me Go. It’s clear from the very first sentence that there is something not quite right about the world that our narrator Kathy H. belongs to, but Ishiguro (and Kathy) take their time revealing exactly what that disconnect is. This exquisite restraint is what keeps the reader going, what causes a frisson every few pages, and what makes the careful reader look closely at every seemingly innocent event, every mysterious character, and every curious choice of words.
One of the things that struck this careful reader most strongly by the end of the book was the way vocabulary is almost hijacked by those in power to keep the powerless from rebelling. There is nothing so effective as using a victim’s own language to induce pain, confusion, and submission. The book begins, for example, with this: “My name is Kathy H. I’m thirty-one years old, and I’ve been a carer now for over eleven years... My donors have always tended to do much better than expected... hardly any of them have been classified as ‘agitated,’ even before fourth donation.” If all of this subversive and incomplete talk of “carers”, “donors” and eventually of “completing” doesn’t disturb you then there’s something wrong. Before the meaning had been revealed I shuddered every time I read the word "Completing;" once I knew for sure what it meant I had to hold back tears every time it cropped up in the story.
Never Let Me Go is both hard to read and too easy to read, all at the same time. It’s an extremely uncomfortable book that tells a story so important and compelling that it is impossible to put down.
Kathy, Ruth and Tommy are raised in an
It was that very acceptance that left me with the most questions. Why do none of the clones say no? Or try to run away, possibly to another country? Presumably it would be possible. But there is never a mention of one trying to do so. Wouldn’t at least a certain percentage become despondent and attempt suicide rather than be slowly carved apart over a period of years by doctors? Were the clones engineered to be more passive and less aggressive then standard humans to keep their chances of rebelling low? These questions aren’t addressed and it is a shame, because it would have given some clarity to the story. However, while certainly sad, Never Let Me Go is certainly worth reading.