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.

The thing I enjoy most about Ishiguro’s writing is the sheer level of depth he gets into his characters; he captures all the intensity of real emotions whether they are self-serving or destructive. His writing style is simple, plain even, but he builds up many layers within his storytelling to unleash the full symphony of conflicted feelings in powerful bursts.

However, I saw none of his brilliance here.

Indeed, for all his talent, I don’t think this novel was as effective as The Remains of the Day or even When We Were Orphans. For me. this is a lesser novel by a great writer.

This is his most popular work, and his most critically acclaimed, and I think that’s only because of the particular themes he explores here. This is science-fiction, but I prefer the term pseudo-science fiction. It’s slightly futuristic, but the fictional elements are relatively comparable to what man can do today. Vivisection transplant is nothing new. Organ donors are nothing new. This book is very similar to the movie “The Island” (2005) where a select group of people have special clones bred for the singular purpose of providing them with replacement body parts.

What I find interesting is how these two were released so close together. For me, such forms of artifice reflect the worries and concerns of that decade. Discussions over designer babies and animal rights issues (in regards to testing, transplants and cloning) were often in the media. If we look back to the Victorians, the elements in the literature reflected the concerns of the age. This is true for all literary movements; I just used this one for an example, but the point is I think this novel reflects an aspect of the time in which it was written. And for me that’s why I think it’s worthy of study, it's timely.

But did I enjoy it?

Not overly. Do I think it is a success artistically and dramatically? Not really. For me the novel continuously fails to deliver. The retrospective narrative remains detached from the happenings. Granted, the voice has lost all sense of hope and is looking back at a life of sorrow and incompleteness, but it just didn’t have a sense of life. You could say that’s because she is semi-human in the state imposed on her, but, for me, it was too despairing. And that’s coming from someone who counts Edgar Allan Poe amongst his favourite authors.

The inability of the characters to question the situation also somewhat puzzled me. Surely, they must have had some glimpses of thought that considered their present situation an injustice? There was a lack of inquisitiveness into the morality of the situation. And this, when paired with their complete failure of recognising their own feelings about each other, made the narrative feel slightly incomplete. They didn’t seem to look beyond their own situation. As a reader, we make our own judgement calls, but where were theirs? A certain emotional immaturity, that bordered on the absurd, ran through the work.

Overall, I can see why this book is so popular. But I don’t think it’s all that. Ishiguro’s other books are much more accomplished.

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I just...don't know how you take a book with a plotline as interesting and creepy and unique as this one and turn it into an unrelenting snoozefest, party of one.

When I hear "the best novel of the decade," I expect brilliance.

When I hear "now a major motion picture starring Carey Mulligan, Andrew Garfield, and Keira Knightley," I expect excitement.

When I hear "millions of copies sold, presumably, based on the number of Goodreads ratings there are," I expect memorable characters or writing or storytelling or SOMETHING.

But I got nothing.

I've put off writing this review for a month, which is kind of but not super unusual for me admittedly, because I do not remember a thing about it.

And not really because I have forgotten the whole thing, but more because...well, what's to remember?

Bottom line: If anyone is looking for a nice little one way getaway to snoozeville, I have the book for you!

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pre-review

yes, the ending of this made me sad, but at the same time and in a much more pressing way this is maybe one of the most boring books i've ever read.

review to come / 2ish stars

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tbr review

i will read:
1) every book that is called the best of the decade
2) every book that was then adapted into a movie starring carey mulligan OR keira knightley OR andrew garfield that i can watch.

so basically i'm reading this 4 times over.

(Book 1 From 1001 books) - Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

Never Let Me Go, is a 2005 dystopian science fiction novel, by Nobel Prize-winning British author Kazuo Ishiguro.

The story begins with Kathy, who describes herself as a carer, talking about looking after organ donors. She has been a carer for almost twelve years at the time of narration, and she often reminisces about her time spent at Hailsham, a boarding school in England, where the teachers are known as guardians.

Along with classes, they often emphasize the importance of being healthy to their students—smoking is considered to be taboo, almost on the level of a crime, and working in the vegetable garden is compulsory.

The curriculum appears to be like that of any other school, but there is great encouragement for the students to produce art. The art is then displayed in an exhibition, and the best artwork is chosen by a woman known to the students as Madame.

The students speculate that she keeps their work in a gallery. The story revolves around three Hailsham students: Kathy and two others, Ruth and Tommy, who develop a close but complicated friendship.

Kathy develops a fondness for Tommy, looking after him when he is bullied and having private talks with him. However, Ruth and Tommy begin a romantic relationship during their time at the school that continues when they leave. ...

