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- A few years ago I reviewed the 2005 film `The Island' and in my review I mentioned that the initial concept was stunning and that the direction that concept could have taken was really one of two ways; either a thinking man's intellectual film or a `no holds bar' action film. `The Island' was the later (and a really good one at that), but I really would have loved to see the concept fleshed out thoroughly to become something more engrossing and poignant.
The novel, `Never Let Me Go', by award winning author Kazuo Ishiguro is exactly what I was craving.
What I love so much about `Never Let Me Go' is that it is far less about the actual `cloning' concept and more or less an astute and extremely effecting portrait of adolescence and young adulthood. While yes, the main idea of humans being cloned for their eventual `donations' is always hanging over our heads as we read this engrossing novel (so engrossing that I read it in two sittings), it really becomes a secondary character, leaving open the way for the true meat of this novel to shine forth. This is a beautifully detailed (although never demandingly so) portrait of life and the coming of age realizations that come with it.
Told from the eyes of young Kathy (her protagonist reminds me of Benjamin Button in that she is really just our eyes into the lives of those around her), `Never Let Me Go' tells of three friends (Kathy, Ruth and Tommy) who grow up at somewhat of a boarding school named Hailsham. They grow up with the knowledge (although they rarely understand completely) that they have a specific course in life to follow. After they complete their school they will start their training to become carers (somewhat like nurses) before they get their notice that their donations will begin, where their bodies will serve the greater good of society, or humans.
After that they wait to complete, or die.
What Ishiguro's novel so marvelously does is create a sense of normalcy that is something completely unexpected and ultimately more moving. One might think that a concept like this would be ripe with `oh no we are going to die', thus making this something rather one-note and distancing it from the reader. Instead of placing divisions between these `clones' and the reader, Ishiguro makes each of the characters human. Instead of focusing on their impending doom (it is always there, but never the focal point) it focuses on their present life. They form friendships, relationships, aspirations, loyalties; everything that you and I form. They form attachments to songs, they enjoy visiting the city, they enjoy intimacies with one another. Ishiguro makes them just like you and me, and so when they are forced to face their mortality it doesn't feel like something far fetched or inhuman. Their eventual demise feels like a natural and heartbreaking death of a friend or relative because, thanks to Ishiguro's brilliant writing, these characters are not clones but humans.
You can feel it as if it were you going through the pain.
I also wanted to make mention of the writing style used here. I really found this commendable because of the small detail used to really take you inside the minds of these characters in each stage of their life. I initially found the writing to feel slightly amateurish and really felt that I was going to begin to dislike the novel, but as the pages turned I realized that this was so smart on Ishiguro's part. You see, when the novel opens Kathy is taking us back to the early years of her life at Hailsham, and she is merely eight years old. Ishiguro really makes her age and mindset so real to us, giving us conversations and actions that seem amateurish until you put it into perspective. His writing style makes subtle yet powerful shifts as Kathy grows up and discovers more about herself, her friends and her fate.
Stunning; really, truly stunning. - Reviewed in the United States on November 26, 2012This is the kind of book that win prizes, not the kind that becomes a bestseller.
SPOILER ALERT
In literary terms, this book is a masterpiece. It is SO well-written, you won't even remember the author is a man. Mr. Ishiguro gives a perfect voice for his characters, that is for sure. Kathy, the narrator, is a somewhat shy girl, who's always left aside by her bossy friend, Ruth. And the VOICE the narrator has is SO REAL I've often got myself wondering if that's what a real author is supposed to be like, to write like.
The book tells the story of Kathy, Ruth and Tommy - three people who are born "special". They are clones, made to donate their organs once they reach a certain age.
You would think the story would revolve around that - maybe they decide to rebel and flee, maybe they decide to kill themselves for love, or something like that. Well, surprise, that doesn't even cross their minds. Instead of focusing on the drama such a terrible predetermined fate could cause, Ishiguro focuses on the characters' lives and on how they deal with the inevitable.
The story begins at Hailsham, a school for special people, where lots and lots of children are raised and educated for the future. However, they are never told directly about their fate, and that prompts one of their guardians to say they 'have been told but not told' about what's in store for them.
The first part is pretty boring, and nothing really happens. In fact, it is just a way of presenting life at Hailsham. The children have no parents, and that isn't mentioned once. Where do they come from? Who are they? Why are they special? We are left wondering. But we have 'Madame' and her gallery. Her mysterious gallery. The children at hailsham are supposed to 'create art'. The best 'art' is taken away by 'Madame' to her 'gallery'. And that's one of the most important things in the book.
The second part shows Ruth, Kathy and Tommy at 'the Cottages'. It is somewhat of an intermediary place - a place they go before they start their training to become carers (the people who take care of donors, before they become donors themselves). There the teenagers discover sex, and some form of love. They struggle with the agonies of youth, and they fight and argue among themselves over stupid things. It is good to be young.
In the second part we are presented to the concept of 'possible', and that's when we discover the children are clones. Not clones of normal people, but clones of 'winos, prostitutes, criminals'. In fact, it is at that point you realise WHY they've never tried to run away or rebel (that isn't even mentioned in the book). At least in my opinion, since they know what they are, and where they come from, they realise they have no place in the 'real' world, beause they are not 'real' people. They were MADE, not born, for the single purpose of donating their organs. And that's what they do.
The third part is where it all gets interesting. They begin donating their organs, but there is little focus on it. We learn of the pain the donors have to go through, and of how destroyed the carers become after a while, but that's pretty much it. We are thrown directly into the feelings of the main characters, something that never happens in the first two parts - we only get hints of what was going on.
It is at the point we realise how deep these characters are, how REAL they are. At first we notice they are very flat, but that is only because they are still children. Ishiguro presents us with a real portrait of the uncertainties of infancy, the sufferings of youth, and then we get to see real, developed adults, in action.
Although the book is marvelously written, and Ishiguro is surely a Virtuoso when it comes to writing (I've never read his other works, though), the book is very boring in itself. As I said at the beginning of the review, this is the kind of book that wins prizes, not the kind that becomes a best-seller. When it comes to good literature, this book is one of a kind.
Here's an example: the book is a sort of memoir written by Kath, very unpresumptuous, very simple. It is something she feels she NEEDS to write down before she 'completes' (i.e., dies after donating too many organs).
Since it is a memoir, you are taken through her memories, often in a very disorderly way. She remembers something, and that makes her remember something else, and then she remembers what she was talking about, etc. It may be weird at first, but that is precisely how our memory works, is it not? The fact that an author is able to capture that process in words is simply fascinating to me.
And that is not all. As I've already said, Ishiguro creates very REAL characters. At first you think he is simply writing things his readers can relate to, but then you realise that's not the case. You can relate to his characters because they are pretty much real people. I think I am repeating myself already, and I don't want to make this anymore longer than it already is, so here goes a TL;DR:
TOO LONG; DIDN'T READ - If you want an entertaining book, full of action, adventure and emotion, this IS NOT the book you want to read.
If you want a book where you can savour literature at its best, where you can FEEL what's going on and learn how to write properly (or, in my case, just be jealous because you're probably never gonna be that good), then please, GET THIS BOOK. Although very boring if you are expecting something more interesting, this book is a marvelous piece of good literature.97 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on September 1, 2010Nearly 600 reviews here for Never Let Me Go. What can I possibly add to the discussion?
A few things.
*** Mild spoilers ahead ***
First, I love Ishiguro. He's an outstanding writer. The Remains of the Day is perhaps the greatest novel about unrequited love ever written in the English language. But even Ishiguro is a master at only a few themes. Simply put, his best works are about characters who are unable to break free from their predestined paths. They can be constricted by Victorian manners (such are the protagonists in Remains of the Day), or they are constricted by an inescapable understanding that they will will live very short lives (as the protagonists in Never Let Me Go). The idea to break free and escape never occurs to any of these charaters in Ishiguro's finest works. England might as well be a maximum security prison - a giant gray Alcatraz. And no matter what, none of his characters dare lose their dignity.
Never Let Me Go is not science fiction, nor is it a dystopia novel (like 1984). The best way I can put it is that it is a brilliant short story or novella, expanded to novel length if for no other reason than to let the reader soak-in the sterile, gray environments the protagonists inhabit. The novel is written as a free form memoir, with a terribly irritating literary device. The narrator, Kathy H., has a habit of getting ahead of herself, telling us of a crucial turning point or event, but forces herself to backtrack in order to set-up the next major point (usually expressed as "I'll return to that later" or "more on that later"). And when she does divulge the details of this major turning point, it is usually a creepy, awkward conversation between her and one of her two closest friends, Tommy or Ruth. It becomes quite clear that these characters have a radically isolated and skewed worldview. For them (or at least Kathy H.) major events are not graduations, or moving to a new residence, or even death. No, major events are spilling secrets and making the occasional error of saying too much or being too harsh towards one's somewhat distant friend. In other words, they are totally old school British schoolchildren in a bubble. These schoolchildren inhabit an alternate England - one that has advanced science far greater than the real postwar UK.
