Thursday, January 5, 2012

A journal entry: Never Let Me Go

Mr. Frankum handed me Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro yesterday morning, and I didn't put it down until ten o' clock that same night. One of the great things about that book is that it was so deceptive in its presentation - the cover gave nothing away, and neither did the title or the description on the back. It was all very vague. In fact, the entire novel was so controlled that I did not even know really what was going on until I was nearly two-thirds through the novel. What was truly going on crept up on me slowly, like a chill that starts at your feet and seeps down into your bones until you can't stop shivering. I'd say more about it here, but what made the story so beautiful and harrowing was the fact that it was so controlled. Each scene unfolded with such deliberate precision. When I read writing like that, it remins me so much of what makes literature a true art form. There's real patience there, and stark intelligence. One of the recurring pieces of advice I often hear in my experiences with creative writing classes is to take something you admire from each book/short story/what have you and copy it. Not plagiarism, but the technique. The precision with which Ishiguro unleashed each chapter of Never Let Me Go was so powerful. It was deceptively simple in style, and it wasn't until I turned the last page and broke down in tears that I truly appreciated it for everything that it was. When done right, writing can be so moving. This was a masterpiece. I'm not sure what else to say beyond that, just because I'm still in awe over the whole thing. After I read a particularly affecting piece, it takes a few days for everything to sink in, and often a couple weeks to mull it over even more, examining parts that still stick out in my mind, seeing them in new ways and deriving meaning from them. I think this whole ability a good author has, to change a person in this way with something they have created, is what makes writing such a powerful tool. This book asks the questions we hesitate to say out loud. It explores, so gently, the blurred ethics of science and medicine in a way that took my breath away. It's a world not too far from our own, one that is entirely possible. And in a way, it made me realize how much I love the people that I do, and miss them for reasons I can't really explain.

2 comments:

  1. All of Ishiguro hits me in the gut like this. Some say Never Let Me Go is scifi. That's too simple for me. It touches the tiny cold spot in everyone's soul, the part we don't want to get bigger, and tweaks it. I think I need to reread The Remains of the Day now.

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  2. I am thinking that is it too soon to have digested Never Let Me Go. I thought about it all summer, and still am not sure what to say. The best I could do was hear what Mr Frankum had to say about it, since he is a writer. It helped. Still working through it. You could write another post later if you needed to...

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