"A Pale View of Hills" by Kazuo Ishiguro

Kazuo Ishiguro is a stellar writer and storyteller. I don't think I've ever found cause to complain about the style or quality of his writing. This book was no exception, and I really enjoyed reading it, but... I may have to reread it to fully understand it. And even if I do reread it, I'm not convinced I'd figure everything out. It's a Choose Your Own Interpretation book. This isn't the first book I've compared to a puzzle, but I think this one was actually more like a box containing jigsaw pieces from half a dozen different puzzles, none of them complete. 

This is a dual-timeline story, narrated by Etsuko, a Japanese woman living in England around the time the book was written (1982). Some of the (more minor) action is in the present, consisting mostly of Etsuko's conversations with her younger daughter who lives with her friends in London, but the emphasis is on the other timeline: one hot summer in Nagasaki, not too long after its destruction in the bombing. The focus of that summer was Sachiko, single mother to ten-year-old Mariko, and the time Etsuko spent with them. There are plot elements hinted at but never clearly explained (who was Mariko's father, and what happened to him? How did Etsuko's marriage to Jiro end?) but those questions pale in comparison to those raised in the last few pages: Just what is the meaning of the parallels between Etsuko and Sachiko, and those between Mariko and Etsuko's older daughter, Keiko? And, perhaps less pressing but still unanswered, what was the story behind the brief spate of child killings?

It's not surprising (considering the author) that the plot holes were intentional. (I don't say this because Ishiguro is known for plot holes, by any means; rather, I'm suggesting that he's much too careful a writer to end up with unintentional results.) As evidence, here's an excerpt from an interview:

"In A Pale View of Hills, I was trying something rather odd with the narrative. The main strategy was to leave a big gap. It's about a Japanese woman, Etsuko, who is exiled in Britain in middle age, and there's a certain area of her life that's very painful to her. It has something to do with her coming over to the West and the effect it has on her daughter, who subsequently commits suicide. She talks all around it, but she leaves that as a gap. Instead, she tells another story altogether, going back years and talking about somebody she once knew. So the whole narrative strategy of the book was about how someone ends up talking about things they cannot face directly through other people's stories. I was trying to explore that type of language, how people use the language of self-deception and self-protection."

You can find a really great discussion of varying interpretations of this book here. Obviously you don't want to follow that link if you don't want spoilers. 

"The Remains of the Day" by Kazuo Ishiguro

I feel really behind the times, only just now reading this book. It's not like one of those hundred-year-old classics where any time in your life is acceptable for reading it (as long as you finally do); this is a classic of my own lifetime. Why didn't I read it sooner?

Once again I was amazed--though by this time I'm no longer surprised--by the exquisite precision of Ishiguro's writing. Not a word out of place, every phrase turned perfectly. Well, hang on, that's not entirely true. I did see two or three things (which I didn't note down, so of course I've forgotten the specifics by now) that I would have considered minor grammatical errors, but I was able to forgive them with the thoughts that 1) maybe a relatively uneducated butler, despite his pride in speech and usage, was making an honest mistake, or 2) maybe it's correct in English, just not in American. But my overall opinion still stands--Kazuo Ishiguro writes with excellence.

One of the many impressive things about this book: How is Ishiguro able to completely inhabit the mind of an English butler of the mid-20th century? Mr Stevens seems the epitome and embodiment of his kind. He thinks in a way that most people don't. Of course my next thought is to realize it's entirely possible that no butler was ever like this, with the stiffest-of-all-stiff-upper-lips--after all, this is a fictional character, and Ishiguro could have been using great exaggeration. But if so, it's only a further testament to his skill that he could do this and make it so believable.

Now I really want to see the movie. (Because, in keeping with my aforementioned behind-the-timesness, I haven't done that before, either.)

"The Buried Giant" by Kazuo Ishiguro

We read this together over the past several weeks while we were putting our littlest one to bed. I think the story suffered somewhat from the fragmentary nature of reading it in such small increments but Sam disagrees, so for the first time we're going to write a joint blog post.

