Never Let Me Go is probably the only book I've ever read when I thought the book was truly excellent but I absolutely hated the subject matter and couldn't understand the actions of the characters. Having just read the reviews, which I didn't do before reading the book, I see several of the frustrating questions I had while reading.

First, I almost immediately knew what was meant by "carer" and "donor" but hoped I was wrong. It continues to nag at me that I've read something like this before but I can't put my finger on it. Maybe an excerpt of the book was published in a magazine, although I would be surprised that this book would be excerpted.

My continual frustration was that the characters, seemingly intelligent and aware of other people outside their "world," would so blindly accept their fate. They had opportunities to live a more normal life but there was no indication they even considered it. Were they brainwashed at Hailsham? It doesn't seem likely because they weren't really told what was happening with them, although at some point they did know and accepted their fate. They looked for their models, so they had to have been given an explanation of some type.

Why didn't Kathy and Tommy, after being told they couldn't get an extension because they were in love, just drive off into the real world and start a new life? Maybe Madame proved they had souls, but what about their minds and ability to reason? Kathy said to Tommy that maybe his bad fits of temper in school were because he always "knew," so why didn't they leave once they finally understood there was no other way out?

My next frustration was why, when they became donors, were their organs taken on a gradual basis? Since it is obvious they were intended to "complete," why not take them all at once? Why make them suffer? Because of the way the book is written, it is very easy to care about the characters and then for them to have to suffer while carrying out the purpose for which they were created is just unacceptable.

It may be obvious that I really despise this book in many ways. I tend to be very literal about what I read and I may be missing some not obvious point that would make it all okay, but I can't imagine what that would be.

I'm guessing that the moral of the story is that the scientists who came up with this idea assumed that the lives they created would not be like real people -- that they would have no souls -- and Madame and some of the others at Hailsham were so dismayed at what was happening that they wanted to have the practice stopped. That is a fine moral, but there is too much that doesn't add up for me.

Okay, I could go on and on, and I haven't answered any of Siobhan's questions, but since we are dealing with creations who can't think well enough to escape a horrid fate, I can't come up with logical explanations as to why they think as they do about each other's actions and faults and sex, etc. Maybe we do...

Let me say immediately that, as many people know, I was, and am, absolutely enthralled by this book. I've read it three times since it came out.

I want to attempt to tackle just one question that's been raised here. I once saw a transcript of a BBC radio discussion about this book - and one of the guys just couldn't get beyond the question "Why didn't they just leg it?" So why didn't they?

Remember that this is a world where the idea of clones being bred for donations is entirely acceptable. The breakthroughs in medical science happened in the fifties. Imagine if the sort of investment our society has put into technology was instead put into medicine - and imagine also that we had quickly and easily solved (for example) the problems of organ rejection. Now, for whatever reason, the world was a lot less sophisticated in the fifties than it is now. You didn't hear so much about "human rights" - certainly nothing about "animal rights". I don't think it's so far beyond the realms of possibility that we could have brought ourselves to a society where the idea of cloning humans for the purposes of a decent supply of organs was considered to be a good thing - so long as you carefully persuade yourself that these people aren't really human.

But Ishiguro makes it clear that these clones are indeed people. So the question is - why do these otherwise intelligent people accept their lot so pathetically? Well, to me there are at least three possible answers. One is that as part of the cloning process, the creators have inserted something - a gene? - which prevents much else than acceptance. Another is the rather appalling idea that if you are careful with the way you bring up people, you can ensure an unthinking acceptance even in the most intelligent people. A third is that they weed out rebellious children when they are very young - a society which is able to tolerate the production of clones for the purposes of organ donation would not worry much about culling them. They're not human, remember?

And whatever the reason is, I don't think it's important; the point is that this is just the way they are. We are able to see a blind acceptance in everything they do. Did you ever see such a well-behaved bunch of schoolkids? Did one of them ever answer back or cheek their teachers? Tommy is the only one who showed any rebelliousness - and even he learned eventually to control his temper. You hear about quarrels - but no-one ever actually had a fight. Even once they are carers - they just get on and do what they are expected to do, and accept their fate at the end. It doesn't cross Tommy and Kathy's mind to do a bunk at the end. That would have been an obvious ending to the book - but it would have been inconsistent. It doesn't cross their minds to do a bunk because it's just not in their natures. The best they hope for is a "deferral" - and when that is taken away, blind obedience to their fate is all that's left.