هرگز رهایم مکن - کازوئو ایشی گورو (ققنوس) ادبیات؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش: نوزدهم فوریه سال 2012میلادی

عنوان: هرگز رهایم مکن؛ نویسنده: کازوئو ایشی گورو؛ مترجم: سهیل سمی؛ تهران، ققنوس، 1385، در 267ص؛ شابک 9643116271؛ چاپ دوم 1386؛ چاپ سوم 1389؛ شابک 9789643116279؛ موضوع: داستانهای نویسندگان بریتانیا - سده 20م

عنوان: هرگز رهایم مکن؛ نویسنده: کازوئو ایشی گورو؛ مترجم: فاطمه امینی؛ تهران، نوید ظهور، 1394، در 352ص؛ شابک 9786008008132؛

با آنکه عنوان کتاب عاشقانه است، اما داستان عاشقانه نیست، از عشق سخن میگوید، اما عاشقانه نیست؛ «کتی اچ.» سی و یک ساله داستان زندگیش را برای خوانشگر روایت می‌کند؛ «کتی»، «تامی» و «روت» دانش آموزان مدرسه ی شبانه ‌روزی نامعمولی به نام «هیلشم» هستند؛ در «هیلشم» دانش آموزان، به یادگیری و آفرینش هنرهایی همچون «نقاشی»، «سفال‌گری» و «کاردستی» می‌پردازن،د و بر سلامتی بچه ‌ها نظارت شدیدی اعمال می‌شود؛ همچنان‌که «کتی» داستان بزرگ شدن خود و دوستانش، عشق ناگفته ‌اش به «تامی»، و دوستی پر فراز و نشیبش با «روت» را پیش می‌برد، خوانشگر نیز به آهستگی، پی به حقیقت وجود بچه ‌ها می‌برد؛ این دانش آموزان «هیلشم» به گونه ای هستند، که متولد شده اند تا اعضای بدن خود را اهدا کنند، و به تدریج بمیرند؛ آنها پیش از اهدای عضو، مددکار میشوند؛ این اثر «ایشی گورو»، رمان تکان ‌دهنده ‌ای است، آکنده از احساس شکنندگی انسان معاصر، خاطرات به یادماندنی شخصیت‌هایی که رفته ‌رفته، به حقیقت دوران کودکی به ظاهر شاد، و نیز آینده خود پی می‌برند

نقل از آغاز داستان: (اسمم «کتی اچ.» است؛ سی و یک سال دارم، و بیش از یازده سال است که پرستارم؛ میدانم؛ یک عمرست؛ اما راستش، میخواهند هشت ماه دیگر هم ادامه بدهم، یعنی تا آخر سال؛ با این حساب میشود دوازده سال تمام؛ حالا میدانم که سابقه ی کار طولانی ام، ضروزتا به این معنا نیست که کارم از نظر آنها محشر است؛ پرستاران خیلی خوبی را میشناسم که در سه سال، عذرشان را خواسته اند؛ و دست کم یک پرستار را هم میشناسم، که به رغم بی مصرف بودن، چهارده سال آزگار به کارش ادامه داد؛ پس قصدم لاف زدن نیست، اما به هر حال حتم دارم که از کارم راضی بوده اند، و در کل، خودم هم همین طور -فکر میکنم-؛ بهبود بیمارانم، همیشه بیش از حد انتظار بوده؛ دوره ی نقاهتشان به نحو قابل ملاحظه ای کوتاه بوده، و تقریبا هیچ کدامشان ذیل گروه «پریشان»، دسته بندی نشده اند؛ حتی تا پیش از اهدایی چهارم.؛ شاید حالا دارم لاف میزنم؛ اما همین که میتوانم کارم را درست انجام دهم، برایم خیلی مهم است، بخصوص «خونسرد» نگاه داشتن بیمارانم؛ در مورد آنها نوعی شناخت غریزی پیدا کرده ام؛ میدانم چه موقع به سراغشان بروم، و تسلایشان دهم، چه موقع آنها را به حال خودشان -وا- بگذارم، چه وقت به گفتنی هاشان گوش بدهم، و چه موقع شانه بالا بیندازم، و بگویم تمامش کنند.)؛ پایان نخستین پاراگراف از متن ترجمه جناب «سهیل سمی»؛

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 13/06/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 13/05/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی

Originality? Functionality? Individuality? Community? Friendship? Love? Justice?

