Never Let Me Go (Paperback) by Kazuo Ishiguro - Reviews, Discussion, Bookclubs, Lists

rating	frequency	%
5		22%
4		37%
3		27%
2		9%
1		3%

topics	posts	views	last activity
The Next Best Boo...: OFFICIAL SUMMER CHALLENGE 2009	3876	4524	18 minutes ago

11/30/07

Trevor rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

Read in January, 2007

recommends it for: almost anyone

It is a pity that people are told this is a science fiction book before they read it. I feel the least interesting thing about it is that it is science fiction. I mean this in much the same way that the least interesting thing one could say about 1984 is that it is science fiction. As a piece of literature I enjoyed it much more than Margaret Atwood's Oryx and Crake and even more than Huxley's Brave New World.

The themes that make this book most interesting are to do with the socia...more It is a pity that people are told this is a science fiction book before they read it. I feel the least interesting thing about it is that it is science fiction. I mean this in much the same way that the least interesting thing one could say about 1984 is that it is science fiction. As a piece of literature I enjoyed it much more than Margaret Atwood's Oryx and Crake and even more than Huxley's Brave New World.

The themes that make this book most interesting are to do with the social alienation of groups of people on the basis of inherited genetic characteristics. In fact, as a critique of racism this book is utterly brilliant. Those being racially alienated are genetically identical (they are in fact clones) to those attacking them.

Plato believed those 'in the know' should tell lies to those 'who do not know' so as to protect them from the all too horrible truths about life. I have always hated this aspect of Plato, always finding it grotesque and frightening in its implications. Those implications are drawn out in all their disturbing horror here.

This book has much to say about the nature of 'illness' and how those inflicted with an 'illness' use the scars of that illness as the badges of truly belonging to the group. So that those 'less advanced' in the ravages of the illness don't really know or really belong to the group. As a portrait of victims adopting to being victims it says much about us as humans - thoughtful readers may find it says far too much. I write this on World Aids Day.

Ishiguro writes the most nightmarish novels I've ever read. In others, such as The Unconsoled or When We Were Orphans the nightmare feeling is due to the dreamlike oddity of the interconnection of events in the story. One reads these books in much the same way that one wakes from a disturbing dream, with feelings of disorientation and anxiety. Even though this is the most literal 'nightmare book' of his I have read - the world he creates being literally a nightmare, and made all the worse by being set in the recent past - it is a book totally lacking in that strange dreamlike quality so characteristic of these other novels. In this sense it seemed less of a nightmare than these others. If you struggled with these, you will not struggle with this in quite the same way.

He also has fascinating and quite painful things to say about the nature of love and how love has a proper time, a time that may be lost or missed. As someone who has loved, lost and missed I found this particularly challenging. The relationship between sex and love and illness is perhaps something people may find simply too much - not because this is handled in any way that is too explicit, but because I do believe we like to think that sex, as a manifestation of love, has curative and redemptive powers. A book that questions this, questions something we hold very dear and some readers may find this too much to ask.

This is also a book about betrayal. The betrayals we commit against those we love the most and yet that we barely can understand or explain after we have committed them - these are constant throughout the book. He is a writer all too aware of the human condition. The scene which gives the book its title is a wonderful example of the near impossibility of our being understood by others and yet our endless desire for just such an understanding.

There is nothing easy about reading this book - although it is written in the simplest of prose. It has an honesty of feeling that brands one's soul.

I loved this book and have thought about it a lot since I finished reading it and will think about it more. There is much more I would like to say, but there is no space. May we all be good carers before we complete.
(less)

Like this review? yes (40 people liked it)

13 comments

04/02/07

Michelle rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

bookshelves: -read-in-2007

Read in March, 2007

I can see Never Let Me Go being great for book clubs because it will generate a lot of discussion.

That being said, I didn't care for the book, for a couple of different reasons. The writing style is very conversational -- very much like you're having a discussion with the protagonist. The thing that annoyed me the most about this was the fact that the things that happened (so bob and I went walking to the store and we had a fight about the tree at school) and then the writer would...more I can see Never Let Me Go being great for book clubs because it will generate a lot of discussion.

That being said, I didn't care for the book, for a couple of different reasons. The writing style is very conversational -- very much like you're having a discussion with the protagonist. The thing that annoyed me the most about this was the fact that the things that happened (so bob and I went walking to the store and we had a fight about the tree at school) and then the writer would tell you about the tree and why it was significant, then tell you about the fight. This sort of device is interesting the first few times you see it, but it started to annoy me over time. Maybe because I talk like that, and get off into tangents and anecdotes.

Also, at the heart of the store is the purpose/fate of the main characters. I get the impression that the author wanted to drop clues about it, and then reveal it so that it is a shocking twist (who's Kaiser Soeze? ;) The thing is, the references really aren't that subtle, so by the time the twist is reavealed, it's not all that exciting. Not only that, but I had so many questions at the end. Like -- these people know their fate, but they never think to question it, and, in fact, seem to be glad for it.

This was supposed to be a coming of age story. Generally "coming of age" involves people growing up and moving forward with their lives; often they need to overcome some obstacle to reveal their potential. However, the characters seem to be stagnate the whole way through; their fate doesn't change. The blurb on the back of the book mentions that the characters, Kathy, Ruth and Tommy, all have a shared background that's special, and implies that they're lucky. When two of the charaters confront someone to see if they can defer their fate (they don't even bother trying to change it), we find out a little bit of what makes their shared background special, but we aren't given anything to compare it to (we're just told that similar people have horrible existences, but not how). And they find out that they can't defer their fate, but they don't really seem to care; they don't even seem to be particularly glad that they tried.

I've seen a couple of reviews compare this to book to Aldous Huxley's classic "Brave New World" and Margaret Atwood's "The Handmaid's Tale". Not even close. In both of these books we're exposed to an alternate reality, and we see how the main characters deal with their situations. Kazuo Ishiguro tries to sneak the alternate reality into the story, to take us by surprise.

