The Buried Giant

by Kazuo Ishiguro

It’s queer the way the world’s forgetting people and things from only yesterday and the day before that. Like a sickness come over us all.’

“How will you and your husband prove your love for each other when you can’t remember the past you’ve shared?”

I wonder if what we feel in our hearts today isn’t like these raindrops still falling on us from the soaked leaves above, even though the sky itself long stopped raining. I’m wondering if without our memories, there’s nothing for it but for our love to fade and die.’

The stranger thought it might be God himself had forgotten much from our pasts, events far distant, events of the same day. And if a thing is not in God’s mind, then what chance of it remaining in those of mortal men?’

‘What use is a god with boundless mercy, sir? You mock me as a pagan, yet the gods of my ancestors pronounce clearly their ways and punish severely when we break their laws. Your Christian god of mercy gives men licence to pursue their greed, their lust for land and blood, knowing a few prayers and a little penance will bring forgiveness and blessing.’

‘Yet are you so certain, good mistress, you wish to be free of this mist? Is it not better some things remain hidden from our minds?’

When the hour’s too late for rescue, it’s still early enough for revenge.

Who knows what will come when quick-tongued men make ancient grievances rhyme with fresh desire for land and conquest?’

‘The giant, once well buried, now stirs. When soon he rises, as surely he will, the friendly bonds between us will prove as knots young girls make with the stems of small flowers.

But God will know the slow tread of an old couple’s love for each other, and understand how black shadows make part of its whole.’

Could it be our love would never have grown so strong down the years had the mist not robbed us the way it did? Perhaps it allowed old wounds to heal.’