SAM: I've now read all of Kazuo Ishiguro's books - he's one of my favorite writers - and this was one of his most ambitious and unusual novels. Where Never Let Me Go ventured into science-fiction territory, this is a similarly bold and risky step into fantasy. In tone, it's somewhere between Game of Thrones, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, The Lord of the Rings, and A Once and Future King. And yet it is very definitely a Kazuo Ishiguro book. It's something in his voice and in his obsessions, I think. The themes of amnesia, of an imperfect but enduring marriage, of parents separated from children, longing, sadness, hope, are all here, just as they were in When We Were Orphans, for example. But here, we are in England in the Middle Ages - just after the reign of King Arthur - instead of Hong Kong in the 1950s. I don't want to say too much about the plot because, like most Ishiguro books, it is a delicately constructed mystery with no obvious solutions, not easily reducible to a synopsis, but in spite of reading only a few pages each night (while getting our two-year-old ready for bed) I found it quietly fascinating and compelling.

KATHY: Well, I did too, of course. I'm not saying that I didn't enjoy it because we only read little bits every night. However, I am saying that the reading experience might have been improved with a better reading schedule. As it was, every evening when we picked the book up we felt a little bit lost and needed time to re-orient ourselves. Or maybe it was just the mist of Querig clouding our minds?

SAM: Yeah, I think listening to it read out loud (because Kathy was the designated reader) made it slightly more difficult for me to get my head around switches in viewpoint and jumps in the timeframe. But that would have been true for almost any book. This was also a very allusive novel - to the point where I almost wondered if it was an allegory - and had me thinking about it for days after I read it. There was one passage (the one near the end about the buried giant) where I said, 'wow, is this about ISIS?!' And Kathy said she'd just been wondering the same thing. Though of course she can't remember that now. Querig again... I do feel pretty sure the boatman would have let us go to the island together, don't you?

KATHY: I'm sure he would've, Querig or no.

Catching Up

First post of the new year! Never mind the fact that we're already midway through February. I've got to start somewhere.

Contrary to popular belief (or evidence garnered from this blog), I really have been reading over the past eight months. I just haven't gotten around to blogging very frequently. Instead, I've gotten farther and farther behind, leaving me more and more overwhelmed. (And blogging is supposed to be fun. If it's overwhelming, what's the point?)

Because of this, a wise man once told me, "You ought to publish a post of mini-reviews or you'll never blog about all of these books you've been reading," and I am finally taking his advice. So, here you will find a host of worthless mini-reviews of books I've read during the past year but have never blogged about. Yeah, unfortunately this post is more for me than for you. I just like to have a complete record of what I've read, so this won't happen again.

And so it goes:

Astrid & Veronika by Linda Olsson (a Book Club selection: I think it was Christy's)

Here's the story of two lonely Swedish women, one young and one old, who strike up an unexpected but fulfilling and healing friendship by virtue of living in houses next door to each other.

Why is my most vivid memory of this book that of Astrid and Veronika spooning with each other? I'm sure it has nothing to do with Book Club member Claire's odd experience with her college roommate. I do think, though, that it's because it seemed so unlikely and so far from something I would have done and . . . and just plain awkward.

If you read this book and have any questions about it, though, email the author! She is very friendly and will probably actually write back to you and explain whatever it is you're wondering about. She praised me for being such an attentive reader, although once I saw the answer to my question I knew that a truly attentive reader could have answered this question for herself. Oh well.

A favorite quote:

"I think that perhaps there are no such defining moments at all. Beginnings and ends are fluid, long chains of events where some links seem so insignificant and others so very momentous, while in fact all  have the same weight. What may appear as a single dramatic moment is just a link between what was before and what comes after."

The Baron in the Trees by Italo Calvino

This book was given to me by the love of my life, and for this reason alone I'm sure I would have found it fascinating--perhaps even if it had been written by Paulo Coelho. But, lucky me, it was written by Italo Calvino instead. I'm sure I need to read more of his books (If On a Winter's Night a Traveler, for instance), but this one is a great start. It's the story of an 18th century Italian family of noble descent whose older son Cosimo, at age twelve, climbs up into the trees and decides he will never come back down. Contrary to every other such decision by twelve-year-old boys the world over, he sticks with it, never again setting foot on the ground.

