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3.54 AVERAGE
3.54 AVERAGE
Kind of cool being immersed in an Ishiguro novel when the author is awarded the Nobel Prize!
Deviating from his Realist roots, The Unconsoled is a fantasy novel and a groundbreaking representation of consciousness. It’s one long anxiety dream, although he does wake up at the beginning of each part (false awakenings are not uncommon) but taking the form of dream logic, Ryder, an Internationally acclaimed pianist arrives in an Eastern European city without the slightest inkling of what his purpose there might be. Everyone has been expecting him, schedules have been organised and the stage is set but at no point does he ask what it is he’s supposed to be doing. Ryder accepts everything that happens without question or surprise, just like you would in a dream. He remembers things, he forgets, all the while covering up his anxieties. Characters in the novel appear to be aspects of himself - his past and his fears of what he might become in his future and he appropriates these people for his own psychological purposes. Becoming increasingly frustrated at the various demands on his time, Ryder is happiest on the bus or the tram, surrounded by strangers where there are no expectations. This incidentally might have some bearing on his name - a passenger of sorts perhaps? Fitting that the book ends on a continually circuitous tram. A passenger, a dreamer, a writer unable to find his way out of his own novel!
Deviating from his Realist roots, The Unconsoled is a fantasy novel and a groundbreaking representation of consciousness. It’s one long anxiety dream, although he does wake up at the beginning of each part (false awakenings are not uncommon) but taking the form of dream logic, Ryder, an Internationally acclaimed pianist arrives in an Eastern European city without the slightest inkling of what his purpose there might be. Everyone has been expecting him, schedules have been organised and the stage is set but at no point does he ask what it is he’s supposed to be doing. Ryder accepts everything that happens without question or surprise, just like you would in a dream. He remembers things, he forgets, all the while covering up his anxieties. Characters in the novel appear to be aspects of himself - his past and his fears of what he might become in his future and he appropriates these people for his own psychological purposes. Becoming increasingly frustrated at the various demands on his time, Ryder is happiest on the bus or the tram, surrounded by strangers where there are no expectations. This incidentally might have some bearing on his name - a passenger of sorts perhaps? Fitting that the book ends on a continually circuitous tram. A passenger, a dreamer, a writer unable to find his way out of his own novel!
This book gets 3 stars instead of 2 only because it is absolutely a masterwork of writing. It is phenomenal how well Ishiguro manages to capture on paper what a dream is truly like. But real dreams are very unsettling and usually unresolved, and this book has the same problem. Maybe I'm too much of an Aristotelian and want my catharsis, but it does seem to me that if you're going to plow through 500 pages of an actual dream that you can't wake up from, there needs to be more to it than this.
Things to say about this book: uh, what is going on and why are all the buldings attached? Also, thanks for that weird, overshare conversation. I don't know guys, I didn't get it.
I read this book years ago, and was intrigued by Ishiguro's writing. I felt, like the protagonist, as though I never quite knew what was going on.
It has been a long time since I have loved a book in the way, or for the reasons, I loved this book. I do not require a plot. I want language and questions. And Ishiguro delivers. Over and over again. I read a few reviews that look at this book as a novel of anxiety. I see it. But I see it as more. As the artist’s anxiety. Who are we living for? Creating for? Working for? And do we lose ourself in the whole creation? This is a very cinematic novel. It felt like Bergman’s “The Silence” (without the sex) and Carpenter’s “In the Mouth of Madness” (without the horror).
Don’t know the last time I found myself so repeatedly pissed off by a character’s actions. Here, Ishiguro populates a destination town’s cultural scene with countless such clowns. Pages and pages of grievances and apologies, all hilariously passive aggressive, increasingly disturbing the lengths people go to to maintain their right to believe whatever justification spills out of their mouths. I could have read another 500 pages of this shit. Had no idea how it could possibly end in a satisfying way when from the outset there appear to be two options. In the end, it felt right. Takes a couple turns in the last couple chapters that were politely jaw dropping. Just really dug the book’s wavelength. Conversational control, expectation vs projection, prideful anxiety bumping against prideful anxiety. Self importance is self defeating. V relatable. This book is how it feels to have a conversation when everyone in 2023 has their insecurity walls securely patrolled. Hoffman can fuck himself right into Hell.
This is my second Ishiguro that I’ve been overly disappointed by. I don’t know if it’s Ishiguro or the narrator, Simon Vance. Perhaps the combo isn’t great for me as I generally enjoy Ishiguro and I’ve had Vance narrate other books and thought him excellent. I don’t know when I originally started this book, but I think it was a year ago and it’s taken me multiple check outs from the library to finish. None of the characters I found interesting and the ending I found them all quite horrible. It felt like this was supposed to be making a statement on humans and relationships and misunderstandings leading to false assumptions but it ended with feeling like cognitive dissonance and rather than working to lessen the dissonance, everyone just rejected everything and everyone so that they could continue believing their beliefs. And in these times, it’s more a depressing statement on humanity than art.
В град на недоволните ни отвежда този път Казуо Ишигуро. Романът „Неутешимите” е напълно различен от останалите му произведения, но е обявен за една от най-добрите книги, излизали в периода 1980-2005 година.
Един безименен град се опитва да издигне на пиедестал възрастен диригент, лежащ на стари лаври и чрез него да се спаси от културния упадък. Никой от героите не се интересува какъв е всъщност Бродски, вълнува ги единствено онова, което може да направи той за тях. Същото отношение среща и Райдър, чрез когото проследяваме действието в романа, той пристига в града, за да помогне за решаването на проблемите, но среща единствено хора, които постоянно се оплакват един от друг и очакват от някой друг да реши проблемите им. Интересен похват използва авторът, като представя мислите и спомените на всички герои именно чрез пианиста Райдър – герой, който не помни своето собствено посещение в същия този град. Увлечен от всеобщото недоволство той очаква нощта на концерта, за която всички се надяват да им донесе желаната промяна, но дали едно общество може да достигне до мечтаното равновесие чрез външна намеса?
Един безименен град се опитва да издигне на пиедестал възрастен диригент, лежащ на стари лаври и чрез него да се спаси от културния упадък. Никой от героите не се интересува какъв е всъщност Бродски, вълнува ги единствено онова, което може да направи той за тях. Същото отношение среща и Райдър, чрез когото проследяваме действието в романа, той пристига в града, за да помогне за решаването на проблемите, но среща единствено хора, които постоянно се оплакват един от друг и очакват от някой друг да реши проблемите им. Интересен похват използва авторът, като представя мислите и спомените на всички герои именно чрез пианиста Райдър – герой, който не помни своето собствено посещение в същия този град. Увлечен от всеобщото недоволство той очаква нощта на концерта, за която всички се надяват да им донесе желаната промяна, но дали едно общество може да достигне до мечтаното равновесие чрез външна намеса?
I have to admit to not finishing this book. I picked it up with more and more chagrin every time I tried to give it another chance. The dream concept was interesting but the writing and characters were not compelling enough to make it worth the effort.