Never Let Me Go
I’d noticed that since I finished the Masters in English I hadn’t been reading much mainstream fiction. So, while it wasn’t a New Year’s resolution or anything, I determined to begin reading regular fiction while taking a break from sf. My first attempt to do so was unexpectedly slightly less mainstream than I thought it would be.
I must admit, I originally picked up the book because I’d seen and loved the movie version of The Remains of the Day. I had no idea that Kazuo Ishiguro wrote a range of types of novels. Interestingly, Never Let Me Go actually makes use of a sf trope, but since Ishiguro isn’t a sf author, the book, of course, isn’t billed as such. [This follows the typical trend, say P. D. James vehemently denying that Children of Men is sf.]
I won’t give away which sf trope is used, because it’s not actually revealed until a third of the way into the book and learning it any sooner spoils things. In fact, don’t read any detailed reviews of this book if you want to enjoy the way Ishiguro has the story, and the central mystery of its characters’ lives, unfold. I even recommend that you stay away from the reviews at the bottom of the Amazon page.
Why? Because experiencing this tale unfolding is much of the joy of Ishiguro’s craftsmanship of the novel. It’s not only that the secret is only slowly revealed, it’s also that the tale itself moves through time constantly, held together as a reminiscence of Kathy, the main character. Quite a bit of the writing is tell instead of show because it’s written from the first-person POV of the adult Kathy telling the story of her life. It moves to the current time a few times, but spends a majority of the text in her past. It’s a sheer delight to see how he weaves together such a complex timeline with associations linking one bit to the next and then circling back to pick up again without confusion. You also probably never thought I’d recommend something that uses much tell, but Ishiguro is talented enough to make it work for this story, and Kathy’s narration delves into show for every important scene. The way he weaves together the timeline is extraordinary.
One other thing that’s often taken for granted in good writing stands out here. The novel is a wonderful example of how to write beautifully without over writing. Over writing doesn’t have to make it all the way to purple prose to be obviously overdone. It’s one of the biggest mistakes new authors make - lading a piece with an overabundance of floral, descriptive prose that calls great attention to itself as prose. For example, a half-page paragraph in Never Let Me Go typically uses 4-5 adjectives and adverbs total. I’ve seen (and written) sentences that use that many. It keeps the reading fast-paced and lively to have most things conveyed by active verbs instead. I’m not saying you always have to write as lean as Ishiguro does here, but it’s definitely something to keep in mind while writing once you’ve seen a well-written example.
Plot wise, it’s the story of Kathy and how her life intersects with her two best friends, Ruth and Tommy. Chronologically, it tracks them from a childhood at Hailsham, a special boarding school, through late teens and how they come back together in early adult life. A character study of all three (as seen by Kathy), it’s not a novel of action, though there is a mystery component. In the end, it’s Kathy we know very well, and we’re to gauge her strengths and faults often through what she doesn’t say about herself.
Never Let Me Go was a Booker Prize finalist, though it didn’t win like The Remains of the Day did. Ishiguro has created a world that feels scarily possible while still speaking to things in the one we live in currently. It’s a novel that explores what it means to be human, what it means to live a good life. It carries the whiff of dystopia and what occurs when people blindly accept social hegemony without challenging it. Never Let Me Go also makes us think about what lengths we’re ready to go to for our own comfort and lifestyle, what atrocities we quietly condone by doing nothing to stop them. These things interest me greatly, so I can recommend it based on theme. But even more so, read it for the craft - Ishiguro’s ability to dance gracefully between show and tell, his ability to slowly reveal a mystery in a way that nonetheless seems perfectly normal, his ability to tell a story with an extremely complex timeline.
I must admit, I originally picked up the book because I’d seen and loved the movie version of The Remains of the Day. I had no idea that Kazuo Ishiguro wrote a range of types of novels. Interestingly, Never Let Me Go actually makes use of a sf trope, but since Ishiguro isn’t a sf author, the book, of course, isn’t billed as such. [This follows the typical trend, say P. D. James vehemently denying that Children of Men is sf.]
I won’t give away which sf trope is used, because it’s not actually revealed until a third of the way into the book and learning it any sooner spoils things. In fact, don’t read any detailed reviews of this book if you want to enjoy the way Ishiguro has the story, and the central mystery of its characters’ lives, unfold. I even recommend that you stay away from the reviews at the bottom of the Amazon page.
Why? Because experiencing this tale unfolding is much of the joy of Ishiguro’s craftsmanship of the novel. It’s not only that the secret is only slowly revealed, it’s also that the tale itself moves through time constantly, held together as a reminiscence of Kathy, the main character. Quite a bit of the writing is tell instead of show because it’s written from the first-person POV of the adult Kathy telling the story of her life. It moves to the current time a few times, but spends a majority of the text in her past. It’s a sheer delight to see how he weaves together such a complex timeline with associations linking one bit to the next and then circling back to pick up again without confusion. You also probably never thought I’d recommend something that uses much tell, but Ishiguro is talented enough to make it work for this story, and Kathy’s narration delves into show for every important scene. The way he weaves together the timeline is extraordinary.
One other thing that’s often taken for granted in good writing stands out here. The novel is a wonderful example of how to write beautifully without over writing. Over writing doesn’t have to make it all the way to purple prose to be obviously overdone. It’s one of the biggest mistakes new authors make - lading a piece with an overabundance of floral, descriptive prose that calls great attention to itself as prose. For example, a half-page paragraph in Never Let Me Go typically uses 4-5 adjectives and adverbs total. I’ve seen (and written) sentences that use that many. It keeps the reading fast-paced and lively to have most things conveyed by active verbs instead. I’m not saying you always have to write as lean as Ishiguro does here, but it’s definitely something to keep in mind while writing once you’ve seen a well-written example.
Plot wise, it’s the story of Kathy and how her life intersects with her two best friends, Ruth and Tommy. Chronologically, it tracks them from a childhood at Hailsham, a special boarding school, through late teens and how they come back together in early adult life. A character study of all three (as seen by Kathy), it’s not a novel of action, though there is a mystery component. In the end, it’s Kathy we know very well, and we’re to gauge her strengths and faults often through what she doesn’t say about herself.
Never Let Me Go was a Booker Prize finalist, though it didn’t win like The Remains of the Day did. Ishiguro has created a world that feels scarily possible while still speaking to things in the one we live in currently. It’s a novel that explores what it means to be human, what it means to live a good life. It carries the whiff of dystopia and what occurs when people blindly accept social hegemony without challenging it. Never Let Me Go also makes us think about what lengths we’re ready to go to for our own comfort and lifestyle, what atrocities we quietly condone by doing nothing to stop them. These things interest me greatly, so I can recommend it based on theme. But even more so, read it for the craft - Ishiguro’s ability to dance gracefully between show and tell, his ability to slowly reveal a mystery in a way that nonetheless seems perfectly normal, his ability to tell a story with an extremely complex timeline.