H
Hildegarda
Guest
Have just read "Never let me go" by Kazuo Ishiguro. It is a work of fiction which explores a dystopian theme of subtle and insidious subjugation of a group of people to the needs of cold, efficient society.
The best review, IMO, had been published by Slate (warning: spoiler alert)
\\\http://slate.msn.com/id/2116040
This book is a look at a dystopia and it's moral problems from the inside of it. The system is rigid yet nebulous and comes through as a given. We never find out the full extent of what's going on, the same way as it is impossible to figure out the shape of the building while being locked inside. Because of that, no attempts are made by either the characters or the author to bring up, let alone question, the inherent inhumanity of the system. Instead they are resigned to total acceptance -- the kind of acceptance without SEEing, which manifest in bending before the inevitable. They concentrate on minute details of their lives, observing fragile beauty of things, happenings and relationships, and completing their predestined paths properly -- essentially, dying with dignity.
Ends up, this is probably the best approach to make people wonder about the extent of their own "invisible boxes", as the review says. I could never figure what keeps the protagonists in the school and later in their line of work. There seemingly are neither barbed-wire fences nor laws against them, so why don't they just bolt, I kept wondering.
But, the reader can see very well what binds them to their destiny. One is ignorance, and it is made worse by a ostensibly "humane" way they are raised. Their environment is made safe, in a very infantile way of thinking about safety: cozyness, orderliness, rituals, strict mother figures, i.e., English nursery morphed into a ideal boarding school. From early childhood, they are always given just a little too much information for their understanding. The result is that they feel they have always been on some level aware of what will happen to them, but can never put it together, because it's hazy and lacks crucial details for making connections. As a result, they accept it unquestioningly. So much for the "ignorance is bliss". Of course they still feel the "terror of the situation" -- it comes out in the games they play, in their jokes, the temper tantrums etc -- but there's so much "noise" that those signals blend in perfectly and are impossible to tease out. The other thing that keeps them bound is relationships, being used to banding together, forming cliques, feeling that one clique is superior to another, holding on to "friends" who are not really that friendly simply because there is nobody else and nothing else to do -- all while the time is slipping away. All of this hits uncomfortably close to home.
It is not an action story. It starts out so ominous, you keep expecting the plot to thicken, but it never does. Yet, that serves to underscore the brutality of the situation. So while it may seem too sedate for some people, it gives itself well to slow, reflective reading.
The best review, IMO, had been published by Slate (warning: spoiler alert)
\\\http://slate.msn.com/id/2116040
This book is a look at a dystopia and it's moral problems from the inside of it. The system is rigid yet nebulous and comes through as a given. We never find out the full extent of what's going on, the same way as it is impossible to figure out the shape of the building while being locked inside. Because of that, no attempts are made by either the characters or the author to bring up, let alone question, the inherent inhumanity of the system. Instead they are resigned to total acceptance -- the kind of acceptance without SEEing, which manifest in bending before the inevitable. They concentrate on minute details of their lives, observing fragile beauty of things, happenings and relationships, and completing their predestined paths properly -- essentially, dying with dignity.
Ends up, this is probably the best approach to make people wonder about the extent of their own "invisible boxes", as the review says. I could never figure what keeps the protagonists in the school and later in their line of work. There seemingly are neither barbed-wire fences nor laws against them, so why don't they just bolt, I kept wondering.
But, the reader can see very well what binds them to their destiny. One is ignorance, and it is made worse by a ostensibly "humane" way they are raised. Their environment is made safe, in a very infantile way of thinking about safety: cozyness, orderliness, rituals, strict mother figures, i.e., English nursery morphed into a ideal boarding school. From early childhood, they are always given just a little too much information for their understanding. The result is that they feel they have always been on some level aware of what will happen to them, but can never put it together, because it's hazy and lacks crucial details for making connections. As a result, they accept it unquestioningly. So much for the "ignorance is bliss". Of course they still feel the "terror of the situation" -- it comes out in the games they play, in their jokes, the temper tantrums etc -- but there's so much "noise" that those signals blend in perfectly and are impossible to tease out. The other thing that keeps them bound is relationships, being used to banding together, forming cliques, feeling that one clique is superior to another, holding on to "friends" who are not really that friendly simply because there is nobody else and nothing else to do -- all while the time is slipping away. All of this hits uncomfortably close to home.
It is not an action story. It starts out so ominous, you keep expecting the plot to thicken, but it never does. Yet, that serves to underscore the brutality of the situation. So while it may seem too sedate for some people, it gives itself well to slow, reflective reading.