Never Let Me Go has scenes from this alternate England that you may never forget. The empty rural roads and service stations where Kathy H. finds peace driving her car. The perpetually gray skies. The refuse and trash collecting in the trees and barbed wire in a field somewhere in the east. The casual, passionless relationship the characters have with sex and death. The stiff upper lip attitude of wanting to make it to one's fourth 'donation'. It really is a brilliant work if you accept the argument that it is a dystopian story that avoids going into any details of the dystopia.
In other words, this is not Children of Men. The Europe in this novel might be in the midst of a serious public health crisis, but Never Let Me Go neither hints at one nor explains what it might be. Or Europe might be so prosperous, so technologically advanced, that the creation of these children might have seemed as natural as any advancement in a First World society. Ishiguro gives nothing away, expect for a key line about how science advanced so quickly after 1946 that there 'was no time' to consider the morality or logic of those advancements. In other words, England had become a well mannered monster. By 1996, England was consuming living, breathing, beautiful children as easily as stocks were traded on the FTSE. These children will be throughly educated, grow up, experience two years of independent, sexually liberated life, and then work to fulfill their predetermined destinies. And this England, as you might expect, seems quietly proud of that achievement, despite having 'no time' to ponder the consequences. Because, I suspect, more important things in English society must be maintained. There are cricket matches and afternoon tea parties to attend, after all. Carry on, you English. I am certain Ishiguro is attracted to that theme given the similarities to 20th century Japan's adherence to honor, dignity, and constrained mannerisms.
That alone is highly disturbing and original. And while I suspect Ishiguro was inspired by Dolly the Sheep in 1996, others with more sinister agendas have already looked to this novel for ideological ammunition. Opponents of embryonic stem cell research and abortion see parallels in this novel. They see how a society, with good intentions of advancing health and science, can destroy perfectly good lives. The difference they cannot escape, however, is that the children in this novel are not in a lab or in a uterus. But I am just rubbed the wrong way when I see 'Antis' flocking to a book by a secular British man as a source for their petty arguments.
But as Kathy H. might say, let me return to what I was saying about the novel itself.
I feel like such a picky reader when I complain that this could have been a novella or short story. As great and elegant a writer as Ishiguro is, even he has no serious justification for the length of this work. There is much creepiness and some suspense, but no tension. Rather it is a largely atmospheric work. At least the book gives us two amazing sequences, the road trip to Norfolk, and Tommy's moment of rebellion and passion (which may very well reflect the frustration of many readers of this book). Even a quiet, introverted student like Tommy has to let it all out when he (and we) discover that we were told so much and at the same time, so very little.
But there is a glimmer of hope - the 2010 movie directed by Mark Romanek. Not only will the story line be tighter, it might play better in the medium of cinema, despite offering no answers as to what happened to this alternate world.
And of course, that is Ishiguro's point. This novel is intended to make us think about our real world and our lives. For succeeding at that, I give him tons of credit. For reprising his themes of people locked in their manners, bubbles, and fates, I also bestow him much credit. But for stretching it to 287 pages, I feel I must deduct stars.69 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on August 2, 2005Ishigiro's Never Let Me Go is beautifully written and the character development is excellent. I did not put this book down and read it in several hours. It's a wonderful example of modern literature and completely unique in the fact that we read the most unspeakable horror and swallow it up, wide-eyed and alarmed, all the while amazed that something so terrifying can be written so poetically.
This is not a horror novel by any means! This is an examination of a certain aspect of our culture and how we can all be indoctrinated to accept it.
I don't want to re-outline the entire plot, since so many reviewers have already done so. What makes this story so powerful is how understated it is. We watch these children grow from childhood to adulthood, always knowing how their lives will unfold. Cloned from their "models", they know that they will eventually be harvested for their vital organs. This is their purpose, and it is never questioned. Ever. Sometimes certain events or things will cause the protagonists to stop and almost reconsider their destinies, but they fail to consider it fully and go on with their lives as they've been taught to. Notably, there is an abandoned boat towards the end of the book. Kathy, Ruth, and Tommy make their way to the dock to peer at this ticket to freedom. Kathy notes the cabin size and condition and it's clear they could take that boat somewhere and be free. They don't. They don't even discuss it. They just watch it sitting there. Kathy and Tommy drive all over the English countryside-- it's clear they have their physical freedom. They drive to clinics to visit other donors, to stores to shop, cafes to relax in, and hospitals for pre-donation testing. There are no doors or bars holding these people in. They are conditioned from day one to live their lives knowing they will one day donate and "complete". Nobody they know has done otherwise. There are no rumors about anyone refusing their preordained destinies.
Herein lies the books strength and its weakness. Throughout the novel, I thought it seemed as if it was leading up to a more climactic event. And, it did and didn't. The climax was a bit anticlimactic and the characters brought in to meet with the two heroes seemed flat (while empathetic) and lacking depth. The horror this meeting could have evoked was felt more fully through the use of Tommy's hopeful art, through some of the thoughts Kathy had and immediately disregarded. It seemed as if more could have and should have been done with that rather than this macabre meeting with the two former school administrators.
Yet, at the same time, maybe this is the novel's strength. Freedom is hinted at, yet not taken. There is no prison, yet they are prisoners of society and their own minds. There is love, but maybe the passion is lacking because they know subconsciously there is no future. And, Kathy has seen her friends complete. She knows what's coming after donation number 4 for the man she loves. She changes the subject when he brings the subject up. She dismisses it because it's too difficult to openly discuss it. We know this and they know this. And, although this might be the book's strength, I do yearn for this discussion. I'm left without real closure and I want them to wake up.
This is heartily recommended.42 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on November 8, 2010"Never Let Me Go" takes takes place in an alternate present (or an alternate late 1990s) with a dystopian bent. The novel is told in a conversational (and very, very English) first person voice from the point of view of Kathe H., a 31 year old about to retire from being a "carer" in order to become a "donor." Kathe explains that, as she prepares for the next stage of her life, she feels the urge to recall her past with her two dearest friends, Tommy and Ruth, and more than that, to come to some understanding of what it has all meant. She begins her story at Hailsham, the boarding school where she and her friends grew up, on a beautiful but isolated country estate, and follows them through their late teens, living with a group of other students at a rural cottage, and into their adult lives as carers and donors.
The story, though phrased in a way that assumes a certain level of knowledge on the part of the reader, isn't intended to be mystery. Like the students in the novel, readers know from the beginning that the characters are being carefully groomed to become multiple organ donors. As the children grow up, their knowledge of the specifics increases, and so does their understanding of where they come from, and the what donation will mean. Readers piece together the details of the donation system gradually from bits of information dropped throughout the text. The antiseptic language and Hailsham-specific slang scattered throughout infuses the book with a sense of creepy authenticity.
Throughout the work, Kathy comes across as friendly, matter of fact and honest--but she is not strictly speaking, a trustworthy narrator. Her remarkable evenhanded forthrightness in relating the events of the story, even her own faults and her sex life, is oddly offset by her extreme reserve. As the work progresses, it becomes clear that her own emotions are tightly controlled and deeply suppressed, perhaps as a survival mechanism, perhaps simply as a function of the expectations with which she has been raised. She faces the deaths of her friends, if not with equanimity, than with acceptance. Still, there are aspects of the donor's fate, particularly what may happen after they "complete" that she cannot face, can barely imply. The emotion and drama of the story, like the precise truth behind the characters lives, is left largely to the reader to uncover.
"Never Let Me Go" features an unusual narrative structure that is both striking and convincing, though occasionally a little wearing. The story is primarily a sort of continuous flashback, one narrator recalling a series of a events in chronological order. But within those recollections, the plot tends to swirl and eddy, doubling back on itself. Kathy H., like any of us, telling a story to a friend, might start out to relate a specific event, then become sidetracked by some peripheral detail--what a particular teacher was like, which areas at school were and were not considered "in bounds," etc.--leading to a whole other anecdote. It might be 10 or 15 pages before the narrator brings us back around to the original tale. Ishiguro adds a further layer by including frequent references to subsequent discussions the characters had about the events in question. In this way, each incident is rendered using a rich depth of perspectives, all filtered through the narrator's current self, creating something manifold and complex and at the same time entirely one-sided. It's really a great device, although I'll admit that by about halfway through the book, it had started to drive me a little crazy.
In it's style, characterization, relationships, and even in the simplicity of many of the events, this novel is compellingly realistic. It's one of those rare books that inserts one fantastical detail into a world that is otherwise utterly true to life. As so many have pointed out, Ishiguro uses the novel as a venue to raise implicit questions about science and morality; nature and nurture; what it means to be human, and what human beings are capable of.14 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on April 20, 2005At one level this is a deeply moving and extremely sad love story told by a young woman, the sole survivor of a love triangle. At another level it is a nightmarish horror tale whose protagonists have all come to life through cloning, and from day one were then raised at Hailsham, a special "boarding school" where, in total isolation, they were being prepared for an early death by organ donation to terminally ill but maculately conceived "normal" humans. Though as gothic a tale as has ever been imagined, this novel recounts scenes from the narrator's life, as mundane and ordinary as the comings and goings of some Jane Austen characters. The horror is encoded in the whole, not in its parts. One is reminded of that weird surface known as a Moebius strip, which though weirdly one-sided as a whole, in small regions looks like any run-of-the-mill two-sided surface.