Did...

"Kazuo Ishiguro was born in Nagasaki, Japan, on November 8, 1954, to Shizuo (an oceanographer) and Shizuko (a homemaker). When he was six, he and his family moved to England where his father was commissioned by the British government to work on a project. Although the family expected to stay only a few years, his fatherÂs work kept them there much longer until England had truly become their home. Although Ishiguro and his two sisters attended English schools and had fairly typical English childhood experiences, at home they spoke Japanese and integrated their Japanese roots into their lives. In fact, Ishiguro has said that his interest in writing started as a way to preserve his fading memories of Japan, a country he would not see again until 1989.

Ishiguro earned a bachelor of arts degree with honors in philosophy and literature in 1978, and then completed his master of arts in creative writing at the University of East Anglia in 1980. He worked as a social worker for a number of years (during and after college) until he was able to make a living as a writer. During his years as a social worker, he met Lorna Anne MacDougall, whom he married in 1986. They have a daughter named Naomi, who was born in 1992. IshiguroÂs interests include music and the cinema.

Despite his youth, Ishiguro has already built an impressive literary career. Each of his first three novels won awardsÂthe third, The Remains of the Day won the prestigious Booker PrizeÂand all five of his novels to date have earned critical acclaim. IshiguroÂs novels deal with self-deception, regret, and personal reflection. His narratives are carefully wrought first-person accounts with a controlled tone that does not deter from the speakerÂs deep soulsearching. Ishiguro is credited, alongside such highprofile writers as Salman Rushdie, with breathing new life into contemporary British fiction. In 1995, Ishiguro was named to the Order of the British Empire for his contributions to literature."

Adam

Frances, I do understand your feelings about about the novel; in fact they illustrate the complexity behind the work. I feel Ishiguro is making a statement about our society. How many of us really escape? I have so many friends who are utterly miserable in their normal, even envious, middle class lives, yet the idea of simply walking away or just saying no to some of their more onerous duties doesn't even occur to them. Are they so different than Kathy? And as Martin put it so well, aren't they a bit strange after all? So well-behaved. Perhaps anyone showing any spunk at all is 'weeded out' well before they would get into school. Or the Hailsham children were specially chosen. Once again, I see parallels in our own society, parallels that make me most uncomfortable. This book makes you squirm inwardly.

I'm just now beginning to read this...and am plowing my way through it. I am finding no connection to the characters. Although I can see there is a deeper story here, I am weary already of the "looking back on my miserable whiny teen years" narration.

I did almost instantly figure out the main concept of the book.

For some reason I am early on reminded of The Harrod Experiment.

Am I too old for this book?

I can't see any reason why you might be too old for the book. You can't be that much older than me...!

I didn't feel that Kathy was "looking back on my miserable whiny teen years" in the slightest. In fact, she says that her years at Hailsham were the best times. And the book refers to other donors who wanted to hear about Hailsham and what it was like to be there.

What I did find fascinating about this book was the way it was written as if it was going to be read by other donors. Phrases like "I don't know how it was where you were, but...." and "I don't know if you had 'collections' where you were." Hence, there is no need to justify or explain the way people behaved - if you were a donor or a carer, you'd understand. But we, the actual readers, have to work it out, bit by bit...

Veronica, you can't be too old to read the book; sometimes one's frame of mind isn't right for what they are reading at that time.

Siobhan, after thinking it over for a couple of hours I can honestly say that I don't know anyone who is miserable in their lives as you describe. I do know people who for health or financial reasons are not especially happy but if my friends or acquaintances are miserable in the way you describe they sure don't tell me about it. Maybe that is why I don't so much see the parallel to society today, but I don't doubt that you are right.

Would this book be considered science fiction? I never read science fiction (or time travel) books because I really want to read fiction based in reality. If I look at it from a science fiction point of view, then I could agree with Martin that an "acceptance" gene could have been inserted and the self-preservation gene removed, if there is such a thing. When it comes to science fiction, I guess anything is possible but then there is no need to try to understand or analyze it.

There are so many more things I want to say about the book but the possible science fiction bit has made me re-think saying them.

The nagging feeling I had has finally pushed its way through. I believe I read a review of the book when it first came out and then went to sleep and dreamed about the donors and the carers, and I still have a vivid picture in my mind of part of that dream. I remember thinking when I woke up that I would never read that book -- I just didn't remember the name of the book.

Frances - I've been thinking about a couple of your questions.