I could go on, but I won't. Let's just say that I didn't care for this book and leave it at that.(less)

Like this review? yes (20 people liked it)

6 comments

04/23/08

Juushika rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

bookshelves: borrowed

Read in September, 2007

As a child, Kathy H. attended Hailsham, an elite boarding school where children were raised to be both healthy and artistic and taught to believe that both their health and creativity were essential to themselves and to the world they would one day enter. Now an adult, Kathy reflects back on her life. She charts the very slow progression of her growth, her friendships with fellow students Tommy and Ruth, and her knowledge, as she herself gradually began to learn about her role in the outside wor...more As a child, Kathy H. attended Hailsham, an elite boarding school where children were raised to be both healthy and artistic and taught to believe that both their health and creativity were essential to themselves and to the world they would one day enter. Now an adult, Kathy reflects back on her life. She charts the very slow progression of her growth, her friendships with fellow students Tommy and Ruth, and her knowledge, as she herself gradually began to learn about her role in the outside world—and what this role dictates about her identity. A combination of heavy introspection and soft-scifi, Never Let Me Go has a thought-provoking premise and is brilliantly written, but fails to reach its potential, spending all its time in excruciatingly slow buildup and none of it in impact, theory, or debate. Enjoyable, but somewhat empty, and so moderately recommended.

This book's greatest strength is its writing style, but it is also one of the most irritating aspects. Kathy, the narrator, is intensely thoughtful and analytical, breaking down her personal history into eras, important moments, and developing themes. She walks the reader through the story of her life much in the way she lived it, slowly, very slowly, bringing to light her final realizations. In other words, there is a lot hidden in this book, and it takes the book's entire length—literally until the last fifteen pages—to reveal it all. In between are circuitous examples, where Kathy starts to talk about one event, goes back a bit to explain why the event was relevant, explains the event itself, and then goes on without having drawn a major conclusion—instead, she's just mapped another point on her gradual arc or argument. The resulting pace is excruciating, both artful, brilliantly thought-out and executed, and simply painful as the reader is lead along, disappointed, and lead along again. The book's pace bring the characters to life (although both Ruth and Tommy lack some dimension) and, with it, the life that they lived, through Hailsham and beyond. As such, it is the highlight of the book, worked like an artform, but it is also intensely irritating and makes the book (which actually reads quite quickly) seem longer than it is.

There are a near-infinite number of issues, from the ethical to philosophical, that could be brought to question and debate in this book. The very premise almost begs them—both the science of the base culture and the purpose of Hailsham itself. Unfortunately, however, none of these topics are brought to issue in the text. Instead, the book is consumed by the very slow progression of the story, the creep towards the "twist" revelations of who the children are and what purpose they serve. When finally revealed, these revelations are not all that big—not because they lack the potential to be, but because they pale in comparison to the immense buildup that leads to them. The characters just barely exceed the gradual revelation of the book's premise and are largely just passive carriers of the story, and so the other various issues, the possible debates, never enter into the text. So when other reviewers talk about the questions this book raises, what they're really talking about is the potential for questions—and that is not the same thing. The burden of meaning for this book, everything that the reader could take away and continue to think about, rests entirely on the reader, who must pull out the themes and ask the questions himself, carry on the debates himself. The author shirks his responsibility, and the book suffers for it, failing to live up to its potential.

My final complaint with this book is that the underlying concept seems, blandly, unrealistic. **SPOILERS** follow, so be warned: The fact that in the book's contemporary culture the clones are considered non-human despite looking, acting, and living like humans seems entirely impossible. Consider: Humans never viewed the first cloned animals as different than their original counterparts; indeed, we were amazed and drew attention to the fact that they were identical, that they were clones. So why would cloned humans be any different (especially that these clones pass in human society as normal and indistinguishable)? Outside of the huge wastefulness of cloning entire humans just to harvest their organs, the fact that the cloned humans were not considered humans seems unreal to me, no matter who the gene donors were, no matter what brief attempts Ishiguro (though Ms. Emily) makes to justify it. **END SPOILERS** This is the underlying basis of the book's conflict and plot, and so problems with this concept create problems throughout the book. They weaken the foundations, making it difficult to accept the book and, as a result, even more difficult to take on the work of finding and analyzing themes, which the author fails too do. In the end, Never Let Me Go has a thoughtful premise with heavy potential for thought, theory, and debate, and it is skillfully, even artfully written, but the book fails to live up to its potential: the author does not tackle his own themes, and no matter how interesting the premise, it is an unreasonable one. I wanted to enjoy this book, and I did, but I felt cheated at the end: the final product was surprisingly empty, with the burden of meaning placed entirely and unfairly upon the reader alone.(less)

Like this review? yes (11 people liked it)

add a comment

03/02/08

Anne rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

bookshelves: 2008-read, fiction, library, scifi

Read in January, 2008

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here.

Hm. Let's see. It's by the guy who wrote Remains of the Day, so it has a bit of a "modern literature, good-for-you, subtly subtle investigation of people and their motivations, with people going into rooms and going, 'Oh! I, oh, well, oh. I didn't know you were in here.' 'Yes, Sebastian, what is it? I am moving books slightly to the left.' 'Oh. Well. I guess I'd better leave.' 'Yes, I guess you'd better had.'" sort of thing going on, which I find interesting when well-done (which I fin...more

Like this review? yes (9 people liked it)

add a comment

04/24/07

brad rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

Read in January, 2007

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here.

Set in a late 1990s England, Ishiguro places us in an uncomfortably realistic, sci-fi scenario where cloning is normative and routine. We follow the lives of Kathy, Ruth, and Tommy, students at Hailsham, a picturesque boarding school. Only about halfway into the novel is the nature of this society completely revealed, when we find that the students are clones, living as normal humans until their organs are needed.

Fortunately, the story never directly questions societal ethics of ...more Set in a late 1990s England, Ishiguro places us in an uncomfortably realistic, sci-fi scenario where cloning is normative and routine. We follow the lives of Kathy, Ruth, and Tommy, students at Hailsham, a picturesque boarding school. Only about halfway into the novel is the nature of this society completely revealed, when we find that the students are clones, living as normal humans until their organs are needed.