Stylistically, Ishiguro masterfully manages this large-scale/small-scale contrast by endowing the narrator with a very simple and restricted, yet truly poetic word usage. To emphasize ordinariness on the small scale, short everyday words are the rule throughout, along with some childish idioms, to such a point, that when the word "bonhomie" puts in a cameo appearance in this sad tale, it hits one like a bombshell. Besides, the pacing is so perfect, that the book is a real page-turner.
The other remarkable literary ingredient --- maybe the one that attracted Ishiguro to this topic in the first place --- is that in this setting, time undergoes a rescaling. Unlike "normal" humans, whose actuarial life expectancy exceeds seventy years, Hailsham graduates can expect to "complete" (their euphemism for the verb die) before they even reach the age of thirty. One lives one's life according to the time at one's disposal. It is remarkable how the basic human emotions and interactions get deformed to accommodate the much-shortened lifetime of these characters. At some point all humans become aware of their mortality, but this point obviously gets much moved up when early "completion" becomes a virtual certainty. As a consequence, youth loses much of its easygoing freedom of care. This novel explores in some depth the extent to which mortality-awareness affects human feelings and actions. Yes, not only does Ishiguro deal in stylistic Moebius strips and rescaled time, but also in issues of life and death, the deepest human issues.
The characters' marked humanity and the apparent short-term normalcy of their situation makes one gladly willing to suspend disbelief, even as it is clear that a world in which cloned humans are bred for the sole purpose of mercilessly harvesting their vital organs, is very far from late twentieth century England in which the novel is set. Yet, as a literary device, this fantasyland, or more precisely nightmare-land, comes in very handily for the exploration of some very deep issues. Apart from those I already mentioned, there is also the issue of artistic creation as a manifestation of one's humanity, an issue, which surprisingly turns out to be crucial in driving the most thrilling part of Ishiguro's plot. Some suspended disbelief is also called for when in the middle of nowhere teenage high-school graduates are found debating Joyce and Proust and aptly, if somewhat glibly --- though probably with Ishiguro's smiling approval --- putting down George Eliot's "Daniel Deronda." This is all the more bizarre, given that from the day they were born, these youngsters had been carefully sequestered from any interaction whatsoever with contemporary society at large, let alone with the societies described by all these long-dead writers.
What I found most surprising, was the meekness of all these cloned humans, not one of whom manages to come up with the idea of fighting those who perpetrate this atrocity on them. Even Tommy, the male of the love triangle, though of a marvelously rebellious nature, does not take his fate in his own hands when it really matters. With an English stiff upper lip he goes through four organ-harvesting operations before he finally "completes."
These are all minor quibbles, given what Ishiguro delivers on the big issues he so successfully tackles in this marvelous and absorbing masterpiece.8 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on September 9, 2010It's very unusual for me to read any books with science fiction themes. I'd also call this a post-modern book except that Ishigoro states that it takes place in the 1990's. However, this novel wowed me. I could not put it down once I'd started it.
The story is about a tight-knit group of students who go to a boarding school in England called Hailsham. On the surface, Hailsham is like any other posh place. However, once you look under the surface, there is something very odd lurking. The students have never been out of Hailsham and they are unfamiliar with the 'ordinary' world except for what they learn from their teachers or textbooks. There is no internet nor is there any computer learning. The students are preparing to be 'donors'. They know this but they don't really know what it is. As the book says, they are "told but not told". They are children raised by their teachers at Hailsham who are called guardians. They don't have families or parents. They have been created through some sort of cloning for the purpose of giving their organs to others once they reach a certain age.
The main characters in the book are Ruth, Tommy and Kathy. Kathy is the narrator and the novel is told through her eyes. Ruth is the ringleader of their group, and her moodiness and opinions often set the tone for how the others feel. Tommy starts out as a young boy who is angry all the time, filled with tantrums and acting out. As he matures, he learns to control his anger and fit in with the rest of the students. Kathy is a pleaser. She wants everyone to get along, to make things right with others.
The students are encouraged to be creative. About four times a year they have 'exchanges', a time when they are able to choose items that they or other students have created - poems, paintings, drawings, sculptures. However, before the students get to pick their choices, a mysterious 'Madame' comes to the campus and gets to go through the artwork first. The students have a rumor that she has a gallery somewhere. For creating this artwork, the students are given tokens and these tokens serve as their currency to buy things at 'sales'. About four times a year, a white van pulls into Hailsham and the students are given an opportunity to buy items that it delivers. I was struck that the most modern item mentioned is a CD headset.
Throughout the book, their is an undercurrent of doom and gloom, conspiracy and intrigue. The students never are privy to anything in the ordinary world. They are not allowed to have hopes and dreams. Their future is set. They are to be either donors or carers. Usually, once they are in their late teens, they start as carers and then they become donors until they 'complete'. The word 'death' is never mentioned in this book.
This is a book to immerse oneself in. I grew to care for the protagonists and had a sense of their world, eerie as it was. I felt for their lost hopes and dreams, their wonderment about where they came from and who they really were. I highly recommend this book.6 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on April 25, 2012BOOK SUMMARY: Kathy H. narrates a tale about her childhood growing up with Tommy and Ruth in an exclusive school called Halisham. It is difficult to say much more without revealing a key spoiler, so I'll just say what you learn in the first ten pages or so of the book. Kathy is a "carer," who looks after weak or demoralized "donors" who generally donate four times (sometimes fewer) before "completing." Other reviews have called the secret behind these terms "unsettling" or "shocking," but I guessed it right away.
WHY I WANTED TO GIVE THIS BOOK FOUR STARS: Although I was disappointed that I'd so easily guessed the big secret, I was still blown away by how immaculate the writing is. Kathy's voice is clear and resonant, and she speaks with the kind of language that is deceptively simple. Kathy's no-frills prose is not an easy trick for writers to pull off. At the same time, it means the tale only has as much oomph as the plot.
WHY I WANTED TO GIVE THIS BOOK THREE STARS: A story is only as good as its characters, and Ishiguro has created some fully-realized students here. The traditional love triangle of Ruth, Tommy, and Kathy interacts with more than a handful of teachers and peers, and they are all equally well-drawn. However, our protagonists, although richly human, are not particularly likeable. Kathy is almost entirely ineffectual; she exists foremost as a passive observer, and only secondly as the bland pog that bounces between Ruth and Tommy. Ruth is manipulative, selfish, and a habitual liar. Tommy is so socially maladjusted that, on multiple occasions, he even gets on the nerves of everyone else. (Still liked him the most, though.)
There are really two parts to the tale. The love/friendship triangle is the core of the book, and although beautifully rendered, I didn't find it especially interesting, unique, or moving. This is probably because it is supposed to be viewed through the second part to the tale, which is the world in which the characters live -- a world of "donors." This world is left intentionally vague for much of the book. Part of me feels that this is partly because too closely examining the rules of Kathy's world will reveal some plot holes (I'd say much more on the subject if it wouldn't spoil the plot). Sadly, even the small doses of information that the reader IS given are parceled too conservatively, and Ishiguro resorts to a character, in a long speech at the end, revealing a few of the lingering questions readers might have.
WHY I CHOSE TO GIVE THIS BOOK TWO STARS: The book ends with a quality of poeticism that is rarely encountered in books these days. I found it quite touching, but it also felt like an emotional smokescreen. The book moved me to think -- which is also wonderful -- but after I DID think, I realized that I could find no real value to Ishiguro's tale. Whatever you want to say that the book is about -- humanity, morality, the soul, friendship, hope, love, family -- none of those interpretations has been able to truly mesh, for me, the two halves of the book.
There is the Shocking Horrifying Truth of Kathy's world, and then there is the fumbling, bumbling guesswork of children learning how to be people and people learning how to be. The Secret is so vague, and is referred to so obliquely by the characters, that it is not entirely believable nor does it carry the weight of allegory. It wasn't used enough to move, change, or confront the characters, which made it feel almost tacked-on and unnecessary. The second part -- Kathy's upbringing with Tommy and Ruth -- is (as I've said) wonderfully done, but that also doesn't change the fact that it is a basic love triangle, not that much different from what you might find on a soap opera or school-age drama. No new ground was broken, in other words.
Stirred together correctly, these two elements might have made for a more rewarding (if not still derivative) tale. The unconvincing dichotomy of it, though, reveals more acutely the flaws in each half. And so, although I really admired the clarity of Ishiguro's prose, it felt like it was used to tell only half of a story.17 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on March 28, 2021As I progressed reading this book, I was getting angrier and angrier about what main characters talk, think, about questions they ask and (for God’s sake!!!) what they do with their lives. It all is obvious for the reader that what is laid ahead of everyone of the students is a slaughter. Why do they go towards their slaughter like cattle? Why don’t ask straight questions? Why won’t revolt? What do they have to lose? I got very angry and upset with the book until I suddenly heard IT – loudly, straight into my mind, Ishiguro Kazuo was asking me “Do YOU do what you think you absolutely need to do?!” It was like a sudden slap on my face. Before this moment I was angrily thinking “Why miss Lucy, when she came to the conclusion that the students need to know the truth, didn’t give them that truth?”. Now I heard the author saying straight into my mind “Do you always say the truth when you think you need to say truth?” Those calls are the main treasures of this book given by the author almost personally, almost intimately to me.