Why didn't Kathy and Tommy, after being told they couldn't get an extension because they were in love, just drive off into the real world and start a new life?

I've discussed this to some extent earlier. But one further practical point - we have no real idea what the "real world" is like. But one might suspect that there would be a concern that clones might try to do exactly that. So surely it is likely that people in the real world would have something like an ID card which was completely unavailable to a clone, or a clone's ID would be completely different. Without this, it might be impossible to get a job or accommodation. The sheer practicalities would make it more-or-less impossible to go into the real world.

My next frustration was why, when they became donors, were their organs taken on a gradual basis? Why make them suffer?

Quite possibly, you don't get a call until someone needs your organ; potentially the recipient is on the next operating table to the donor. Remember, to this society, these people aren't human, after all - why do they have to worry about them suffering?

I really think it's possible that an apparently civilized society could learn to depend on clones like this. Is it so different from slavery? People justified slavery by suggesting that the slaves were only a bit above animals - it's not so different from the attitude towards clones that we have deduced from this book.

I finished this book the day before yesterday, and I really loved it in a macabre sort of way. In fact, I've already recommended it to two people and told them I couldn't tell them a single thing about it without spoiling it for them. I suppose the charm of the book for me was that it is just so well written. It's my first Ishiguro but won't be my last.

I had evidently picked up enough from earlier mentions of it that I knew right away what was going on, but I am fascinated by the book. I didn't even question whey Kathy and Tommy didn't just go off together. I didn't think about an implanted gene; I just assumed they were too conditioned to their lot to rebel. I do like what Martin said about identity problems in the outside world.

I was aggravated with Ruth throughout and glad when Kathy and Tommy finally got together.

I havenÂt read others comments yet because I thought IÂd give you my first thoughts and then respond to what everyone else is saying.
********
I read this book non-stop, in one evening. I couldnÂt put it down because it became clear to me that this was a layered story with an intriguing mystery. I was interested in what the narrator wasnÂt saying because that told an even more intriguing story. I picked up on the organ donor reference fairly quickly but what I really wanted to know was what this society was like that allowed/permitted this to happen or perhaps didnÂt even know about it? We find out that they knew but preferred not to know.

Forgive me if this sounds a little strange but the following was my first reaction: We were planning a bbq steak dinner the next day and I felt very uncomfortable when I looked at those packages of meat. We spent a week camping in range country, big ponderosa pines, clear lakes filled with rainbow trout and we shared the environment with some free-range cattle during the summer. We were surprised one time to see a herd of about 20 turn and, as a group, chase a coyote that had come a little too close for their comfort. I actually admired them. But I still eat them. However, I know that if I visited an abattoir and saw how these terrified animals were rounded up and driven and then killed, I would become a vegetarian . I like steaks occasionally; therefore I donÂt visit an abattoir because I not want to know. I prefer to find my food packaged and displayed nicely in the grocery store. Yes, IÂm a hypocrite. Although not on the same level as the society in Never Let Me Go , I share some of those qualities or perhaps, faults, is the better word. I do draw the line at veal since I canÂt stomach the thought of what is done to those calves. But I am still considering becoming a vegetarian and this book is niggling at my conscience.
The clones were very much like cattle I thought. Where was that instinct for survival? Why were they so passive? The only sensible answer was that they had been either genetically modified or chosen for passivity. The genetic manipulation could have been done during the cloning process. They werenÂt donors, they were being harvested. Tom was an aberration in the passivity aspect but even he was controlled. And then I also wondered if the clones had been marked in some way so that other members of society would look at them and know what they were. There was so little interaction with the general population. I kept waiting for a "normal" person to fall in love with one of them and perform a "rescue". Didn't happen. How did they know to avoid them?

Enough for now, IÂll read your comments then continue.

All right - I see some of my thoughts were echoed elsewhere although no one else came up with the "human cow" analogy. I told you it was a strange thought. Ruined my meal. LOL!

Re: Siobhan's Qs

Why is Kathy so blind to Ruth's faults?
Maybe it was that passivity that I discussed above. I was going to say that none of them had a strong sense of self but Ruth was certainly a strong person.

Why do the girls feel guilty about having sexual desire, or about enjoying sex? (Don't get sent to Disney.)
Maybe the sex impulse is a strong animal reaction and their natures made them feel uncomfortable with strong reactions.