What is the defining feature of humanity? And who is entitled to that definition? Raising harrowing questions in a dystopian England, "Never Let Me Go" seems to be one of those highly divisive books that you either love or hate with a passion.

I loved it, every single word of it, from the beginning to completion.

To complete, a word that implies a special kind of duty and function in the strange alternative post-1945 society described through the eyes of a couple of friends and lovers, - to complete a life, what does it take? Are you a complete human being regardless of how you were conceived? Are you complete even if you share your DNA with somebody else, somebody with higher priorities, and a more privileged position? Are you complete even if your role in society is to serve as a convenient tool for others?

How much of you is shaped by your upbringing, the drilling of a rigid ideology fed to you in an omnipresent, omniscient education system, leaving no options but the ones decided upon by others? Are you complete even if you are moulded carefully to fulfill an external purpose?

When you complete the mission forced upon you, is the sum of your life what you gave to society, or what you secretly stole from it to keep for yourself?

For me, the answer is: you are a complete human being when you manage to see who you are, to reflect on it, and to make emotional and intellectual decisions based on your situation. If you think, see, feel and love, you are a complete human being, no matter what an oppressive, obscene and dehumanising society does to you on a larger scale.

If your thoughts and feelings are yours, and you are able to share them with other human beings, you are complete. In the positive sense of the word. When you complete, you will have lived. Maybe more than the people who fed on your body to add minutes and hours and days and months and years to their own privileged lives.

Never let go of your humanity!

This is definitely one of those stories you should go in blind and watch as things unravel slowly.

The writing had a nostalgic feeling to it which I'm sure is due to the fact that this story is a reexamination of Kathy's memories. Her memories are sometimes filled with the most mundane scenes but once you look at it as a whole, everything together paints an extraordinary picture.


Since this is my first Ishiguro book I'm not sure if this is his go-to style — but I love it! There was something also about the way Kathy narrated. Even though she is young (around 31 years old) she speaks like someone who has lived a full life, fondly recounting her past.

It made me feel nostalgic. Sometimes I'd find myself just sitting with this book looking back at my own childhood memories and remembering things I haven't thought of in a long time.

Tommy thought it possible the guardians had, throughout all our years at Hailsham, timed very carefully and deliberately everything they told us, so that we were always just too young to understand properly the latest piece of information. But of course we'd take it in at some level, so that before long all this stuff was there in our heads without us ever having examined it properly.

Even though this book is kind of a dystopian (not the usual, crumbling-buildings/end-of-human-race kind) , it felt so real. And the characters had complicated relationships that were reflected so well.

Once we find out more about Hailsham and the situation the characters are found in, it astounded me how accepting they were with of their lot in life.

I struggled to understand how calm they could be knowing the truth, because I felt angry on behalf of them. I felt how unfair they were being treated and even thinking about it now makes tears swim in my eyes.

This book is truly like nothing I've read before and I can be sure it will be one I think about for years to come.

Never Let Me Go was an intriguing read. I found it quite similar in literary style to some of Kazuo Ishiguro's other books that I have read previously (namely The Remains of the Day and Klara and the Sun). What most captivated me as a reader was how the plot instilled in me a burning curiosity to know how the story would turn out. Most of all I wanted to confirm my suspicions and inferences about various aspects of the story that Ishiguro artfully left unclear, to draw the reader in. As the story slowly builds he gradually peels back layer after layer of this cloak of uncertainty, which triggers questions that one hopes will be answered by the end of the narrative. Another aspect that kept me engaged is Ishiguro's fluid and smooth writing, which makes it easy to get through many chapters quickly.

Admittedly, the story is a bit of a slow burner. I took me about 75-80 pages to really get into it. Moreover, I must confess I never felt fully connected to the main character Kath, nor her close-knit inner circle of friends, Ruth and Tommy. There was a level of detachment that stubbornly persisted despite getting deeper and deeper into the story. Beyond that, the story did not have any major surprising plot twists, although I was secretly hoping one would come up before the end of the book, but it never materialized. In light of these shortcomings, Never Let Me Go is not a book that will linger with me too long. I liked it more than Klara and the Sun but less than The Remains of the Day.

Overall I would recommend Never Let Me Go to anyone who enjoys books by Ishiguro and is curious to read more of his work.

Over the years, I've built this little list in my head in which I carefully reference all the authors who manage to break my heart in the quietest way possible. They're not many, mind you : Jodi Lynn Anderson, Tana French, Robin Hobb - it takes a particular talent for moving me to the core without resorting to shock value, for using a carefully built characterization rather than some action-packed catastrophe.