Fortunately, the story never directly questions societal ethics of cloning. Doing so, even slightly, would have changed the tone to a political bent, shredding the tender story. And although he doesn't question cloning, he does, however, lead the reader to an underlying answer while maintaining a tight reign over the actual storyline.

Ishiguro broaches many topics, such as societal detachment and the struggle of a minority class, but its his focus on the aching to belong, an experience that, I venture to guess, most people feel or have felt at some point, that gives us real emotions filtered, only mildly, through prose.

Kathy is one of few students raised at Hailsham, where the caretakers focus on creative outlets; we discover later that the art is being preserved as possible evidence of students' humanity. Oddly enough, the caretakers miss the student's self awareness and emotional maturations, arguably the most human of all traits.

Through Kathy H., we see that the students are capable of ranging emotions, from sadness and forgiveness to lust and curiosity. She excels as a "carer" because she interacts with the dying on a personal level, interprets their moods, and calms them. As a human-like force, she doesn't embrace the horrific outcome of her life and list towards death like many of her peers, she focuses on her friends, repairing old mistakes and forming stronger bonds.

In spite of the sci-fi setting, the unique traits of Ishiguro's narratives, such as a languorous flow and inherent subtlety, allow him to slip rather significant items into the story without any grandiose epiphanies. You feel as though you're like sitting with a friend, listening to recalled events, some familiar and some new.

After reading the last chapter, I honestly didn't know how to feel. Tapped out emotionally, I just desperately needed a hug. It's a rare occasion that instead of reading a novel, I experience it; a testament to Ishiguro's skill in crafting a story, not just words.
(less)

Like this review? yes (9 people liked it)

add a comment

06/16/08

Krenzel rated it:

(review of isbn 1400043395)

bookshelves: 1001, ala-notables

Read in June, 2008

In "Never Let Me Go," a fictional story focusing on three classmates from a unique boarding school, author Kazuo Ishiguro deals with questions of loss and mortality that each of must eventually confront. As we get older, as we lose our friends and family, as the environment around us changes and things once familiar to us disappear or become unfamiliar, as we cling to our memories of how things used to be, how do we come to accept the fact that our lives are finite and attach some mea...more In "Never Let Me Go," a fictional story focusing on three classmates from a unique boarding school, author Kazuo Ishiguro deals with questions of loss and mortality that each of must eventually confront. As we get older, as we lose our friends and family, as the environment around us changes and things once familiar to us disappear or become unfamiliar, as we cling to our memories of how things used to be, how do we come to accept the fact that our lives are finite and attach some meaning to our limited existence? These are questions that the narrator of "Never Let Me Go," Kathy H. copes with as she recounts the disjointed memories that comprise her life. Sorting through these memories, she finds comfort in her friends and her career, eventually coming to terms with the meaning of her life and her ultimate fate.

Reflecting upon her life, Kathy devotes most of her time to thinking about her friends from Hailsham, a secluded boarding school where she grew up. Because contact with outsiders at Hailsham is limited, one of the school’s big events is the quarterly Exchange, where students are given tokens they can use to buy other students’ artwork. As this is the students’ only way of accumulating material possessions, they grow dependent on each other for their "personal treasures" and learn to value others’ work, forging unique bonds with one another. Kathy’s two best friends are Ruth, an extroverted leader at the school, and Tommy, a shy introvert who gets bullied due to his lack of creativity and inability to produce substantial work. While they depend on each other throughout their time at Hailsham, like a lot of friends they drift apart after leaving the school. Looking back at the petty argument that led to the group’s break, Kathy comments, "It never occurred to me that our lives, until then so closely interwoven, could unravel and separate over a thing like that." Kathy regrets the loss of her friends, but doesn’t do anything about it until she hears that Hailsham is closing: "[I]t started to dawn on me, I suppose, that a lot of things I’d always assumed I’d plenty of time to get around to doing, I might now have to act on pretty soon or else let them go forever." Realizing that her time is limited, Kathy decides what is important to her – what she doesn’t want to let go of – and reconnects with her old friends, Ruth and Tommy.

In addition to her friends, Kathy’s career has a special meaning in her life. Kathy begins the book by identifying herself as a "carer." Although a lot of carers "are just going through the motions waiting for the day they’re told to stop," Kathy enjoys her work, the long drives and the solitude, and she knows she is good at what she does. As a carer, she helps look after patients, assisting as they recover from "donations" and keeping them calm. She knows that she is a good carer, which is important to her: "[I]t means a lot to me, being able to do my work well." However, when she becomes Tommy’s carer, he questions the meaning of her work, asking her if she really considers her job to be important since all of her patients are going to "complete," or die, anyway. Kathy responds, "Of course, it’s important. A good carer makes a big difference." When reflecting upon her life, Kathy decides not only that her friends are important to her, but she also considers her job important, believing she makes a difference by helping others.

However, as the book begins, Kathy only has eight months left as a carer, and then she will begin the last phase of her life. Initially, Kathy does not accept this fate, hoping to get a "deferral." When the headmaster of Hailsham tells her a deferral is not possible – Kathy cannot escape her ultimate fate any more than the rest of us can – Kathy wonders what the purpose of her life has been: "Why did we do all of that work in the first place? Why train us, encourage us, make us produce all of that? If we’re just going to give donations anyway, then die, why all those lessons? Why all those books and discussions?" In fact, one of the Hailsham teachers, Miss Lucy, had made this same argument when they were children, believing it was more important that they know their ultimate fate than worry about creating artwork and developing their sense of culture: "If you’re to have decent lives, you have to know who you are and what lies ahead of you." But this is not true, the Hailsham headmaster counters, addressing Kathy and Tommy: "Look at you both now! I’m so proud to see you both. You built your lives on what we gave you. You wouldn’t be who you are today if we’d not protected you." Ultimately, Kathy comes to agree with the Hailsham approach. When she meets a patient who did not go to Hailsham, but wants to hear all about her time there so that he can replace his own memories with Kathy’s, Kathy realizes "just how lucky we’d been." Without being warned what lay ahead – as Miss Lucy had wanted – Kathy had been free to live her own life; even if it was messy, it was hers. As the novel concludes, Kathy drives to Norfolk, where she had shared her happiest memories with Tommy: "I imagined this was the spot where everything I’d ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was standing in front of it." Instead of hanging on to those things and people she has lost, Kathy realizes that this is as far as her fantasy can go: "I just waited a bit, then turned back to the car, and drove off to wherever it was I was supposed to be." Like most of us, Kathy knows her life is limited, and the best we can do is go about our everyday lives, doing what we are supposed to do. She will never let go of her memories of what she has lost, but she has accepted her fate.

