The Remains of the Day & Never Let Me Go:
-Kazuo Ishiguro
Just finished reading ‘The Remains of the Day,’ 1989’s winner of the Booker Prize. This is the second book I’ve read by author Kazuo Ishiguro (born in Japan but moved to England when he was about 5) and it hasn’t clarified for me whether or not I’m a fan of his. The other book I read of his, ‘Never Let Me Go’ was certainly an interesting topic (I’m excited to see the film being made) however I recall thinking throughout my time reading it, ‘where on earth is this going?’ The book is set in England, presumably in the future, and is about children who are born only to be used as organ donors—their future set to soon die. With that book there was, at least, a rather imminent tone that had me continue reading just to see what would come next. However, by the end of the book I was left feeling perplexed as to what was the point of it all.
Now here I am at the end of reading his most famous book and I am similarly puzzled. It isn’t that I didn’t enjoy the book and it was in fact rather easy reading. But I can’t say that I loved it. It is written from the mind of a traditional old-fashioned English butler who is taking a road trip and, throughout the trip, looking back on the life he and his employers have lived. He often addresses the reader as if we are also butlers or some sort of person serving others—or more I suppose simply that we are also people of little consequence and what impact does he or any of us have on the world. Once again I am left wondering what was the point of it all…perhaps that is precisely the question Ishiguro desire’s his readers to think—I’m unsure. Being written as they were I was unable to pull many delicious quotes out to share so here are the few that I did. Hope you enjoy.
*I keep thinking about this river somewhere, with the water moving really fast. And these two people in the water, trying to hold onto each other, holding on as hard as they can, but in the end it’s just too much. The current’s too strong. They’ve got to let go, drift apart. That’s how I think it is with us. It’s a shame because we’ve loved each other all our lives. But in the end, we can’t stay together forever.( Never Let Me Go)
The rest of the quotes will be from ‘The Remains of the Day’
*I am quite prepared to believe that other countries can offer more obviously spectacular scenery. Indeed, I have seen encyclopedias and the National Geographic Magazine breathtaking photographs of sights from various corners of the globe; magnificent canyons and waterfalls, raggedly beautiful mountains. It has never been my privilege to have seen such things at first hand, but I will nevertheless hazard this with some confidence: the English landscape at its finest—such as I saw it this morning—possesses a quality that the landscapes of other nations, however more superficially dramatic, inevitably fail to possess. It is, I believe, a quality that will mark out the English landscape to any objective observer as the most deeply satisfying in the world, and this quality is probably best summed up by the term ‘greatness’. We call this land of ours Great Britain, and there may be those of you who believe this is a somewhat immodest practice. Yet I would venture that the landscape of our country alone would justify the use of this lofty adjective.
*I would say that it is the very lack of obvious drama or spectacle that sets the beauty of our land apart. What is pertinent is the calmness of that beauty, its sense of restraint. It is as though the land knows of its own beauty, of its own greatness, and feels no need to shout it. In comparison, the sorts of sights offered in such places as Africa and America, though undoubtedly very exciting, would, I am sure, strike the objective viewer as inferior on account of their unseemly demonstrativeness.
*It is sometimes said that butlers only truly exist in England. Continentals are unable to be butlers because they are as a breed incapable of the emotional restraint which only the English race are capable of. Continentals are as a rule unable to control themselves in moments of strong emotion, and are thus unable to maintain a professional demeanour other than in the least challenging of situations. In a word, ‘dignity’ is beyond such persons. We English have an important advantage over foreigners in this respect.
*I was so fond of that view from the second-floor bedrooms overlooking the lawn with the downs visible in the distance. Is it still like that? On summer evenings there was a sort of magical quality to that view and I will confess to you now I used to waste many precious minutes standing at one of those windows just enchanted by it.
*Miss Kenton, if you are under the impression you have already at your age perfected yourself, you will never rise to the heights you are no doubt capable of.
*We are all much too complacent about the great wonders that surround us. I mean all this we’ve been talking about; treaties and boundaries and reparations and occupations. But Mother Nature just carries on her own sweet way. I wonder if it wouldn’t have been better if the Almighty had created us all as—well—as sort of plants. You know, firmly embedded in the soil. Then none of this rot about wars and boundaries would have come up in the first place.
*Dignity isn’t just something gentlemen have. Dignity’s something every man and woman in this country can strive for and get. That’s what we fought Hitler for, after all. If Hitler had had things his way, we’d just be slaves now. The whole world would be a few masters and millions upon millions of slaves. And I don’t need to remind anyone here, there’s no dignity to be had in being a slave. We won the right to be free citizens.
*You’ve got to enjoy yourself. The evening’s the best part of the day. You’ve done your day’s work. Now you can put your feet up and enjoy it. You should adopt a more positive outlook and try to make the best of what remains of the day. After all, what can we ever gain in forever looking back and blaming ourselves if our lives have not turned out quite as we might have wished? The hard reality is, surely, that for the likes of you and I, there is little choice other than to leave our fate, ultimately, in the hands of those great gentlemen at the hub of this world who employ our services. What is the point in worrying oneself too much about what one could or could not have done to control the course one’s life took.
*It is curious how people can build such warmth among themselves so swiftly. Perhaps it is indeed time I began to look at this whole matter of bantering more enthusiastically. After all, when one thinks about it, it is not such a foolish thing to indulge in—particularly if it is the case that in bantering lies the key to human warmth.
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