Their novels are the very same I struggle to recommend and even more, quote, even though they're part of my all-times favorites. If I ever have to explain what exactly make them so special, you'll find me squinting my eyes in concentration, uttering nonsense, probably using adjectives as questions - Tough-provoking? Layered? - but the truth is, it might just be too intimate for me to expose them in some dialectic light.

See, if I'm being honest, I've always felt low-key irritated by all this Art is food for the soul discourse, because for one I'm no artist and above all, I have a hard time dealing with spirituality. Yet if someone asked me, Show me parts of your soul, Anna, after laughing and rolling my eyes I'd probably point to these books and say There. There. There.

Well. If his other works are like Never Let Me Go I'll have to add Kazuo Ishiguro to that list, because God, I'm not remotely okay.

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Honestly, I'm surprised so many of my friends rated Never Let Me Go so highly. I didn't hate it per se, but there was nothing about it I liked, and I found it lacking in quite a few ways.

CHARACTERS. There are 3 main characters:

1) Ruth: vain, selfish, "mean-girl" type of person. She's constantly lying and pretending to make herself look better than everyone around. She's belittling and humiliating everyone, including her boyfriend and best friend.

2) Kathy: Ruth's best friend. Basically, she takes all of Ruth's shit without a peep and also enables her to be a jerk to the rest of the world. She's observant, often knowing Ruth's motives and seeing stuff coming. But she's either cowardly or insincere enough to pretend everything is fine and let things slide.

3) Tommy: Ruth's boyfriend. A kind-hearted lad, though not the sharpest tool in the shed. Honestly, I liked him a lot. But both Kathy and Ruth made fun of him and were mean to him, and he took that so meekly it dismayed me.

So most of the book Ruth was being a jerk and everyone placated her instead of standing up to her. I hated Ruth and hated that she was the only character with any agency. Kathy and Tommy were just reacting or non-reacting to whatever Ruth did.

PLOT. For the first half of the book, it's all just 10-year-olds talking about their pencil cases. I could barely tell it was supposed to be a sci-fi dystopia. It could have been regular fiction about middle-graders in a boarding school. It was boring. And since I wasn't into the main character, it was also vaguely unpleasant.

In the second half of the book, things start to get dramatic. But the world-building is so weak, the whole thing falls apart, so I couldn't take the drama seriously and remained unmoved. It's not the kind of book that bets on a riveting plot. Even in the dramatic part very little happened. As for the "twist" - I guessed it, so nothing surprised me.

(spoilers ahead)

WORLD-BUILDING. Doesn't stand any scrutiny. So in this world, clones are being created for organ-harvesting. This enabled medicine to take a leap and most diseases are a thing of the past. It felt like Kazuo Ishiguro was purposefully vague and kept the focus off of the particulars to avoid the questions that he had no good answer for.

1) The organs are harvested from these clones one by one. Between the operations, there are long periods of recovery. So the process takes years until the clone doesn't stand the last operation. This creates a good dramatic effect: the doom and inevitability of death, slow decline of strength and fading away, etc. But if you think about it, it just makes no sense.

Why wouldn't they take the adult clone and just harvest all organs at once, while they're healthy? There's obviously enough demand for the organs. Clones are taught to look after their health because they need to be good donors. But you know what impacts the health of organs? Not having other vital organs! It's laughable and defeats the whole purpose to harvest organs this way. Not to mention it's slow and takes a lot of labor and medicine to facilitate those recoveries.

It's like having cow farms where stakes are carved from live cows piece by piece, then cows are treated to recover after each operation. Just doesn't work like that.

2) So clones are created, kept in a facility (like a school or a farm) until they're adults. Then for a few years, they're let out into the world to live and do nothing. No one patrols or monitors them. They can't work. They are not required to do anything. When they volunteer, they become nurses to other clones and eventually become organ donors themselves.

It doesn't make sense to give them these years of freedom. Why does it happen at all? So this world is cruel enough to raise clones in inhumane conditions and butcher them, but doesn't make use of these years of purposeless life they have? I bet they would have been used as slave labor during those years.

3) All of the clones know what's coming, how their life will end. But no one tries to escape, blend in, there's no resistance or even dissent. They just roll with it. I find that hard to believe.

4) Why are nurses assigned to patients all around the country and are forced to travel every day, when the patients are kept withing giant centralized hospitals?

ROMANCE. We're supposed to cry at the tragic fate of star-crossed lovers - Kathy and Tommy. But Kathy vaguely despises Tommy and he's not that into her either.