Though her life hasn’t been perfect, Kathy, reflecting upon her memories, finds that her life has been meaningful – having had close friends, an important job, and an idyllic childhood, she considers herself "lucky." But has she, in fact, led a decent life? Has her life been purposeful and meaningful? These are universal questions we may all ask of ourselves – how to accept our own mortality and assign purpose to the limited life we have been given. However, these big questions of how to deal with loss and mortality also become a source of frustration and disappointment for readers because, while "Never Let Me Go" builds these questions up, it never seems to fully resolve or answer them. Fortunately, though, it does provide some clues. One of the recurring items of the book relates to a song Kathy plays as a child called "Never Let Me Go." What makes the song special for Kathy is that she assigns her own meaning to the lyrics; instead of listening to the actual words, she imagines her own version of the song: "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." At one point, when Kathy is dancing to the song in her mind, Madame, a Hailsham leader, catches her and starts sobbing. Later Madame confesses that, when she saw Kathy that day, she imagined Kathy was holding onto the old world, a "kind world," which was being replaced by a "harsh, cruel world," but now Madame realizes her interpretation was wrong: "It wasn’t really you, what you were doing." Soon after Madame catches her playing the tape, the tape is lost, her friend Ruth tries to replace it, and later, with Tommy’s help, Kathy finds another copy of the tape. The symbolic implications are clear: just as she assigns her own meaning to the song, Kathy assigns her own meaning to life. Sometimes she may be lost, sometimes others like Tommy may help her, and sometimes others like Madame may assign a different meaning to her life than she does, but Kathy is the final author of her life. While others may deem her life meaningless, she herself is content, if not happy. "Never Let Me Go" may not provide a universal answer for some of the big questions it poses about loss and mortality, but the ultimate message seems to be one of hope: as the authors of our own lives, it is up to each of us to take what we are given and make the most of it.
(less)

Like this review? yes (8 people liked it)

1 comment

10/01/07

Louis rated it:

(review of isbn 1400043395)

bookshelves: bookclub, sciencefiction

Read in January, 2005

The book was written in 2005, and opens in Britain, late-1990s. It starts out in a co-ed boarding school following the story of Kathy, a young student. At this point she and her close friends are essentially early high school age. It is a very closed school, where liberties are very sparse and minimal contact with the outside world. The students are often reminded how special they are, and how important it is that they take care of their bodies. Their lives revolve around their classmates and th...more The book was written in 2005, and opens in Britain, late-1990s. It starts out in a co-ed boarding school following the story of Kathy, a young student. At this point she and her close friends are essentially early high school age. It is a very closed school, where liberties are very sparse and minimal contact with the outside world. The students are often reminded how special they are, and how important it is that they take care of their bodies. Their lives revolve around their classmates and the staff, whom they know as guardians. Another of the centers of their lives are the donations, where the students can put up things they have created for exchange for tokens. The highest praise comes from art works that are selected for the Gallary by the Madame.

The book takes Kathy and their friends through school, then to the next stage of their lives, the Cottages. From here is you find out they are preparing for the real world, and to be carers then donors. And as the book goes on, through little hints throughout the book, it dawns on the reader that these children are all clones (not of each other, but of someone on the outside), and they were bred to be organ donors. From the cottages, they are sent out to organ donor centers throughout the countryside. During the time they are donors (usually three, sometimes four times before they are 'completed'. After the fourth time, with that many organs removed, they are kept under, and any other organs possible are also removed) they are under the watch of 'carers' who provide personal care, usually friendship and companionship much like counseling. Carers tend to be other clones, who spend time as carers before becoming donors themselves.

The school was part of a grand debate. And it was this, were the clones really human? These clones were created to give healing to people with otherwise incurable diseases, cancer, heart disease, neurological diseases; through their organs. And it was easier to forget that these organs came from someone. And easier to think that these sources were not really human. While some of the clone centers were much like factories a la The Matrix or Brave New World, this school was set with the premise that these clones could have real childhoods. And the Gallery was that, works of art that could be shown to people of influence, to demonstrate these children had souls. Not to determine if the children were in love, but to show they were human, even if their end was to be sources of human organs. But as Kathy and her friends were growing up, there was a scandal, and the battle was lost, and her school and others like it closed, with only the more factory-like places left to raise future generations of clones. And Kathy finds the Madame and one of the other guardians, lonely and defeated in this battle, with society deciding that the clone children were not truly human, that the clones were only incubators for their organs. They (Kathy and friends) hear the story, and Kathy and her friends go on their way. Kathy's friend goes in for his fourth donation, and is 'completed.' And at the end Kathy is thinking of all the friends who have gone, and the school. And a life that in the end, has no future.

It is a completely different perspective on the question of what it means to be human, of the hopes and fears of the cloning debate, and medical ethics in general. Not from an abstract philosophical perspective, but a life of one who is grows up thinking that this is proper and right future, to be harvested for her organs and nothing more. Fascinating reading even as it is disturbing. (less)

Like this review? yes (6 people liked it)

add a comment

07/03/08

Stephen rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

bookshelves: fiction, overrated

Read in June, 2008

A major disappointment. Ishiguro starts with an interesting premise but makes very little out of it, and ends up with a limp, unsatisfying story.

