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challenging
funny
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
There seem to be so many ways to interpret this book that I can’t even put down my thoughts on it immediately after finishing it. It felt like a long journey through a dream, in a good way.
"'These failures of nerve are, in my experience, very often associated with certain other unattractive traits. A hostility towards the introspective tone, most often characterised by an over-use of the crushed cadence. A fondness for pointlessly matching fragmented passages with each other. And at the more personal level, a megalomania masquerading behind a modest and kindly manner...'
I was obliged to break off becasue everyone in the room was now shouting at Christoff. He in turn was holding up his blue folder, thumbing its pages in the air, ccrying: 'The facts are here! Here!'
'Of course,' I shouted above the noise, 'this is another common failing. The belief that putting something in a folder will turn it into a fact!'
This was met with a roar of laughter that had at its heart an uncoiling fury..."
- Chapter 14
I was obliged to break off becasue everyone in the room was now shouting at Christoff. He in turn was holding up his blue folder, thumbing its pages in the air, ccrying: 'The facts are here! Here!'
'Of course,' I shouted above the noise, 'this is another common failing. The belief that putting something in a folder will turn it into a fact!'
This was met with a roar of laughter that had at its heart an uncoiling fury..."
- Chapter 14
A bewildering and frustrating book. I kept reading because I was hoping for some kind of explanation, but I should have known this is not the kind of novel to explain anything.
I should have stopped right near the very beginning when Mr Ryder, the protagonist, met a woman, a complete stranger, and then after meeting her and speaking to her for a while (a loooong while), he suddenly remembers she's his partner and they have a child together (who he also met as a stranger?). I know it's a metaphor for something, but every single event in the book was like this. Meet someone, this person is impressed because Mr Ryder is very impressive, then it turns out they're somehow related to Mr Ryder's past life, then they beg him to travel somewhere with them, Mr Ryder goes, they have a long, pointless conversation, then Mr Ryder remembers he should be somewhere else, leaves, but on the way he gets lost or derailed somehow. Repeat, ad nauseam.
The writing is dull and repetitive. I think that's maybe the point, but even if there's a "point", it doesn't make it any more enjoyable to read. I ended up skim reading pages and pages of a single character rambling on and on, thinking none of this makes any sense. Perhaps all these characters are figments of Mr Ryder's nightmare, connected to people he somehow knows from before. Perhaps, time, space and any sort of logic is meaningless. Fine. But just why?
What did I just read? I honestly don't know, but, more importantly, I don't really care either.
I should have stopped right near the very beginning when Mr Ryder, the protagonist, met a woman, a complete stranger, and then after meeting her and speaking to her for a while (a loooong while), he suddenly remembers she's his partner and they have a child together (who he also met as a stranger?). I know it's a metaphor for something, but every single event in the book was like this. Meet someone, this person is impressed because Mr Ryder is very impressive, then it turns out they're somehow related to Mr Ryder's past life, then they beg him to travel somewhere with them, Mr Ryder goes, they have a long, pointless conversation, then Mr Ryder remembers he should be somewhere else, leaves, but on the way he gets lost or derailed somehow. Repeat, ad nauseam.
The writing is dull and repetitive. I think that's maybe the point, but even if there's a "point", it doesn't make it any more enjoyable to read. I ended up skim reading pages and pages of a single character rambling on and on, thinking none of this makes any sense. Perhaps all these characters are figments of Mr Ryder's nightmare, connected to people he somehow knows from before. Perhaps, time, space and any sort of logic is meaningless. Fine. But just why?
What did I just read? I honestly don't know, but, more importantly, I don't really care either.
challenging
mysterious
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
challenging
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Good - but work
I was on a real Ishiguro train. One after the other for a couple of weeks. Then I hit the Unconsoled. It took me months. This is like the hard drugs of his stuff - the weaving repetitive sentences and unreliable narration were kind of like Remains of the Day but next level - you'd have full pages of someone repeating the same thing. It's painful to get to but also somehow also an extremely fun fever dream to try and pull together.
I was on a real Ishiguro train. One after the other for a couple of weeks. Then I hit the Unconsoled. It took me months. This is like the hard drugs of his stuff - the weaving repetitive sentences and unreliable narration were kind of like Remains of the Day but next level - you'd have full pages of someone repeating the same thing. It's painful to get to but also somehow also an extremely fun fever dream to try and pull together.
The kind of book you have to re-read 5 times before you can be certain you’re stating to grasp all of the narrative layers within. Ambitious.
Challenged my requirement for linearity to tell a good story. Does time ebb and flow like music? Do locations morph and become what one needs/wants because of art? Do simple conversations which turn quickly into confessionals rise and fall, begin and explore like the tempo of music? Is the central character's utter unacknowledgement of his extreme self-reference excusable because he's famous? Ishiguro said this book, like Remains of the Day, is about love without empathy. I can't buy that it's only empathy that's missing.
So, is this about the main character in first-person narrative, or about all the stories of minor characters? Is Hoffman more or less important than the electrician on the tram? Is the tram a tram? Is the conservatory an auditorium? Are the unfolding geographic passages between dissonant buildings a metaphor for music? art? hopes? wants?
So many more questions than answers which leads me to the conclusion that there are no answers. That we're all in our own world trying our best to figure it out. Though, some of us don't try our best.
The need for parents while being the shittiest parent ever is telling; but of what? Of individual needs trumping our ability to change?
So, is this about the main character in first-person narrative, or about all the stories of minor characters? Is Hoffman more or less important than the electrician on the tram? Is the tram a tram? Is the conservatory an auditorium? Are the unfolding geographic passages between dissonant buildings a metaphor for music? art? hopes? wants?
So many more questions than answers which leads me to the conclusion that there are no answers. That we're all in our own world trying our best to figure it out. Though, some of us don't try our best.
The need for parents while being the shittiest parent ever is telling; but of what? Of individual needs trumping our ability to change?
I can't figure out whether I liked this book or not. It was very "Mr. Ryder Through the Looking Glass" to me. Also he was clearly kind of a jerk so maybe the whole book was that he died and went to hell? He didn't seem like THAT much of a jerk though...