They believed for a while being in love could give them a reprieve from organ harvesting, and I totally see how former friends would start a relationship just trying to save themselves and to care for someone they know for years. Their relationship felt more like 2 people who wanted companionship, felt close because of shared history, and decided they were ok with each other as partners to try and apply for the reprieve.

Overall, what made the book tragic was that innocent people were slowly murdered, and Kathy watched her friend/lover suffer and slowly die. But they had that relationship in the first place because of the years of idleness they were given for no reason. And the abundant suffering and slow decline happened because of the absurd notion organs would get harvested one by one. So I just couldn't take it seriously! If the book made any sense, none of this would have happened!

WRITING. Was pretty good I think. The author did a good job creating those messy, unpleasant, complicated relationships and wrote about the emotional tension in an insightful way. Never Let Me Go was just not a good book, but I'll read more from Kazuo Ishiguro.

This book is on my all,time top ten list. It left my heart broken and my mind racing. I actually assigned it to my graduate students because I really needed to talk to so,embody about it.

I did as requested and didn't read any of the reviews before tackling this book.
I liked the idea, of a tranquil boarding school with strange rituals and secrets hiding its true purpose.

The writing itself was a bit tough going, kind of repetitive in certain instances
i.e. "this reminds me of the time I was by the oak tree talking to Ruth"....."This is why the conversation by the oak tree was so important"...."anyway let me tell you about the story by the oak tree." See - pretty tedious.

But I pushed on because I was really hoping all these hints would lead to some big reveal or some great twist. But unfortunately I found there was no great surprise, I'd more or less worked out what the schools purpose was and I found myself finishing the book with no real satisfaction.

It was a great concept, but I feel so much more could have been done with it, the entire story just fell a bit flat for me. This might be because I'd had such high hopes to begin with - note to self never go into a book with too much expectation as it just makes the disappointment worse.

I might still try another of Ishiguro's books though just to see if it’s universal or just this particular novel.

?/10

As we got older, we went on talking about the Gallery. If you wanted to praise someone's work, you'd say, 'That's good enough for the Gallery.' And after we discovered irony, whenever we came across any laughably bad work, we'd go: 'Oh yes! Straight to the Gallery with that one!'

You said it, Mr. I.

There is a good story here. Not a masterpiece by any means, but good enough. The problem is, it's 253 pages too long. (My edition was 263 pages.) One could work out a really splendid short story from the "remains of the day(school)" -- and then just let everyone stand back in awe because, while slightly derivative in sci-fi fashion, there are also some nice points to be made about we sorry humans. On a number of levels, it's a splendid cautionary tale to *not* let our science outstrip our conscience; an allegory of the insignificance of humanity's daily struggle; perhaps a metaphor for the complete absurdity of existence, period. Yes, some very nice moments here.

What is unforgivable to me is that I should be led by the nose on the shaggiest-of-shaggy-dog stories by an annoying little know-it-all whom Ishiguro tries his best to disguise as just a regular girl, growing up and trying to find her way. Hardly. The sound that Kathy manages to create in my head, the image that she gives, is of one of those disagreeable and obnoxious little girls who would dance around everybody in the schoolyard, sing-songing, "I know something you don't know, na na na." (For little girls like these, we somehow managed to always find a nice, deep mud puddle for them to explore, even though it hadn't rained in weeks.)

I didn't like any of the kids in the novel, in truth. They were all rather annoying to varying degrees, except maybe for Tommy, who was the most sympathetic of a sorry lot.

This was a slog for me, of epic proportion. I would read a few paragraphs and then my mind would start to wander; inevitably, I would find something really, really important that needed attention: like cleaning out the lint trap in the dryer or scrubbing out the cat litter box. (The cats have never had it so good: their boxes cleaned regularly, four-five times a day during the course of this novel, they too are now developing OCD.)

I. Forced. Myself. To. Read. Every. Page. Every. Word.

I didn't want to give up half way through on this one, because I needed to speak from a position of authority to all those in the book club who've given it 5 stars and rave about it still. I needed to be prepared, and not behave like the coward I could have been by just tossing this aside, pretending to read it, and muttering general "pshaws" at the comments in club.

I cannot forgive Mr. I. for having stolen my time so mercilessly, so cruelly.

I do intend on regaling the club with my own Judy-Bridgewater-style serenade, except this time, the singer is real. While Engelbert Humperdinck was the singer of choice for this song, for a certain generation, I thought Tom Jones was a better, .. ahem .. , literary reference.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JgOuv...

Sorry, Mr. I., but I think we're through. You played me the fool with Remains of The Day. (Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.)

Straight to the Gallery with this one!