Some of the positive reviews about this book seem a little strained -- we're supposed to reflect on the similarity of our own "doomed" lives to those of the clones. But it doesn't really wash. There's never a sense that any of the characters are struggling with the dead-serious issues that make life worth living; they're herded fr...more

Like this review? yes (5 people liked it)

1 comment

12/01/07

Rose added it (review of isbn 1400078776)

bookshelves: 2008

Read in April, 2008

This book certainly made me think, but perhaps not quite as I was intended to. I like my fiction in line with Philip Pullman's view of things:

"...If I'm reading something I happen to know and gets it wrong, I just don't trust the book any more. What I ask of a novel I'm reading is that it should know a fraction more about the things I know than I do. When I'm writing...I ask myself: would I be convinced by this if I read it? If I knocked against this bit of scenery, would it fee...more This book certainly made me think, but perhaps not quite as I was intended to. I like my fiction in line with Philip Pullman's view of things:

"...If I'm reading something I happen to know and gets it wrong, I just don't trust the book any more. What I ask of a novel I'm reading is that it should know a fraction more about the things I know than I do. When I'm writing...I ask myself: would I be convinced by this if I read it? If I knocked against this bit of scenery, would it feel solid?"

Unfortunately, "Never Let Me Go" failed me on this front. For example, what were the four organs they were capable of donating? Why didn't they stick everyone on life support after the fourth donation so they could keep on harvesting? Why did they clone random lowlifes to get the organ donors, rather than considering tissue types (for example, cloning from people with the most common tissue types)? Why did the organ donation follow a fixed pattern? - For example, if someone needed the heart of a particular clone, did they have to wait until the clone had been through the previous rounds of donations? (It didn't seem like they could have an absolutely essential organ taken at the first few donations, because they always seemed a bit surprised when donors completed before their 4th time). Why didn't they maximise use of the clones by taking other bits, like using them as blood donors? Why did they think art was the only thing that could show the clones had souls? (I'd have thought it would be much more effective to, say, get clones to talk to people). Why did they list diseases that could be cured thanks to having clones, such as motor neurone disease and cancer, which I really can't see organ transplants curing?

I know that some find Kathy's obsession with mulling over the smallest detail at great length to be meaningful and a beautifully drawn consideration of the details of social interactions. For me, though, that was just boring, and the writing style was far too self-consciously "a girl relating her story as if to another person", as a result of too many uses of "as I say", "I don't know how it was where you were", and similar phrases.

However, I did like the ruthless contrast between Kathy's minute dissection of the smallest social interaction and her complete lack of introspection about her life and her fate. The characters' acceptance of what lies in store for them is chilling, and in some way both hard and all too easy to imagine. I would just have liked it if a little more thought had been given to believably fleshing out the world the clones lived in.(less)

Like this review? yes (6 people liked it)

add a comment

01/23/08

Shannon rated it:

(review of isbn 0676977111)

bookshelves: 2008, book-club, dystopian, fiction

Read in March, 2008

It's very important, if you're intending to read this book, that you don't read any reviews or listen to any talk about it first. I had no idea what this book was about before I read it - and the blurb gives you a very different impression, actually - and so I slipped easily into a story that was as engrossing as it was revealing.

If you know something about what to expect, though, I don't think you'll enjoy it nearly as much. It's a bit like an art installation that requires audience...more

Like this review? yes (10 people liked it)

4 comments

09/30/07

Jennifer rated it:

(review of isbn 1400043395)

bookshelves: fiction

Read in October, 2007

The question that underlies the premise and the action of this book has always seemed to me a stupid and irrelevant one: If we were to clone human beings, would the clones have souls? My thinking isn't ecclesiastical, but Ishiguro bases his story on the assumption that most people's thinking is, and thus that if there were cloned human beings, that would be a matter of debate. Because the backbone of the story is made out of jelly, at least for me, it made reading this book much less enjoyable t...more The question that underlies the premise and the action of this book has always seemed to me a stupid and irrelevant one: If we were to clone human beings, would the clones have souls? My thinking isn't ecclesiastical, but Ishiguro bases his story on the assumption that most people's thinking is, and thus that if there were cloned human beings, that would be a matter of debate. Because the backbone of the story is made out of jelly, at least for me, it made reading this book much less enjoyable than I'd hoped.

The narrative style is simple and casual. The first-person narrator's entire education has been an artistic one with a heavy emphasis on "being creative," but she seems to have no pretenses of a literary "style," which I find interesting, and though not entirely unwelcome, at times the struggle of the author, his desire not to be weighty in his style, is perceptible and becomes wearying. (I found the narrator a bit too much like Offred of Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale at first, too.)

The naïveté of the characters is at times painful; having grown up outside of society, they earnestly pursue something that the reader, more sophisticated and jaded, perceives as obviously untrue. Throughout the book, under the curiosity and hopes, there is a kind of resignation that I found off-putting. I suppose I have a brash, American point of view, wanting people to struggle harder against what others have deemed their destinies. I'm ashamed of that because it means that I prefer the treatment of this premise in Michael Bay's film "The Island" (though not the execution of that premise) to Kazuo Ishiguro's, but, there, I've said it. I find it interesting that in "The Island," which is set in the U.S., getting organs from a clone is a matter of privilege, while in Never Let Me Go it seems to be part of their national health care program. This difference in the way I think as an American and the very British treatment of the subject matter was apparent to me throughout.

