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* Pithy summary: Kazuo Ishiguro read that Sartre bit about the waiter in the cafe, and was like, "this is an interesting thought experiment but I would like to turn it all the way to 11, and also the guy should be an English butler," and lo, a novel was born.
* More seriously, I went into this novel nearly totally blind: a few friends had told me that it was really really good, and I vaguely knew some of the likely themes based on some half-remembered commentary on one of Ishiguro's other novels, Never Let Me Go, years ago (some long explainer on why the British class system is apparently incomprehensible to Americans, iirc?). And I'm actually glad I went in with so little advance knowledge, because uh, if you google this title, even the politest summaries include what I'd consider a medium-sized, experience-dampening spoiler. (Not experience-ruining, just... dampening.) Ergo, anything remotely spoilery is going under a cut; read on thus cautioned!
( Read more... )
* Anyway. It's hard to say I "enjoyed" this, even though I am in fact glad I read it. It's just that it's not enjoyable in the I-had-a-fun-rollicking-time sense; by the time I finished, I had the kind of gloomy mood that leads to pacing around one's own apartment and staring at random walls or flecks of dust overlong. But, y'know, in a good way.
* More seriously, I went into this novel nearly totally blind: a few friends had told me that it was really really good, and I vaguely knew some of the likely themes based on some half-remembered commentary on one of Ishiguro's other novels, Never Let Me Go, years ago (some long explainer on why the British class system is apparently incomprehensible to Americans, iirc?). And I'm actually glad I went in with so little advance knowledge, because uh, if you google this title, even the politest summaries include what I'd consider a medium-sized, experience-dampening spoiler. (Not experience-ruining, just... dampening.) Ergo, anything remotely spoilery is going under a cut; read on thus cautioned!
( Read more... )
* Anyway. It's hard to say I "enjoyed" this, even though I am in fact glad I read it. It's just that it's not enjoyable in the I-had-a-fun-rollicking-time sense; by the time I finished, I had the kind of gloomy mood that leads to pacing around one's own apartment and staring at random walls or flecks of dust overlong. But, y'know, in a good way.