Besides this message I heard Ishiguro’s usual reflections – gentle sadness about this or that feature of our life. In this book, paradoxically, you want the characters fight for their lives, but at the same time you clearly see that our life (without any donations) is the same process – losing health little by little, approaching our death.
I also am catching Ishiguro’s question for societies “Do your institutions have conscience?”. The institution of slavery was just like the institution of clone-donors in this book clearly monstrously unfair, but whole societies preferred to keep eyes closed on the monstrosity. And what about the institutions of the future?
I wrote the above yesterday. Today is Sunday, it is morning; I woke up still thinking about the book. This time I am thinking not about messages, big meanings of the book, but about the story itself. It is a heart ripping story, but it doesn’t fall on you all at once, as if the author, having mercy on his readers, throws some hopes here and there. In the beginning of the book, even though I understood what “students” are for in that society, I, at the same time, had hope, that their artwork will somehow override their organ donation importance for the society. I didn’t believe until the last pages, that Tommy, Ruth and Kathy indeed will finish their lives donating organs. Ruth’s constant attempts to integrate into “higher” level of their own folks, made me think, that she was smart enough to manipulate them all out of the horrible path. Ruth’s vision of her future, working in the office made me believe it indeed can happen………… Only to see, two days after I finished reading the book, how heartbreaking and straightforward was the illustration of a pitiful condition of “students” when a simple office (work in which wouldn’t produce much desire in anyone) was the brightest possible dream for them. And even this one – absolutely not possible.
But the hugest fall into the abyss of desperation fell suddenly in Tommy’s last fear around the statement that sounds through the book from the very beginning “They don’t tell us all”. When miss Lucy tells her students “They don’t tell you all”, I imagined that “telling them all” would make some difference, possibly some way out of the path, and even to some bright paths – life filled with arts….. Only to hear what Tommy has to face “How, maybe, after the forth donation, even if you’ve technically completed, you’re still conscious in some sort of way; how then you find there are more donations, plenty on the other side of that line; how there are no more recovery centers, no carers, no friends; how there’s nothing to do except watch your remaining donations until they switch you off. Its horror movie stuff and most of the time people don’t want to think about it.” As a proof of this last point, Kathy dismissed Tommy’s fear as rubbish.
What is the consolation in this book? I can’t quiet understand but there is one for sure, because it doesn’t completely crush you with despair, but leaves you with calm sadness and the desire to wonder.113 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on January 18, 2006This novel is wonderfully written on so many levels. Whereas many authors fail to get the voice and tone right when they make the main protagonist someone of the opposite sex, Ishiguro succeeds. He's dropped the register of the language perfectly, too, so that Kathy H. comes across as bright but not too literary.
I agree with other reviewers that the novel falls short on realism. No society that has decent people in it would tolerate the situation of Kathy H., Tommy, and Ruth. There would be an underground railroad; there would be safehouses in remote parts of the United Kingdom. People would be smuggled to countries where religious views would never tolerate harvesting organs from sentient fellow creatures. For this reason, I think "Never Let Me Go"'s lack of realism causes it to fall a bit short of Margaret Atwood's excellent recent dystopia, "Oryx and Crake." As for why these particular protagonists don't flee, I think Ishiguro answers this: a lifetime of breeding to accept one's situation has lulled them into submission. None of them is a crusader; if they were, they would have tried to find Miss Lucy. And Ishiguro never says that no one else has tried to escape.
But if the novel is unrealistic on one level, it's closer to reality than one might think on others.
First, coercive organ harvesting is reported to exist. Consider this press release from the University of California, Berkeley, dated April 30, 2004, which begins: "A . . . Berkeley medical anthropologist is helping authorities in Brazil, Israel and South Africa investigate what she calls a shocking new 'slave triangle' in which the poor are being taken to distant cities by criminal syndicates and coerced into selling their organs for illegal transplants." Or the excellent and compelling report in The New York Times of May 23, 2004, that begins: "RECIFE, Brazil--When Alberty José da Silva heard he could make money, lots of money, by selling his kidney, it seemed to him the opportunity of a lifetime. For a desperately ill 48-year-old woman in Brooklyn whose doctors had told her to get a kidney any way she could, it was. [¶] At 38, Mr. da Silva, one of 23 children of a prostitute, lives in a slum near the airport here, in a flimsy two-room shack he shares with a sister and nine other people. [¶] [¶] He recalled his mother as a woman who 'sold her flesh' to survive. Last year he decided that he would, too. Now, a long scar across his side marks the place where a kidney and a rib were removed in exchange for $6,000, paid by middlemen in an international organ trafficking ring." Of course, a libertarian response might be that the latter is an economic transaction among voluntary actors and hence morally neutral. But under Mr. Silva's circumstances, that sounds a bit like negotiating the price of a ladder to a man stranded in a pit full of poisonous snakes. It's not so far removed from "Never Let Me Go."
And instances of looking away more generally from the circumstances of others are not hard to find either. We in the United States are happy to consume cheap produce even though we know it may have been harvested by undocumented workers living and working in horrible conditions. Small construction projects in this state are carried out much more cheaply when done by people who speak limited English and have no union card. We don't spend much time thinking about the fate of the union workers whose jobs have been displaced. And many people view those who live in other countries as not quite real, nor fully human. I see this in the indifference to the recent news report that we may have killed a number of civilians in a bombing raid in Pakistan. It's not just the paucity of expressions of concern (that would be insufficient evidence), but the affirmations of the need to sacrifice innocent bystanders that I heard on local talk radio yesterday. Both guests and hosts were implying (and clearly thinking, though maybe subconsciously) that as long as the victims are faceless residents of a land far removed from ours, it's regrettable but acceptable.24 people found this helpfulReportHelpful
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From the United States
- 7 people found this helpfulHelpful
- Reviewed in the United States on December 3, 2006In interviews, Ishiguro states that this novel is primarily asking the reader to dwell upon mortality, and the fact that the human condition allows no escape from death, or from other limitations. Time is precious. So precious, in fact, that I wonder whether it is worth spending the time reading this book! For me, it serves more as an enigmatic koan than as an articulate exploration of existential concerns.
*
Ishiguro says that over the preceding decade he had written a few stories concerning unspecified 'students' living in run down accommodation in the English countryside; he liked these tales, but did not know how to order them as part of some larger structure; then he chanced upon a science program and the idea struck him that they might be clones. He claims not to be very interested in, or knowledgeable about, science, and that his aim was not to critique current developments in reproductive technology.
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My experience of reading the book was one where the narrator, Kathy, was more a permanent child, rather than a 31 year old woman. She and her clone peers are children who never grow up. More disturbing is the implication that they do not want to grow up. They all are cramped by this overwhelming passivity. Seemingly devoid of intellectual curiosity, they are fearful of finding out too much about their circumstances. Perhaps Ishiguro is implying that we are all like this, at least in part, and in order to cast an unflinching gaze upon this aspect of our characters he has chosen to simplify his cast - they have been pared down to the traits he wishes to meditate upon.
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This minimalism of characterisation extends to a minimalism of mood. The book is the literary equivalent of an overcast day. The low heavy sky presses down on every page, and if one were to lift one's eyes away there, through a curtained window, would lie the sad green of country England. Kathy, the narrator, constrains the amplitude of her emotions. Hers are the small concerns of a compliant child at boarding school. She wishes not to make trouble, she wishes to be liked and to 'get on', and she accepts the role she is being asked to play in society as her duty. Her friend, Ruth, while similarly fearful, has mild aspirations towards climbing above her station, while the boy they share, Tommy, is even less reflective than they, his inner life expressed through ineffectual rages and tears. Sex is a bodily function, mildly disapproved of, as if by some understanding county vicar. It hardly stirs the passions.
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Obviously some readers find all of this effective. With so few distractions, one is forced to dwell repeatedly on a narrow set of concerns. The writing is simple in a thoughtful way, with uncomplicated rhythms, and a voice that is true to itself. Perhaps reading this can put one in a ruminative state where it becomes possible to contemplate one's own mortality and corporeality.
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Yet I'm not convinced that the book is a success. The choice of the actual subject matter feels poorly explored and, as a result, arbitrary. The fact that these characters are clones asks for a more thorough and imaginative and coherent realisation of the world which bred them - to leave their passivity enigmatic is something of a gimmick, a trick that ostensibly leaves room for the reader's imagination, but which also spares the author quite some work. Ishiguro is implying a dystopia, but it is one glimpsed through the blinkered eyes of one of its seemingly rather dull victims - it means the reader potentially gets to see and to understand as little as the narrator, or at least little more. The actual interpersonal relationships portrayed are also very limited. They do not develop in depth beyond childhood allegiances and lusts, and so they do not serve as triggers for thoughts about adult interactions. The lack of family interactions, necessitated by the premiss of clones, makes the book all the more irrelevant to reality.