That said, as a contemplative rather than active work, this book is mildly enjoyable.(less)

Like this review? yes (4 people liked it)

1 comment

06/24/08

Baiocco added it (review of isbn 1400078776)

bookshelves: fiction

I was really looking forward to this novel when it was recommended to me by a coworker who so far has had pretty a practically flawless record of recommendations concerning books, plays, music, wine, restaurants, or train schedule times and routes but The New York Times ruined Never Let Me Go for me. While someone in the Arts section was attempting to review the book 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die (why would you review that? its only one and a half steps up the officiality ladder from...more

Like this review? yes (3 people liked it)

add a comment

06/09/08

Eric rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

Read in June, 2008

recommends it for: People with plane and cab/bus rides in their future

A quick read, but one I never felt very enthusiastic towards. I remembered reading "The Remains of the Day" in high school, and thought another of Ichiguro's books would be equally gripping. Not quite so with "Never".
One great thing about "Never" is that, like it or not, it's over quickly. There are just enough hooks thrown in to keep the pages going, and Ichiguro's style is straightforward and rarely makes you double back on a line. Outside of a few British p...more A quick read, but one I never felt very enthusiastic towards. I remembered reading "The Remains of the Day" in high school, and thought another of Ichiguro's books would be equally gripping. Not quite so with "Never".
One great thing about "Never" is that, like it or not, it's over quickly. There are just enough hooks thrown in to keep the pages going, and Ichiguro's style is straightforward and rarely makes you double back on a line. Outside of a few British phrases you get it, you go, you move on with things. Not much really gives you pause... and therein starts to lie the heart of my issues with the book.
For a book that's chiefly character-driven, I didn't feel pulled in by them. And even though you're not supposed to care about the characters because of what they are (not to give anything away), how does that help get you through the book? I didn't dislike the characters because I failed to buy into the theme, I disliked them because they seemed flat. There is a lack of engrossing exposition or dialog among and between the characters. They're individuals, they have personalities, by the textbook definition, but I didn't cling to anyone. So many of the things- like Ruth's antics or Tommy's imbecility, felt forced. I cringed more than I put the book down to think, "How am I the same or different from that person?" The ONE thing they may have more than any other creature on the planet is hopelessness, and when a character is overwhelmed by it is only a passing ancillary person. A complete meltdown as hope died would have been heartrending, but everyone keeps their stiff upper lip (the muddy tantrum didn't cut it. They're socialized, they grew up together, they know how to express themselves in a way that ought to touch us.)
There are moments, like their search for a "possible" as a way to give meaning to their lives, that give the characters depth. That tugged at the heartstrings some. Unfortunately none of the characters seem capable of bearing a heavy emotional load. They're children through most of the story, but children can handle and delve into weighty subjects too. Their uniquely innocent perspective often makes it punishing to read them grappling with things. I looked hard for that in "Never", but I guess it was hiding in a dusty bin somewhere in Norfolk. Kathy H. is the center of the book, but not the narrator. As an adult looking back she could have had endlessly amazing reflections on things. I would love to have really plumbed the depths of her introspection. How many horrible things did she witness and help people patiently sit through, and yet, that's all we get from her? Wow. Sure, they are emotionally and mentally deprived in a special environment for specific reasons, but they are exposed to art and knowledge from ALL times and places. And then they are allowed to roam free, buuuutttt nothing *ever* snaps, in any of them? Come on now. Revolutions, wars, genocide, massacres, and other fun and exciting pastimes of humanity have been sparked with the mere spread of an idea. Are we to believe the characters hold THAT steadfastly to their functions and personalities? I kept waiting for one to go absolutely bonkers. That would have been entertaining and heartening to read, and revived my suspension of disbelief.
I think in this case you have an idea that throws open a veritable Pandora's box of philosophical, sociological, medical, interpersonal, and psychological issues packaged in a novel that's a quick and light read with forcefully stunted characters. The two may be irreconcilable. Psh- may? At least, that was the impression "Never" left in my mind. There are some symbols and themes, but like the issue of sex, many times I saw them as sort of thrown out there and somewhat indelicately handled. I wanted to love "Never"- really. Rather than going on anymore about it, I'm letting this book go.(less)

Like this review? yes (3 people liked it)

add a comment

05/24/08

Howard rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

(SPOILER ALERT! This book has one major “Crying Game”/ “Sixth Sense”-style secret that I will discuss below. If you are going to read this book, and don’t want me to ruin it for you, don’t read this post. Then again, everybody seems to “know” the secret without reading it, so … well, consider yourself warned)

At first glance this book would seem to be a departure for KI. Some might want to call this his attempt at science fiction, except it’s set in the late 1990�...more (SPOILER ALERT! This book has one major “Crying Game”/ “Sixth Sense”-style secret that I will discuss below. If you are going to read this book, and don’t want me to ruin it for you, don’t read this post. Then again, everybody seems to “know” the secret without reading it, so … well, consider yourself warned)

At first glance this book would seem to be a departure for KI. Some might want to call this his attempt at science fiction, except it’s set in the late 1990’s, and refers to events that appear to have occurred in the early 1980’s. Call it KI’s look at a dystopian alternate reality. It also has elements of gothic horror, as well as a Crighton-esque portrait of a world where scientific advancement has led to the loss of mankind’s moral bearings.

Despite these differences, this book is still very much within the KI style. The story is largely told in flashbacks, as the narrator looks back and reconstructs her life. The recapture of memory, the simultaneous unreliability of memory, and the struggle to grapple with a troubled past; these are classic KI themes. This book fits comfortably in KI’s oeuvre.

The narrator is a young woman who works as a “carer.” The job description remains vague for most of the book, but it is clear that she acts as a sort of psychotherapist for organ donors. One of her donors is an old schoolmate, which leads the narrator to recall her days at a boarding school called Hailsham. The first part of the book is made up of her childhood memories of school, and much of this part is a conventional tale of British schools days. But, like in “Harry Potter,” it becomes clear that this is not an ordinary school. For one thing, the children don’t have parents, or even last names. They seem to have been born there and understand that they will leave at 18. Even at 18, the children are still childish (for a while I thought the kids might be retarded). As the narrative moves forward, KI hints that the kids are actually objects of pity and horror for the adults who care for them. This part of the book – equal parts bucolic childhood and grim foreboding – is KI at his best, as he increases the mystery of the children’s origins and purpose.