Are Kathy, Tommy and Ruth really so different from any of us in the way that they accept their fate? How many of us "run away?" How many of us have the courage or the will to do other than what is expected of us?
Yes, I thought they were different. We all have a strong survival instinct and that was muted in them.

***
Frances -- Regarding your deja vue experience: there is a movie playing at the moment called The Island which has a very similar concept. Trailers for it were on tv. NOTE, Spoiler follow: It's a business whereby you can pay to have a clone grown and then the organs harvested when you need them. The difference there is that the clones don't know they are clones and think they've won a vacation when their lottery number is drawn. Actually they are then killed. The difference is that this is a secret business run by a pharmaceutical company, which knows if the general population or government were to find out, they would be shut down and charged. So that might also be the reference that is nagging at you.
You said: "I'm guessing that the moral of the story is that the scientists who came up with this idea assumed that the lives they created would not be like real people -- that they would have no souls -- and Madame and some of the others at Hailsham were so dismayed at what was happening that they wanted to have the practice stopped."

I think the scientists knew they were human - of course they were! But it's a lot more palatable (sorry,I can't seem to get rid of the steak dinner from my mind) if everyone pretends that they aren't human and society is prepared to accept that because of the ahem, benefits. So everyone turns a blind eye because they want to. The school was just trying to improve conditions in the same way the animal rights movement is operating.

Veronica -- It could be that this kind of novel just isn't your cuppa tea. If I remember correctly you really disliked The Handmaid's Tale. If I were to categorize novels, these two would be grouped together.

Janalyn...good memory! I think in the case of Handmaiden, it's more that I don't like Margaret Atwood at all.

I generally do like science/medical/technology books like this...it's just these characters I don't like.

Maybe working in a setting where I do work with donors, and it is referred to as being harvested...maybe that aspect of my life has me looking at the donor thing in a different light than someone who has never accompanied the donor to the OR - and helped a family through that decision. Very different situations...but maybe that's the thing.

One of the original questions was - why do the girls feel guilty about having sexual desire, or about enjoying sex?

I'm a little puzzled about this. I don't see any real feeling of guilt about this anywhere. There was the one bit where Kathy was concerned that she occasionally seemed to feel as if she wanted to do it with just anyone - but she didn't seem to feel guilty about it - just scared. But isn't that a normal adolescent feeling - you're not really in control of your body and it can get quite scary how much your sexual desire can take over. But only Kathy described it as scarey - Ruth just said later that she'd felt the same, but didn't say that she'd felt upset or guilty. The only guilt she was feeling was having not sympathised with Kathy, letting her believe that Tommy wouldn't want her if she had slept with several men - and in general doing everything she could to prevent Kathy and Tommy getting together.

Actually, Ruth was a horrible person really, wasn't she? Everything she did was for her own benefit. You even get the impression she only persuaded Tommy and Kathy to get together so that she could get rid of what little guilt she might have had, when there was no real future left for herself.

In a way, Kathy reminds me a bit of the heroine (Offred) in The Handmaid's Tale. They both tend to go along with the world as it lays itself out, without in any way trying to change anything much.

Ruth's personality just confirms that they were human -- you have the good along with the bad.

Here's a question I don't feel competent to answer. Kazuo Ishiguro has written in the first person from a woman's point of view. Has he succeeded? Or has he merely given a man's view of how a woman might react and feel?

The reason I thought of this was because, as I said above, I felt there were some parallels with The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. I've now re-read The Handmaid's Tale discussion - and one of the points that was made was that men were impressed by the novel, but with women it resonated on a personal level, which was (understandably, perhaps) missed by men. Has Ishiguro succeeded in writing a novel which impresses men but resonates with women?

Here is a link that might be useful: Handmaid's Tale RP discussion

I can't speak for everyone else, but it didn't resonate with me on a personal level, mainly because I felt like an outsider looking in. I really couldn't identify with the characters.

The Handmaid's Tale had all those mother/children issues which, of course, really resonated with me. The strength of feeling you have for your children always amazes me.

Thanks for saving that discussion by the way. It's definitely a keeper.

I found it strange that the characters would feel any guilt about sex at all, given the matter-of-fact way they treated it - just as they seemed to view everything else. Ruth said Kathy was "a bit weird" when Kathy confessed to becoming aroused while snogging - something that is perfectly normal. And Kathy's rather pitiful attempts to find her 'possible' in porn magazines because of her sexual urges. To me this underscored the not-quite-rightness of the characters. Maybe this was just another layer in the book that I particularly noticed.

