I can now finally let go of Kazuo Ishiguro’s “Never Let Me Go.” I say this with much relief, after struggling to finish the book.
Don’t get me wrong—I don’t dislike it. It’s probably just me unconsciously delaying the thought of getting lost into something that makes me sad, under the guise of excuses such: as too many things to do; stayed up late and now have to crash; and football gets in the way.
So yes, it feels like a small victory to finally finish it at about three o’clock this morning.
“Never Let Me Go” is told from the point of view of Kathy H., who reconnects with her two friends, Ruth and Tommy, and shares the stories of their past and the turbulence of their relationships. Now, these characters aren’t human beings, but clones that exist in a world wherein they are to serve as cures to diseases by donating their organs. It’s a doomed and brief existence, yet what perhaps gives the book much of its flavor is just how these beings go through the whole gamut of human emotions, perhaps to serve as a counterpoint to their eventual ending.
The book is never overly drawn out. What I liked most about it is just how Ishiguro writes with so much elegance, control, and tightness. It is the words that draw you in to feel the hurt, the loss, and the sense of finality that comes with what and who the characters are.
I saw the movie 20 pages into reading the book, and I must say, while I am a fan of Carey Mulligan and Keira Knightley, the book gives so much more depth into their characters than what the movie offers.