All is revealed when the children leave school and they learn that they are clones, bred to donate their organs to “real” humans. Incredibly, the children do not rebel at this. Instead, they accept it as their lot in life (KI might be making a subtle comment on the British class system, but he doesn’t develop this too much). The kids grow into young adults who are expected to first be carers and then donors. One by one the characters in the book begin to die off as the relentless program of donations moves forward.

Now, at this point, I think a lot of readers would throw down this book and say, “gimme a break!” I did not. KI doesn’t sensationalize this material. His tone and dialogue is as calm and reflective as in “The Remains of the Day.” He explores, subtly, the question of whether these clones have souls. The society that has bred them seems to think they do not (no doubt this helps donees to rationalize the donation process). The children have rudimentary sorts of artistic and intellectual skills. Their relationships are rudimentary as well. But souls? Yes, in a basic form. KI considers this question in a manner that is thoughtful, and occasionally profound. All the while, he also keeps the reader in a state of suspense and dread, as the doomed clones wander aimlessly through their short stunted lives.

This sort of book always leaves itself vulnerable to all sorts of practical objections. KI wisely doesn’t dwell much on the science or technology behind the cloning. He also doesn’t say much about the “donation” procedures, except to say that they gradually wear down the clones and finally kill them, leaving them prepped for one final harvest. In KI’s world, the clones are expected to endure 4 donations, but KI says very little about what is donated at each step. The clones remain ambulatory until the last donation, so one wonders what is being taken in the first three. Kidneys? Corneas? Blood Vessels? A lung? I would have liked to know more, but that’s probably just me.

A more glaring hole is KI’s failure to include much interaction with “regular” humans. As adults, the clones are permitted to live and travel throughout England. At school they are taught how to interact in the outside world. Most tantalizingly, they are taught that humans with whom they have sex will experience an emotional as well as physical attachment to their lovers, while clones will only experience the physical side. This would seem to be a perfect avenue to explore the human/clone divide, but KI leaves it hanging. If the question is whether the clones have souls, then their reaction to a human intimacy would be a profound test. Instead, KI keeps his relationships within the small clique of Hailsham clones. I would call this the great missed opportunity in the book.

Overall, though, this is still a great KI novel. Despite it’s slow pace, and disturbing material, it’s compulsively readable. I finished it in one day, and there was never a point when I felt bored. KI’s exploration of the ethical dimensions of human cloning, and organ donations, is worthwhile. Usually, cloning debates quickly devolve into quackery, pseudo-science, and then someone yells “Hitler!” KI never falls into this, but instead raises the moral dilemmas that cloning proponents would just as soon not have to answer. This is an author who doesn’t write all that much (one novel every 5 years), so he should be commended for exploring a subject that is more talked-about than discussed.
(less)

Like this review? yes (3 people liked it)

1 comment

03/31/08

Kirstie rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

Read in March, 2008

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here.

I can't write this review without spoilers...sorry. If you keep reading, you will be spoiled... (like a bad cheese!)

Ok...this book is incredibly creepy and it's really hard to imagine it was written by the same author who wrote The Remains of the Day. Anyhow, taking place in rural England, it's written from the first person female perspective of a woman looking back on her life. At first, we sense something is subtly wrong with the equation because we feel like information is mi...more I can't write this review without spoilers...sorry. If you keep reading, you will be spoiled... (like a bad cheese!)

Ok...this book is incredibly creepy and it's really hard to imagine it was written by the same author who wrote The Remains of the Day. Anyhow, taking place in rural England, it's written from the first person female perspective of a woman looking back on her life. At first, we sense something is subtly wrong with the equation because we feel like information is missing and the terms used-donor, carer...seem odd. At the same time, I thought maybe it was just a British thing for awhile.

The premise is that these kids are really clones who are raised to be organ donors. In most of these kinds of facilities in England, the conditions are deplorable but at their particular boarding school, they are raised in a sort of ignorant bliss for most of their childhoods. They are allowed, so to speak, to grow up as normally as one can without a mother or father. Just as the reader learns more in very slow increments, we begin to learn more and more. But it isn't until over halfway through the book that we realize the full extent of it.

It's funny how even though Ishiguro doesn't get into the organ donations and the specifics, this still created quite a visceral reaction in me...just to think of these kids (who are really also clones) growing up to be harvested...it made me so nauseous and faint. There were portions of this book I could only read about 8 pages at once. It just affected me so much. And when I finished it, I actually cried while at the same time reminding myself that it was just fiction.

I will say one of the major flaws of the book is the lack of information. You can explain some of it by the fact that it's written from the perspective of one of the clones but there really is no explanation of what exact time frame this is or how these clone organ harvesting facilities came to be. You could easily think this isn't happening too far in the future and it isn't written like your standard science fiction book at all. At the same time, the few cultural references provided already seem outdated. It's possible that the boarding schools (or rural England in and of itself) is stuck in a sort of time warp. The other thing is that a war is briefly alluded to but it's not fully explained why all of a sudden clone organ harvesting becomes so high in demand that the British government would be turning out so many .

Then, at the end of the book we become aware of debates about whether the clones have souls or not...That makes it feel predictable but, even though the clones are scared, they never try to run away or revolt as is typical for most plots evolving them. They completely accept their fate as clones.

So...all in all it provides some interesting ideas...what if our society does develop in this manner...and cloning becomes widespread and this occurs...I'd have to be against that, myself but mainly because I read this book and feel bad for the main character, who is of course a clone...it's a work of fiction I'll keep telling myself this!
(less)

Like this review? yes (3 people liked it)

add a comment

05/30/07

Nicole rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

The best and most moving novel of the last few years.

I thought Wood was spot-on in his review:

...For it is most powerful when most allegorical, and its allegorical power has to do with its picture of ordinary human life as in fact a culture of death. That is to say, Ishiguro's book is at its best when, by asking us to consider the futility of cloned lives, it forces us to consider the futility of our own. This is the moment at which Kathy's appeal to us — "I don'...more

Like this review? yes (3 people liked it)

add a comment

12/29/07

Randomanthony rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

bookshelves: not-so-hot

Eh. I thought this book was overrated. Did it really deserve the accolades? I'm not sure the book ever transcended science fiction blockbuster storytelling. Maybe my hopes were too high, but I didn't find much substance amongst the hype.