Dream Story by Arthur Schnitzler

The inspiration for Stanley Kubrick's film Eyes Wide Shut. The book and the film differ somewhat (of course), but I found the book intriguing and thought-provoking. Unfortunately, as I read it months and months ago, I can't remember what intrigued me about it, or what thoughts it provoked. I will venture to say it was good enough to re-read, and I would like to do that sometime in hopes that it will better stick in my mind. This shouldn't be too difficult, as it is very short.

In the Woods by Tana French (a Book Club selection: Charity's!)

This was an excellent mystery: finally, another that ranks highly on my Agatha Christie scale! The premise alone ought to grab you: Years ago, three young Irish friends went into the woods to play. Only one returned. He had no memory of what had happened that afternoon, and no one ever figured out the fate of his two friends. (That right there would be enough to snag my interest!)  But there's more: the one surviving boy grew up to be Detective Ryan, who is investigating the murder of a twelve-year-old girl whose body was found in those same woods. Is there a link between the two mysteries?

This is a suspenseful thriller with the favorable distinction of also being well-written. It is also the first in the Dublin Murder Squad series, but (although #2 sounded very interesting!) I try to avoid getting mired in a series of books. There are too many individual books waiting for me to read them!

Legends of the Fall by Jim Harrison

This book actually contained a trio of novellas ("Revenge," "The Man Who Gave Up His Name," and "Legends of the Fall"), but I picked it up because I've seen the movie made from the third novella, and I was curious to discover its original manifestation. I found it quite surprising that Legends of the Fall began as only a novella. The movie seems like such an epic! You would think it had been adapted from a thousand-pager.

Harrison has such an odd style of writing. It is rambling, resigned, almost emotionless. His stories are told in an off-hand manner, as if with a sigh. That's not necessarily a criticism, though--merely an observation. I have also read his book Returning to Earth, and I plan to read its prequel, True North.

My Fair Lazy by Jen Lancaster

"Thanks a lot, Miles Davis. You've totally ruined waffles for me."

When I read this book I was in need of something light, and this certainly fit the bill. It's not my kind of book, especially as it was written from the POV of a woman obsessed with reality TV, but I can definitely admit that it was light-hearted and funny.

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro (a Book Club selection: mine!)

I really, really liked this book and am very disappointed in myself for not writing about it last July when I read it. However (not to mention extenuating circumstances that distracted me) I'm sure I was daunted by the feeling that I had to top my last post about a book of Ishiguro's, a link to which was posted on his official facebook page! (That was an exciting day for me.)

NLMG is a strange sci-fi/coming-of-age novel which thrilled me with its slow reveal of the truth behind the lives of Tommy, Kathy and Ruth. I can't even begin to tell you how much I love books that dole out their secrets so slowly and tantalizingly.

I haven't seen the movie yet, but I plan to.

The Other by Thomas Tryon

This was a good twin/evil twin story that was somehow both banal and engrossing. I found the twins' secret easy to guess, but even so it was an entertaining read. The writing was nothing special, and I don't find it surprising that this book has been largely forgotten, but I don't regret reading it.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

Here's a book that covers nearly every teen-angst-causing issue that you can imagine (except for vampires). Drugs, drinking, homosexuality, suicide, teen sex--Wallflower has it all. But I can overlook this tiny book's attempt at being all-encompassing, because its narrator is so endearing in an awkward and quirky kind of way.

I made a note of some of his statements that were favorites of mine, Napoleon Dynamite style:

“I think it would be great if sledding were always enough, but it isn’t.”

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

"Some people use thoughts to not participate in life." (This is reflected in a review quoted at the beginning of the book: "Passivity, and thinking too much, lead to confusion and anxiety.")

"[To Kill a Mockingbird] is now my favorite book of all time, but then again, I always think that until I read another book." (What reader hasn't felt the same way before?)

"I really think that everyone should have watercolors, magnetic poetry, and a harmonica." Wouldn't it be great if life were that simple? Wait, though. I don't have magnetic poetry OR a harmonica. Maybe that is all I need?

Everyone’s heard the phrase “deer in headlights”, right? And it’s such a cliché. But here we get “My brother looked at my dad like a deer caught by my cousins.” It’s so refreshing. And yet, as immediately understood as its more hackneyed antecedent.

So, yeah, I liked this book.

The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon (a Book Club selection: mine!)