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So much of life is left out! What is left can generate existential thoughts, but these quickly expire for want of an exciting, expansive narrative structure. Ishiguro is an accomplished musician, and here he has created a miniature reminiscent of those by his compatriot Takemitsu Toro. It might also be said to exemplify the Japanese aesthetic ideal of wasa sabi - it is restrained, it has an undercurrent of haunting longing, and it has an acceptance of sadness and evanescence. Yet in the end it is an English novel, and I wonder whether the intended aesthetic is at odds with the chosen form.26 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on July 9, 2025I like this book and this product was excelente for me and very interesting because i search all libraries and I can't get this in physical only in virtual book and I don't like this 😵💫ReportHelpful
- Reviewed in the United States on April 15, 2012As other reviewers have attested to, this is a difficult novel to write a review about without giving away spoilers. Therefore, be forewarned that there are major spoilers in this review.
I was wavering on what exactly I thought of this book until I finished the third and final part, which sold me on the novel. Some reviewers didn't like the way the novel didn't have that "twist" or "wow factor" at the end, but I didn't think that was necessarily the point or important. When you come down it, the novel essentially questions what "being human" is, and the subsequent ethics of treating "clones" as less than human. Kathy's struggle with very human emotions as she witnesses the fates of those close to her, and finds out the information behind Hailsham.
Kathy's style of narration was distracting at first. She has a chatty, conversational tone, as if you are sipping tea with her as she speaks. The problem with this is that she tends to throw these nuggets of information about significant future events at you, and then drifts off to describing something in the present, leaving you frustrated. The jumpy narrative is for a purpose, however, the picture of this world is slowly being revealed to us, just as it was to Kathy.
The first part of Never Let Me Go establishes the society Kathy and her classmates live under at Hailsham. Kathy meets two classmates, Ruth and Tommy, and develops a friendship with them. Guardians oversee the students, and there is a push for the students to create art. One of the guardians, Miss Lucy , comes to Hailsham and seems a bit different than all the others. One day she reveals to Kathy and the others a bit about the real fate and nature of their existence and purpose, which puzzles them. From here, the second part focuses on Kathy, Tommy, and Ruth's lives at the cottages and the rivalries and friendships they build. As Kathy has conflicts with Ruth over the relationship with Tommy, as well as their world, she begins to reflect on possibility of being a carer. The nature of Kathy's position as a "carer",which she alludes to at the beginning, isn't completely revealed until the third part, and we see the significance of why she is telling us her story. As a "carer", she has a job that requires sacrifice and the essentials that a "human being" must have to deal with pain and loss.
There's a certain level of bleakness within Never Let Me Go, but it is still a fascinating read, one that examines a scary world clones are exploited for their organs, deemed not human and devoid of a soul. While there's certainly a backwardness about how the outside world relies on the vital organs of clones to subsist (irony in that, cruel as it is, it is deemed necessary and humane for the "human" world), I wouldn't exactly classify the novel as sheer dystopia. Never Let Me Go is presented in a quiet, reflective way, and, because of that and it's first person narrative, it's more poignant revelations are in the book's final pages, and makes one think about this society for some time. Therefore, I don't think anyone should give up on the novel, as the final revelations make up for some confusion in early going. I know you can't judge a novel on simply one passage, but the final paragraph of this novel is quite moving and powerful, and pretty much puts into perspective the entire moral of this book.3 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on August 14, 2010This is one of those books that I've "always meant to get around to." Knowing that the cinematic release is imminent is what finally moved it to the top of my towering TBR pile. I'm delighted to have finally read the novel, and I definitely enjoyed it, but I can't help feeling just a bit let down. I've been hearing raves for years, and my expectations were pretty high.
I don't even know what to say about a book that has already garnered hundreds of reviews. It's got a plot that supposedly has a big reveal, so I want to be careful what I write, but that was also part of the problem for me. What was supposedly the big secret was obvious to me from the beginning, either because I've unconsciously picked up chatter over the years, or, um, it was just obvious.
Anyway, it's a story told in reflection by Kathy, our 31-year-old first-person narrator. She's reflecting on the events of her life, thus far. The first lengthy section of the novel details her upbringing at an unusual British boarding school. There she formed the relationships that were pivotal in her later life, most notably with her best friends, Ruth and Tommy. She continues relating the events of her life after her schooling, and the continually evolving relationships she had with her friends as she slowly learns more about the world they're living in.
That was sufficiently vague. The story is interesting, disturbing, and very, very thought-provoking. There were a few problems I had, but I want to emphasize that despite minor complaints, I thought there was real brilliance to this book. My biggest problem was that every single scene, some of them very emotional, was related by Kathy. And her recounting, in hindsight, was always somewhat flat and removed. An example, "...for a while things were okay between us. Maybe, looking back, there was an atmosphere of something being held back, but it's possible I'm only thinking that now because of what happened next." It was literally a case of being told, not shown. Instead of being directly in a scene, we get everything through the prism of Kathy's eyes. It wasn't that she wasn't a sympathetic character, but somehow I had trouble channeling her emotional connection to the events of her life. I sort of got sick of her deadpan voice, and the constant foreshadowing got a bit old, too.
And my other complaint is related. Mr. Ishiguro is renowned for his beautiful prose. I have no doubt his reputation is justified, and I look forward to exploring more of his work in the near future. However, he so skillfully and consistently narrates in Kathy's voice, that all poetry is lost. That simply isn't who she is, and she tells her story in a straightforward and utilitarian manner.
It's the haunting nature of her story (to us, if not to her) that is so powerfully effecting. I had a friend tell me that he loved the novel up until the ending, but then felt it was a let-down. My feeling was the opposite. Had it gone any other way, I might have been disappointed. There was so much in this book to digest, I'm not sure that I've taken it all in yet. I'll look forward to the film to spark further discussion, contemplation, and debate.2 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on May 25, 2005Caveat: there are small spoilers ahead, though fewer than in the Publsher's Weekly review that Amazon provides.
I really wanted to like this book a lot, and it certainly is not without its virtues. The way Ishiguro sustains the voice of the narrator over the course of the story is impressive; Kathy's voice is every bit as distinctive as Stevens' in The Remains of the Day and yet quite unlike it. The book also deals with worthy themes, not least the way we might come to take for granted something utterly shocking and repulsive. One reviewer asked why none of the characters tried to run away. My response is that the reader wishes they might, but the point of the novel is that the characters have been lulled into a sense that their lot in life is inevitable; they have their place and the most they could hope for (a hope that plays out in the final pages) is that there might be a brief respite from what must come.
More below on the psychological plausibility of that premise. My disappointment had to do with what sits in the background. The novel, after all, is set in contemporary England -- or, at least, a version of contemporary England that's supposed to be within a reasonable imaginative distance of the world as it actually is. Perhaps the scheme on which the novel is built could actually emerge from the real attitudes of contemporary Western Europe. The way we are to assume most people view Kathy and her fellow "students" is not unlike the kind of racism that's still far too common in supposedly civilized Europe. But even that sort of reflexive racism seldom goes so far as to call into question whether the "other" has a soul and, the most vicious aside, most Western racists would still be horrified by the use to which the "students" are put. It's true; we are within living memory of the Holocaust. But it's also true that because of those very memories, the Western world, at least, is a different place. Moreover, even though most of us have deep reservations about cloning, it's not because we think that cloned humans would be any less than human. On the contrary, our reservations are partly because it's so clear that these beings _would_ be humans -- just like us.
Or so one might think. In order to make the case that this isn't so, and that the England he imagines is within imaginative reach, Ishiguro would have had to tell us a lot more than he does about how his dystopia came about. What we get, instead, is a hasty and almost perfunctory account in the final pages that feels unconvincing and blunts the emotional force of the novel's ending.
That said, there's a coda that honesty compels me to add. When I finished the book, I felt much less moved than I thought I was meant to. But in spite of the clumsiness of the backstory, I woke up the next morning with a real sense of unease. It was not that I was ready to grant the plausibility of the backstory. It was that I could imagine all too easily that the characters might really have been manipulated into accepting the utterly unacceptable lot that they have been handed, however implausible that lot may be. These characters may not be intrinsically less soulless than the rest of us, but we can imagine them being robbed of a piece of their souls -- not by the circumstances of their births but by how they've been schooled to see themselves.117 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on July 1, 2025Understatedly elegant in its simplicity & spareness, elegiac, touching & tender… Story of love, yearning, hope and profound sadness… thank you2 people found this helpfulReportHelpful
- Reviewed in the United States on September 1, 2012This is a review of NEVER LET ME GO by Kazuo Ishiguro.
I've been debating whether or not I should do this review. Amazon already has 745 customer reviews of it. There are some awesome ones among those. What can I add? Probably nothing.
