NEVER LET ME GO (BY) KAZUO ISHIGURO

Published 2006, 304 Pages
Characters: B-
Writing: B+

Plot: B
Pacing: B+

Poignancy: B+

Set in an ever-so-slightly-alternate universe England over a period roughly analogous to the end of the last century, Never Let Me Go is a retrospective first-person tale narrated by a 'carer' named Kathy.  Kathy lives in a world that seems hostile to her very existence, but this is not quite dystopian lit.  It's a world where science has led us in new directions, but it's not quite sci-fi.  It's hard to gauge just what Never Let Me Go is, exactly, and Ishiguro wisely keeps his cards close to his chest.  This short novel has no action, few characters and only a couple barely noticeable scene changes, yet unravels with such precision and deft timing that it should be a quick, engaging read for almost anyone.

Though this is not a mystery novel, either, Ishiguro creates an artificial one as his main hook — we know from page one that Kathy does something strange and possibly dangerous for a living, but we're never told directly what.  There's a general feeling of inevitability and fear that plays out beautifully in the narration as the smallest of details clue us into the fact that her world is different from ours — and after all, when are alternate universes ever not malicious places? We're told of Hailsham, a special private school in the countryside where Kathy grew up and was prepared by secretive teachers to do... something. The characters, when children, are as oblivious to their purpose as We The Reader are, but as we skip around in time and they age, they seem to absorb an understanding of their purpose through rumors and whispers, while we do not.  Ishiguro loves foreshadowing — a little too much, perhaps, though his writing is solid in every other area — and Kathy is a bumbling, hesitant narrator, so it's clear that the children are at this special school for some strange and sinister purpose.  But what?  To become wizards? It's an entirely artificial mystery, especially when Kathy and her friends are teenagers free to explore the outside world, but it doesn't quite detract from the story.  Without it, the slow pacing would become a distraction, but as it is, the story slips by as quickly (and blurrily, and often confusingly) as a memory.  Unlike certain writers and producers of Lost, Ishiguro doesn't use his narrative mystery to force artificial tension or misdirection — it's simply there, lingering in the background, with the understanding that we're to pay attention to the character's interactions rather than try to unravel any secrets a few pages early.

Never Let Me Go is wonderfully paced and nearly-always engaging, but this brevity could be taken as a weakness as well.  I often wished for more depth, in nearly every area of the story.  The school, Hailsham, is established as an enormous emotional investment for Kathy, yet I never felt it come to life.  Most of her classmates — including Kathy's friend Ruth, one of the most important characters in the novel — are adequately characterized, but little more.  Even the novel's main foil, Kathy's friend and sometimes love-interest Tommy, isn't given enough time to bond with Kathy, which severely diminished the ultimate payoff.  Their relationship is convincingly sketched out, earnest and natural, yet I felt it never really went beyond the page — it never became emotional to me, and maybe not even to the characters themselves, who remain strangely distant and guarded throughout.  For all the little details that Ishiguro slips in to "show" rather than "tell," their relationship simply isn't there for long enough to make the reader feel as much as they could.

Ultimately, Never Let Me Go is still incredibly readable and largely satisfying.  It is a novel that lacks any show-stopping faults, but it isn't a heavy-hitter either.  I'd recommend it, but I wouldn't rave about it.  Considering how poorly constructed the majority of novels are, when you really analyze them, Ishiguro should be commended for this solid and thought-provoking genre-bender.