This book deserves a complete blog post, as I deemed it a Must Read, but alas. I waited too long to write about it.

I could complain about some things (the sometimes stilted dialogue, I would assume due to the translation; that I guessed on page 66 who the burned man was, although the truth wasn't actually revealed until much closer to the end of the book; and that the ending explained a little too much and wrapped everything up neatly with a bow) but the reading of it was so much fun that I didn't care. Sometimes while I'm reading books like these I start to wonder in the back of my mind . . . do I really like to read? And then a book like Shadow of the Wind comes along and I fall in love with reading all over again. YOU NEED TO READ THIS BOOK. You will love it too.

My favorite quote:

"The pleasure of reading: exploring the recesses of the soul, letting myself be carried away by imagination, beauty, and the mystery of fiction and language . . . by reading, I can live more intensely."

HOW TRUE! I pity anyone who has never realized the accuracy of the preceding statement.

Wait Till Helen Comes by Mary Downing Hahn

A just-barely-surpassing-mediocre YA ghost story that I remember next to nothing about. I saw it at one of my kids' Scholastic book fairs, and you know I can't pass up a tale of a good haunting. Apparently I can completely forget them, though.

What the Birds See by Sonya Hartnett

Here's an appealing story that begins with the tragic disappearance of three siblings, tangentially viewed through the eyes of an unwanted nine-year-old boy. My memory of this book is vague at best, but I found it well-written and arresting. I would read it again.

When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead

I really enjoyed this unique and subtle YA enigma. I was just sure Bookworm Child would, too, but I don't think she gave it a fair shake. Disappointing. I thought it was great, and another one worthy of a re-read.

The best I can do is to quote the back of the book: "This remarkable novel takes place in the real world but holds a fantastic puzzle at its heart. When You Reach Me is an original, and a brilliant and profound delight."

"When We Were Orphans" by Kazuo Ishiguro

Kazuo Ishiguro is freaking BRILLIANT. I may be the last person in the world to have figured that out, but that doesn't make it any less true.

After the last couple of stinkers, I decided it was time to choose a book I'd been promised was excellent. I'm elated to report I was not a bit disappointed. It's about time I came across another Must Read.

Ishiguro writes the story of Christopher Banks, an Englishman who spent much of his childhood in early twentieth century Shanghai but was then sent to England as an orphan at the age of nine. It's been his lifelong dream to become a detective, and once he reaches this goal he travels back to China to determine what really happened to his parents.

Banks is an adult as he tells the story, but important childhood events in Shanghai are woven into the narrative as memories, made all the more real by their elusive and possibly unreliable nature. He readily admits that his perceptions may very well differ from reality, but his perceptions are, after all, what his memories are composed of. After he returns to China, it becomes evident that it's not only his impressions of the past that may be unreliable; his obsessive qualities taint even his grasp of the present.

Ishiguro's choice of words is so precise. Do you ever find yourself mentally editing as you read, thinking you would have used a different word or phrase? I didn't do that with Ishiguro. His prose is subtle but beautifully descriptive, with an elegant simplicity that belies the deft and clever writing. Ishiguro never seems to be trying too hard, but he doesn't have to.

Of course, no part of this book was boring. But the way the tension subtly built, I reached a point where I had to stop my eyes from racing ahead. I tried to force myself to read slowly, to savor the story. When I noticed I only had about thirty pages remaining, I actually put the book down and stopped reading for a bit to prolong the inevitable and avoid finishing the book too soon.

Allow me to pause mid-gush and concede that this novel isn't perfect. The resolution of the mystery was a little bit Scooby Doo. (Maybe there weren't any meddling kids, and no one had a mask pulled off, but there was a sort of "it was you all along!" vibe.) But don't let that deter you in any way from reading this book. You know you thought Scooby was awesome when you were little, too.

Even with my criticism, I was surprised to read on wikipedia that this is "considered one of Ishiguro's weakest works, with Ishiguro himself saying, 'It's not my best book.'" That's actually kind of encouraging for me, though. If this is not his best, I can only imagine how good some of his others must be.

I'm here to tell you it's time to move Kazuo Ishiguro to the top of your TBR pile. I already have The Remains of the Day and Never Let Me Go on my wish list, but I won't need much of an excuse to add more.