I read NEVER LET ME GO as a consequence of belonging to a book club that meets monthly at a local Barnes & Noble store. My wife --- we've been married forty-one years --- recommended it to the group. My wife's been recently reading extensively --- not that she hasn't always --- but more so now because she has chronic cancer. The malignancy, and her treatments for it, keep her down. She can't do the physical activities she used to, so she spends time in less intensive physical activities, like reading. So whereas she used to get a daily physical workout, now her mind gets an extra rigorous one.
My wife found this list: the 1001 novels you should read before you die. This book was the first one on it. She hadn't read it, so she did some research, found data indicating it had been awarded various prizes, given much merit, and had favorable reviews from people on Goodreads, Amazon, and the like. So she recommended that the group read it. Among other suggestions by others, her recommendation won out.
I'm very glad we read it. It is well written, thought-provoking, and, to me, haunting. It is a treatise on morality and ethics blended into a tender, moving, and heartrending story. It was subtly done, not at all jarring or didactic. It seemed kind of like adding exactly the right amount of garlic to a roasting chicken, one that once cooked tastes scrumptious so you want your fill, but you're prevented from doing so.
The novel presents the story of that one wish --- never, as a human being, to be let go of --- which is quite universal. I think everyone wishes to have someone in life who will stick with them to the end, who will always hang on and hang out with them. I remember easily it's main characters: TOMMY D., RUTH, and KATHY H.
KATHY H. is the novel's narrator and protagonist. She reminisces about her youth, growing up in an institution, Hailsham --- a sham of an institution. For Hailsham imposes, we learn as we read through the novel, through subtle manipulation, the ultimate hell upon its occupants. That they, as human clones, are considered inferior to those who are not cloned. They must accept the responsibility to sacrifice themselves, their very lives, as, perhaps, for a while, "carers", and, ultimately, as "donors" by giving up needed vital organs --- their hearts, their lungs, their livers, etc. --- to humans who are not cloned. So Kathy H. as a young girl and adolescent interacts at Hailsham with her friends, Ruth and Tommy D., who then ultimately remain with her beyond Hailsham. In essence, it is Kathy H. who never lets Tommy D. and Ruth go.
Ishiguro nicely sketches out these three characters with unique features and intertwines them. While some in the group found the premise unrealistic, in my situation I found it compelling, thought-provoking, moving.4 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on October 4, 2010This tour de force almost defies categorization. Equal parts dystopian thriller, bildungsroman, penetrating psychological portrait, love story, and psychosocial examination, it is told through the context of a parallel universe. The harrowing truths of these children's lives are revealed elaborately yet with deceptive simplicity by Ishiguro. The reader isn't jolted by the science fiction aspect but rather by the emotional intensity of the exquisitely controlled narrative's unfolding. I have rarely read a book of speculative fiction that is this superbly nuanced. You could knock me over with a feather by the end of the story.
In the rural British countryside resides Hailsham, a privileged and insular boarding school with wild fields, ponds, and fences demarcating boundaries from the outside world. The story is narrated in three parts by thirty-one year-old Kathy, who reminisces about herself, Ruth, and Tommy, three friends who met there as children. It reads like a chronicle or diary, with Kathy's alchemy of naturalness, naiveté, and sublime powers of observation reminiscing almost like an open letter. As the novel opens, Kathy is reflecting on her life as a "carer" and recapitulating the many events that brought the three of them together, split them apart, and united them again.
At Hailsham, the children work diligently to produce qualifying pieces of art to get chosen for Madam's mysterious gallery. Tommy struggles to find his creativity and hold his temper, while Ruth's opinionated and ruthless decisions often overrule those of the peacemaker, Kathy. Their friendship is built on the firmament of secrets, lies and a sheltered upbringing by circumspect teachers, or "guardians." When one of these guardians deigns to reveal more than is customary to the students, she is dismissed. The children grow up learning the truth by degrees about their future lives as "carers" and "donors." Information is smuggled into lessons in a crafty way that ultimately makes them feel like it was something that they have always known.
"This might all sound daft, but you have to remember that to us, at that stage in our lives, any place beyond Hailsham was like a fantasy land; we had only the haziest notions of the world outside and about what was and wasn't possible there."
I went into this novel knowing nothing about the chilling facts of the story. I recommend that you know as little as possible, also, in order for the impact to be consummate and undiminished. Kathy's intimate tone is (ironically) oblique, giving the mournful narrative an edge and anxiety that accumulates and teases the reader through to the bittersweet conclusion.
The finale left me breathless and sobbing, and I continue to revisit the rich themes of this bleak but unexpectedly inspiriting story. What makes us human? What gives us a soul? What is the meaning of an individual life? This moving, compassionate story offers germane insights, and for this reader, will never let me go.
Addendum: After finishing the book, I watched the movie trailer. Wow--talk about spoiler spoiler spoiler. It highlighted just about everything that is wrong with Hollywood. What the trailer does is bluntly give away what Ishiguro masterfully reveals gradually, by suggestion. That is what makes Ishiguro such a genius in this work. The movie trailer felt absurdly like it was undermining the beauty of the book by dismantling the exalted subtlety of the narrative and replacing it with obvious and heavy-handed cues. My fear is that the movie will fail to be vigilantly discreet and will instead induce horror conspicuously.36 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on January 2, 2014This book moves slowly, slowly, and we wait for moments of revelation that should be accompanied by sudden passion, emotion, but instead the things that get real humans fired up are set down like soft pillows in such a way that the reader is denied the experience we seek in fiction.
Much attention is given to small, ponderous details, and the larger questions are merely hinted at. In addition, the main characters are strangely passive. You could argue that it's conditioning, but those in similar positions in history - for example, slaves - always rose up. Donors could have threatened suicide, banded together, tried to escape. If they look like everyone else, couldn't they have tried to slip into regular society? Something, anything but what they do - just watch passively and accepting everything as fate. The only thing that comes close is their asking for a 'deferral', but it didn't come close enough.
Much like 'The Remains of the Day'. I am still trying to see what people see in this book. There are many dystopian novels vividly painted that portray horrific realities; there's nothing original about sci-fi involving the moral complexity of cloning. Only those who are unfamiliar with the vast genre of literary-quality sci-fi feel that a book is of value merely for coming up with such an idea. More is needed. Unfortunately we don't get it.
Stylistically, there's nothing to keep one reading but plot, as the language is not exceptional or beautiful. Compare it to Cormac McCarthy's language, for example, which is worthy of being read out of context for its own right; even if I hated his book's topic I'd be compelled onward by the language itself. At least in 'Never Let Me Go' the language is clearly edited, clean and clear, but as someone who loves literary fiction and poetry I notice a strong absence of complex structure, imagery, or poetic rhythm. It's plain, plain words, but without the effect of Hemingway, to the extent that even a dedicated reader begins to skim, then skip ahead. Only at the end did I begin to hope it would get good, that the meat of the novel would finally be revealed. Perhaps, I thought, he'll bring something out like a bomb, so shattering, that its contrast from the dullness of the rest of the book will give it heightened impact.
No such luck.
Passive fatalism is dull, and people who are like sheep aren't the ones I want to read about, identify with, or ponder. Worlds without any cracks in the seams at all - a student who escapes? A teacher who tries to shelter the students? - such worlds are colorless. And the guardians fall flat. Why not bring them to life, have one who always wanted kids accept the clones as her substitute children, or something, anything to show us who they are, really, what their motivations are.
Not to mention ludicrous aspects that real sci-fi genre authors are forced by alert readers to address. Like, how do people walk and have sex while missing 2-3 of their main vital organs? I think one donation should be enough to end a life - vital organs aren't called 'vital' for no reason.
There's a whole world left out that we could have witnessed. Have them view clones growing in tanks, have an actual sighting of a 'possible', explain biologically why they are unable to reproduce if they have all the same organs as us - are they fully human duplicates? Or have they been altered not to have reproductive organs? Or just sterilized? Finding out these things one by one would be an interesting experience.
Except, the character have so little curiosity. Yes, we get that people tend to accept whatever system they are raised in as the norm and not question. But not everyone. Someone always wonders. And once it's all out in the open, and they are coupled up and in love on the farm, you'd think there'd be some real discussion, self-questioning (are we human?), us vs. them, clone power!, let's get the heck out of Dodge. Seriously.And if they look just like everyone else, why wouldn't they try to escape, or go exploring - are we seriously to believe they have freedom to go for long car rides and they just follow rules? Shouldn't they be tattoed or something, have a mark on their forehead to distinguish them from the 'normal' humans? In many ways I found this book unbelievable, and the first rule of sci-fi is that it must, however fantastic, create a believable dream a la Neuromancer. This book doesn't.
All the author does is paint a situation.
I prefer books where the character inside the painted situation actually do something, and we get to go along for the ride.
With this book, all we do is get in a car going 20, and watch it accelerate to 25 on a flat stretch of unmarked highway. On a cloudy day. Not my idea of a literary masterpiece. Not even close.
Still, for writers the book is worth reading as a guide of what NOT to do. For everyone else, just watch the movie, or better yet, skip both and do something more enlightening.27 people found this helpfulReportHelpful
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From the United States
- 6 people found this helpfulHelpful
- Reviewed in the United States on August 27, 2011This book was not finished with me when I was finished with it.