Like this review? yes (4 people liked it)

5 comments

11/16/08

Bonnie rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

bookshelves: reviewed-books

I read this when it came out, but had forgotten until it was recently recommended by a member of a book club.

I remember thinking of this book as brilliantly crafted, but "disturbing". Gripping, though, definitely gripping.

Like this review? yes (3 people liked it)

add a comment

10/25/08

Nathan rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

Read in October, 2008

A sort of science fiction and mystery hybrid, Never Let Me Go portrays a dystopian future in which medical advances have taken precedence over ethics. The narrator, Kathy H., is a caregiver whose idyllic memories of her schooldays at Hailsham hint at a darker, more terrible story that she seems reluctant to acknowledge. As Kathy slowly recalls the details of her experiences at Hailsham, though, it becomes clear that she and her classmates are treated differently from everyone else--and their pri...more A sort of science fiction and mystery hybrid, Never Let Me Go portrays a dystopian future in which medical advances have taken precedence over ethics. The narrator, Kathy H., is a caregiver whose idyllic memories of her schooldays at Hailsham hint at a darker, more terrible story that she seems reluctant to acknowledge. As Kathy slowly recalls the details of her experiences at Hailsham, though, it becomes clear that she and her classmates are treated differently from everyone else--and their pride and nostalgia in their Hailsham heritage mask an underlying fear at having to accept the tremendous burden of their difference.

Another author might have simply told this story chronologically, but Ishiguro's masterful use of memory gives the novel an added gravity and momentum. Like many of Ishiguro's narrators, Kathy H. has an imperfect memory--when she first describes an incident, she often can't remember when precisely it happened, who was there, or why it was significant. As the story progresses, though, she returns to her incomplete memories, filling in forgotten details to provide context and importance. As a result, even seemingly innocent memories carry troubling undertones, and you're never sure if Kathy really doesn't remember what happened or if she's just too afraid to admit it.

Ishiguro is just so good at using memory in his stories--reading Kathy's description of something that happened at Hailsham, I often felt as though I was just about to figure out an important piece of the puzzle, only to discovery that her memory was just fuzzy enough to leave me with more questions than I had before. In a way, the novel reminds me of a sort of literary Memento--but with more gravity and a much darker, more terrible center. Through her incremental and uncertain memories of Hailsham, Kathy provides the details of her life at a measured, almost reluctant, pace, carefully unraveling the bandages of her past to expose the delicate, wounded heart of her story.

Other than admiring Ishiguro's writing style, I can't really say too much about this novel without giving away more of the plot than I'd like to, but I will say that the way Ishiguro deals with otherness in this story--the way the Hailsham kids come to understand and quietly, shyly accept their roles, almost as if they feel they deserve a sort of punishment just for being who they are--is heartbreaking.

I really enjoyed Never Let Me Go. The skill with which Ishiguro gradually reveals his characters' fates, and the care with which he presents their struggles to understand those fates, make this a thoughtful and exciting read. Easy to get into and hard to put down.

4.4/5(less)

Like this review? yes (2 people liked it)

add a comment

08/20/08

Philip rated it:

(review of isbn 1400078776)

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro is a compelling portrait of people on the downside of a dystopia. Like Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale or J G Ballard’s Kingdom come, Never Let me Go is built around an abhorrent aspect of social organisation. Crucially, in all three books, the focus of the subject matter is merely an extension of a facet of our own society. Fertility issues provide the material for The Handmaid’s Tale, while brainless consumerism fuelled Kingdom Come. Kazuo Ishigu...more Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro is a compelling portrait of people on the downside of a dystopia. Like Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale or J G Ballard’s Kingdom come, Never Let me Go is built around an abhorrent aspect of social organisation. Crucially, in all three books, the focus of the subject matter is merely an extension of a facet of our own society. Fertility issues provide the material for The Handmaid’s Tale, while brainless consumerism fuelled Kingdom Come. Kazuo Ishiguro’s subject matter has a medical focus that provides an essentially more credible idea than either of the two other works mentioned. Eventually Ballard’s vision cannot be maintained by his scant material, whereas Margaret Atwood’s is strengthened by the credibility of its own downside. Ishiguro’s story line is strong enough in itself to maintain interest, credibility and drama from start to finish. There is real humanity in this story.

The book begins in Hailsham, an obviously special school set in an idyllic corner of the English countryside. But this is clearly no ordinary education. We follow the fortunes of three of its students, Kathy, Ruth and Tommy. We see them grow up, make their fumbling transformation from childhood to adolescence and then embark upon the stuttering unpredictability of young adulthood. Hailsham’s students have to learn how to deal with their own shortcomings and how to manage their talents. They must cope with sometimes strained relations with their teachers, especially in the area of reconciling what they want to do versus what seems to be demanded of them, and thus what they are allowed to attempt. They become aware of sex and introduce themselves to its world in their own ways at different times, each of them reacting differently to their experience.

So what makes these people so special? Well, for a start they live protected lives. They never appear to need any money, nor possessions, for that matter, what little they do have being recycled ad infinitum via a system of almost formal barter. They seem to be protected from fashion, consumerism, family break-up, mass media and even street life. Surely there is something strange about them, despite their apparently normal physical, mental and psychological characteristics.

Not until about half way through the book does the reader start to fill in the blanks. But by the end the dreadful picture is complete, and rendered even more frightening by its complete credibility. To find out the nature of the plot, you will have to read the book, but, though I have stressed the importance of the overall concept’s contribution to the book’s success, it is not the subject matter that makes this a superb novel. It is the characterisation, the empathy that the reader develops with Kathy and Tommy and the sympathy that their tragedy eventually engenders. The context served to amplify these responses, not blur or confuse them. It is this quality that makes never Let Me Go a completely memorable and highly moving read.

(less)

Like this review? yes (2 people liked it)

add a comment