When I closed it, I would have rated it 4 stars. The tone is massively controlled, the story chilling, the surface perfectly developed. There is no overt passion in the tale, no histrionics under circumstances that justify them, no stated argument. Ishiguro's mastery of words and control of the page is so impressively beyond most writer's skill that four stars seemed required, but I felt distanced from the characters. The chill, the blandness of the characters' existence, was almost disappointing.
But by then, the book was in my mind, and with a little time (I don't think quickly), the accomplishment seems nearly staggering. The lessons and insights are parallels for so many facets of society -- perhaps any society, not merely Western -- that the author's accomplishment seems so much more than the chill tale of cloning. The imagined society posits that cloning is a normal process in which clones are grown as an answer to medical need, and thus the children's life is seen by them -- and all but a few of their guardians (their lawmakers)-- as utterly natural. They go through each step of their life without rebellion. The closest they come is to eye a derelict boat, which is unable to sail away. Their acceptance of their fate is never questioned: they may want a deferral, but never think their eventual end is avoidable. The only characters who truly suffer are the guardians at Hailsham -- and we are told that Hailsham was unique. The conflict within the book is that the children assume they have souls and the larger world assumes they do not. Hailsham is a experiment to prove the existence of a spark of the divine, to prove a soul--and it fails. If Hailsham fails, how can any of us prove that we are unique, valuable, worth preserving? Isn't that the reason for Art? If Art does not do it, what can?
My ruminating took me to the existential literature of the late 1950-60s, where writers began what we now call 'railing against the machine'. 'Never Let Me Go' becomes a parable for nearly any circumstance where we accept, without particular thought, the circumstances of our lives. The underlying consideration here, though, is larger.
With Ishiguro's book, we come to realize how the banal doesn't disguise horror -- it simply does not consider it. The parallels become endless: fascism -- or any convinced movement or system of belief (Tea Party or Al Qaeda) where the underlying premise is unquestioned by the faithful. It need not be an extreme doxology, or marginal belief system. The acceptance of and submission to a fixed and certain set of beliefs is the horror. Social certainty allows inhumane, soulless behavior. In this there is a link to 'Remains of the Day,' Ishiguro's perhaps more accessible effort on much the same theme.
Ishiguro is not the first to identify the ability of a society to make evil banal (someone, I can't remember who, made the same comment about Naziism) but I can't think of anyone who brings that chill so completely into the bones of the reader.
This is a 5 star book based on my criteria of technical skills (the author's control is astonishing and becomes part of the message), thematic complexity, and whether or not it moves me. That last is completely subjective, but it took me days to warm back up. Highly recommended.2 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on September 9, 2010Never Let Me Go is told in the first person narrative and this establishes a kind of intimacy between Kathy and the reader. Only when Kathy offers up information or explanations of what is happening in her life and her world, does the reader have the ability to see the plot and recognize the twisted sci-fi story that is unfolding. Kathy almost speaks in code and slowly reveals to the reader in bits and pieces what is occurring in her life and the value of her relationships. It is not until the very end that everything falls into place and the reader can see the whole picture. This was book was fabulous.
The plot, although revealed over the course of the entire book, was fantastic. At first I was aggravated as I felt I understood nothing that Kathy was explaining, but I grew to enjoy my planned ignorance, feed off the craving for more information and celebrate my gradual realization. The story was told in a continual series of flash backs and references to the present that jumped back and forth repetitively. Some parts I lost patience with the long winded set-ups to random stories and anecdotes, but the desire to know what was going to happen always drove me to continue on.
I would hate to ruin the plot for anyone who choose to read it, because coming to understand the plot is the purpose and journey of the entire book. However, if you don't care... here is the story. Kathy, Ruth, and Tommy, the three main characters, are from a school set up to raise clone children for the sole purpose of harvesting their organs for other people. The students are sheltered and brainwashed into accepting their roles as donors and never rebel against their purpose in life. There is a bit of a love triangle, but it is so real and raw that it reflects reality rather than a romantic love story. Kathy has feelings for Tommy and vice-versa, but Kathy holds back as Ruth and Tommy have a relationship despite Ruth's crude attitude and indifference. Not until after Ruth has apologized for keeping the two apart and finished her donations does Kathy and Tommy get together. It is a shame as Tommy is almost finished with his donations as well, and the two have little time to enjoy their relationship. Kathy and Tommy go in search of answers about their lives and come to find the reason for their creation and the inevitability of their early deaths. The acceptance of their donations and completion of their live is eerie and questionsable, but the characters never falter. The last few pages show Kathy reflecting upon her life, relationships, and her own donor completion.
I greatly enjoyed this and can't wait for the movie adaptation. Ishiguro has other famous and award winning books and I look forward to reading them as well.2 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on July 3, 2025Maybe I did myself a disservice by reading reviews prior to reading this book. Even though this book wasn’t too long it seemed to drag on to get to the point that many people summarized in a few sentences on Goodreads. It’s an interesting concept at least.ReportHelpful
- Reviewed in the United States on December 24, 2010I read this book for my book club and we also went to see the movie, which I thought was much better than the book. Almost everything good about the book the movie did at least as well, and one thing it did far better was the first kiss between Kathy and Tommy, which in the book is an off-putting sex scene in which his genitalia is described as "junk," but in the movie is sweet and romantic and PG-13 and now I have a crush on Andrew Garfield. Furthermore I'd remarked to my friends that the movie "inspired me to consider bangs."
Movie aside, here's what the book does well: the first thing to notice is the voice of the narrator Kathy. They actually capture her kind of sedate, placid narration well in the movie too but her round about narration of the events invites you to join her ranks as someone who is "told but not told," although since you're the reader you are the whole time wondering what the mystery is. In contrast, the characters of the book don't wonder so much about the mystery of their lives so much as the question of whether or not they're able to just delay their doom.
Unlike many dystopian stories that invite us to compare the main injustice of the society with injustices occurring in our current society, the emphasis on this book seems to be the reaction of the clones in this book to their destinies. What I mean is that normally in a dystopian story the thing that makes it dystopian, the idea of cloning someone and taking their organs, or the idea of editing people's use of language (1984), is the main point of the book, telling us we should look in our own society for places of exploitation of some small group of people for the benefit of the majority, or for censure, etc. I didn't get that from this book at all, which surprised my expectations of the dystopian genre. It seemed like the clone thing was thematically irrelevant and distracting, a red herring for the main point, which is that people miss out on chances to love, and there's always a sense of loss, especially lost time, lost love, and people hope to just delay that loss but they don't fight its inevitability. Ruth was excellently drawn and her land-mine filled dialogues with everyone revealed Ishiguro's understanding of the subtly mean, jealous aspects of human nature. The portrayal of Tommy was confusing and weird. He seemed like an autistic, unknowable ghost until Garfield brought him to life in the movie. I get the sense that Ishiguro is obsessed with the idea of love that is lost for no good reason, because people are too weak or fearful or docile to go for it, that Tommy as a character made so little sense because Ishiguro didn't really have a concrete object in mind for his lost love, just the idea that it was missing. In the movie they include a scene where Tommy begins to scream and I think this makes a lot of sense in terms of finally acknowledging the injustice of the clone thing but this whole closure is absent from the book. Anyway I'd recommend the book for anyone who wants to keep on top of what's hot in literature these days.5 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on January 15, 2018This book was quite interesting. I had a love/hate relationship with it due to the fact that the secrets and pivotal information was divulged slowly throughout the book. That definitely made me want to keep reading but at the same time it took me a long time to start connecting the dots about why the things were the way there were for this narrator.
Everything about this narrator's world was odd and had a obvious disturbing vibe to it. What is even more terrifying is that I can see this happening in our future with the rapid advancements in technology. If that day comes, our values and morals will be put to the test when we try to define what is ethical and what is not.
Now,
*SPOILERS*
This story reminded me of the animal agriculture industry in a lot of ways. We refuse to know what's going on when it comes to how meat and dairy products reach our plates so we put up walls and gates to hide us from the terrible truth.
In this scenario, clones have been created to harvest anything and everything from their bodies in order to save "real humans" from dying from diseases. About maybe 60% through the book, I started to understand what was happening. These 'students' were being raised for slaughter. The narrator was lucky to actually have somewhat of a "normal" upbringing while others were in far worse conditions.
It scares me to think that this could happen. These students had feelings, emotions, intelligence, etc. yet were treated like animals being ready to be killed. They were taught at a very young age that they would be donators. Everything about it was normalized in a way they didn't see it as problem. They believed that's how it has always been and nothing is wrong with it. They even have the students be the care takers for the donors because no one wants to see the suffering and pain the donors have to go through. How messed up is that?
I also found the relationships hard to swallow. What they thought of as friendships and love, were not anywhere near it. However, that's all they've known. Any difficult or deep conversation was immediately shunned so surface conversation was the only acceptable way to communicate. I thought Kath and Ruth's friendship was toxic in a lot of ways. It was almost as if they didn't know how to treat a friend. The one great example that I saw was in the Cottages. Ruth had two identities: the one that completely ignored Kath and Tommy and desired attention from the veterans and then the one that sat with Kath at night, spilling secrets and such. I think this is why Kath remained friends with her even though Ruth treated her so terribly. Her whole life she had to constantly filter herself but in those hours of sipping tea with no filter, it gave her some sort of relief. It allowed her to be a more truer form of herself.
Overall, I thought the book was incredibly mind provoking. I wish there was a happy ending but ultimately, we only receives answers rather than Kath, Tommy, and Ruth riding off into the sunset.107 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on June 21, 2008This is a fine book, carefully written, with a disturbing social commentary that underlies a narrative that is primarily about human relationships. It would not necessarily be appropriate to classify this book as science fiction yet it is oddly futuristic and certainly is a commentary on the ability to create clones of humans and then to harvest the organs of the clones over time through a series of transplant operations. This aspect of the story gradually reveals itself through the lives, experiences, and relationships between three young people; Kathy, Ruth, and Tommy.
These three young people were reared in a special school that educated the clones in the arts, music, sports, and basic education. Hailsham seems to be a progressive educational institution, yet because critical information is not fully revealed to the young people at Hailsham, multiple plots and conspiracies develop in the minds of the young people. The book thus explores the social bonds and relationships that develop among parentless children. Not having parents means that the teachers in the school, the Guardians, are the only real adult role models for the kids. Therefore the kids form cliques and groups that include or exclude others and develop a society and social structure similar to that seen in middle schools across the nation. Some kids are in and some kids are out. Ruth is a struggler to remain always in the right crowd. Tommy is explosive and transparent and thus is usually a victim and is considered to be on the outside. Kathy is an introspective reflective loner who forms bonds with Ruth and Tommy, whom she carefully observes and understands. Eventually the characters graduate from Hailsham and move to the Cottages which appear to be for high-school and college age clones, awaiting training first as carers and then as donors. Other clones were not as lucky where little resources were expended on them and they were expected to begin making organ donations upon reaching biological adulthood.
The futuristic medical establishment is never revealed and the teachers for the clones and the doctors and nurses who harvest the organs never refer to the large medical infrastructure that would support such a system as this book implies.
The book focuses more on the creation of family among those who have no family and the subtle nuances of tone, body language, choice of phrase that all imply how far we are into or out of a relationship with another. At this, the novel soars and is far more an anatomy of relationships than it was an anatomy of the body organs that these young folks eventually willingly give up as their fate in life. Beautifully written, this book is of the highest merit.4 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on September 20, 2021A strange, futuristic time that is now. A world too much like ours and too easy to comprehend. Characters who are us but not us. Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro, published in 2005, is difficult to review without spoiling what ought to be a slow reveal for the reader. I have no intention of spoiling anything here. The novel was praised by critics, who called it “graceful and grim,” “an elegant nightmare of a novel,” and “Gothic.” It has been referred to as “science-fiction,” though in most ways it is nothing like science fiction.
It is a moral tale about science and the soul, set in a private school in the English countryside, where the children are told repeatedly that they are special. But they are not told why. They are not told much of anything that matters, and therein lies the beautiful, slow reveal for the reader. I’m tempted to compare the novel to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, but without the Monster. The setting and the story are immediately Kafkaesque, with teachers who are called Guardians and frequent references to a vague future that includes donors and carers.
Ishiguro opens the novel with, “My name is Kathy H. I’m thirty-one years old, and I’ve been a carer now for over eleven years.” Eleven years is a long time to be a carer, and she plans on continuing as a carer only until the end of the year. Kathy H. begins her tale when they were all very young, perhaps kindergarten age, and moves easily back and forth through time. She narrates the story in a calm, analytical voice that never wavers. It’s one of the things that make me think of Kafka. Kathy H. is in total control of the narrative, and her tone seems authoritative. But the reader soon begins to suspect that her interpretation of events is limited, at times unreliable.
Never Let Me Go is a love story. The narrative centers on the age-old dilemma of three close friends—Kathy, Tommy, and Ruth—a dominating personality, and desire. Ishiguro takes an insightful and sometimes disturbing look at childhood and innocence, adulthood and deception. He engenders a sense of otherness and alienation between the reader and the characters that grows slowly into a deep identification. Love and loss become the vehicles for an unnerving exploration of morality, being, humanness, purpose, and power.
A sure indication of how well Ishiguro works his magic for me was the experience of going back, after finishing the novel, and reading again the first page. When I turned back again to that beginning, after growing to love the characters and feeling the power of their stoic acquiescence, it sent a little trill of surprise up my spine.2 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on April 15, 2012"Never Let Me Go" is a book I couldn't stop reading, and one I'm not going to be able to stop thinking about for quite some time. On the surface it can almost come off as a simple love triangle, although the circumstances obviously make the story so much more; and beyond the story itself, the moral and societal issues brought up in the book are hardly the kind of thing you can sweep under the rug after reading the last page. The story of Kathy, Ruth and Tommy is a centuries-old one: two girls, one boy, love, uncertainty and betrayal. On its own there is nothing particularly noteworthy about the triangle between these three young adults; it's the dark secret that underlies their very existence which makes this story so compelling.
You see, Kathy, Ruth and Tommy aren't just your average lovelorn teenagers; they each have an important and specific purpose which they absolutely cannot escape or deviate from. It is this purpose, what it means and how they gradually come to terms with it, which sets their love triangle apart from all others. Each of their decisions and reactions takes on much more weight and importance than you might otherwise find. It is the contrast of this simple and recognizable story set in such amongst such utterly disturbing circumstances that makes it so powerful, and so impossible for the reader to put down.
Ishiguro proves that he is a master storyteller with "Never Let Me Go." It's clear from the very first sentence that there is something not quite right about the world that our narrator Kathy H. belongs to, but Ishiguro (and Kathy) take their time revealing exactly what that disconnect is. This exquisite restraint is what keeps the reader going, what causes a frisson every few pages, and what makes the careful reader look closely at every seemingly innocent event, every mysterious character, and every curious choice of words.
One of the things that struck this careful reader most strongly by the end of the book was the way vocabulary is almost hijacked by those in power to keep the powerless from rebelling. There is nothing so effective as using a victim's own language to induce pain, confusion, and submission. The book begins, for example, with this: "My name is Kathy H. I'm thirty-one years old, and I've been a carer now for over eleven years... My donors have always tended to do much better than expected... hardly any of them have been classified as `agitated,' even before fourth donation." If all of this subversive and incomplete talk of "carers", "donors" and eventually of "completing" doesn't disturb you then there's something wrong. Before the meaning had been revealed I shuddered every time I read the word "Completing;" once I knew for sure what it meant I had to hold back tears every time it cropped up in the story.
"Never Let Me Go" is both hard to read and too easy to read, all at the same time. It's an extremely uncomfortable book that tells a story so important and compelling that it is impossible to put down.10 people found this helpfulReportHelpful - Reviewed in the United States on June 5, 2005There are some novels so intense that you are unable to read anything else immediately. NEVER LET ME GO is such a book. Reading this extremely well-written but devastating novel is a deeply emotional and troubling experience that will break your heart if you let it. The plot is such that the less said about it,the better, as there are many surprises along the way for the uninformed reader. A friend of mine sent me an e-mail saying something to the effect that "I'm reading the new Ishiguro novel. It's about___________." I'll never know then when I would have figured out what was happening nor will I ever know both the joy and shock of my own discovery. (I had the same experience with the movie THE CRYING GAME a few years ago when a gay reviewer gave the plot away so "other gay people" would not miss the movie.) So do not read reviews that are plot summaries and do not let your friends tell you about what happens either.
The story is told by a first person thirty-one-year-old narrator whose name is Kathy H. We never know her last name or the last names of any of the other characters or even if they have last names. The narrator recounts her years as a child in Hailsham, a private school in England and her friendship with two other children, Ruth and Tommy, who also were at that school. You will remember these three tragic characters long after you've finished reading the novel.
Mr. Ishiguro's transparent prose and pretty much without adjectives or other modifiers, but then he does tell a straight-forward tale most visceral. He raises questions about the ethics of scientific experiments and comments about the brevity of life, how utterly futile it is for friends to bicker and hold grudges. He also asks how much adults should warn children about what life has to offer them, how much should we shelter them from the real world, the loneliness of being different, the uncrossable gulf between the sick and the well, missed opportunities, how the smallest whiff of hope sustains us, the beauty of friendship and lasting love-- and finally, a sweet thought-- that the dead never leave us as long as we remember them. In a poignant passage the narrator remembers Tommy: "I half-closed my eyes and imagined this was the spot where everything I'd ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was now standing here in front of it, and if I waited long enough, a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field, and gradually get larger until I'd see it was Tommy, and he's wave, maybe even call. The fantasy never got beyond that-- I didn't let it--and though the tears rolled down my face, I wasn't sobbing or out of control. I just waited a bit, then turned back to the car, to drive off to wherever it was I was suuposed to be."
You will not read a novel like this one again. It certain will be nominated for a Booker Prize.24 people found this helpfulReportHelpful
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