I feel Ishiguro did a remarkable job of speaking in a woman's voice, especially given the difficulty of the task he set for himself, using first person and choosing a conversational, chatty style that is so difficult to keep going throughout an entire novel. As I paged through the book just now, I was again struck by the ordinariness of the prose which hides the horrors just beneath the surface.

Here's my question:

What enabled Kathy to be a carer for so long? Wasn't it 12 years and she was still doing it, rather than putting herself in the donor program. Most of the others only lasted a few years before they voluntarily became donors. Didn't Ruth give her a hard time about it -- not tht anyone seemed really anxious to become a donor, rather they seemed to dislike being a carer. Sorry, but the book went back to the library a month ago so I can't check the details...

There is no particular reason given. In the very first page, it says that "they" (I wonder who "they" are?) want her to go on for another eight months, until the end of the year. She says that some excellent carers were called after only two or three years, and one she called a "waste of space" was a carer for fourteen years. And I'm not sure that there is ever an implication that switching from being a carer to being a donor is something you can make a choice about.

Perhaps, as I suggested above, it's a matter of compatibility? If a particular kidney tissue match is required, and the only one available happens to be a carer who has only worked two years, he or she will get called. Just a possibility.

It's been a couple of months since I read this book, but here are a couple of thoughts.

Why do the girls feel guilty about having sexual desire, or about enjoying sex? My thought is that they were subtly and sometimes overtly discouraged from having sexual relationships because in most people, sexual relationships sometimes instantly and almost always eventually lead to strong emotional attachments to one's partner. These individuals were being "groomed" to fulfill a pre-ordained purpose, and the fewer emotional ties the better.

This is a very simplistic way to look at it, but I think of it in this way when I consider the staff at Hailsham. Many of us have pets, such as a dog or cat. We form a bond with these animals and they become precious to us, to the extent that we will do our best to keep them from harm. However, if you've ever lived in a farm setting, you know that you don't form attachments to livestock, particularly livestock that is going to be slaughtered for food, etc. Dogs, cats, and cows are all animals, yet we place more emotional value on dogs and cats. Rhetorical question: Don't we realize that a cow's lot in life is to be slaughtered for the betterment of society? We avoid assigning human emotions to them because it's easier to accept that this is their lot in life if we don't see them as human, whereas with our housepets, we coo and laugh about how intelligent they are, how much they adore us, how they miss us when we're away, and how they are attuned to our every mood.

This is how I see that the faculty at Hailsham (for the most part) felt about the children there. And while I'm off on a wild tangent, consider the widespread extermination of the Jews during the Nazi regime. The Nazis didn't see the Jews as being human, or as being inferior humans at any rate, so with a clear conscience they were able to carry out mass murder.

And I'm really surprised that some don't see why Kathy and the others didn't just run away. They were groomed from birth to accept their fate. Sure, we all like to think that we would be brave or intelligent enough not to accept our lot in life. I feel we are fooling ourselves. I think this is the human condition, and the majority of us would have done exactly the same as Kathy and company because we do it every day, whether we realize it or not, carrying out lives filled with "quiet desperation" in many cases. Sure, nobody wants to admit it, but doesn't anyone else ever feel a certain futility in every day life?

Sometimes I wonder if Ishiguro was simply holding up a mirror to our society and showing us how little we value human life and how we ALL are residents at Hailsham, afraid to break out of the mold as we live out our lives of acceptance. We all like to believe that we and our family and friends are special (and I'm not denying that we are), but in the larger scheme of things, we're just part of the masses.

Okay, you all think I'm nuts now. :-)

I disagree with you about accepting our fate. Many people don't accept their "fate" at birth. They immigrate for better conditions and if they can't do it legally, they'll do it illegally. Or they become refugees etc. I don't have much time right now to discuss this issue further, but your comments made me think of something else:

What if these people weren't clones? Who's to say they weren't sold or taken or were unwanted babies? And then they were just told they were clones....and other people were told that to to help make them acceptable as donors.

Janalyn, I see your point, but I'm talking about the majority. The majority will normally accept something because that's the way it's always been or the way it has always been done or what they've always been taught and accepted as truth. There will always be a few who don't accept the norm as being normal, and more power to those people. But, how many of us just plod through life, taking a day at a time and not even questioning where we are or how we got there? This is just a rhetorical question, of course, and as such is purely philosophical.

Another example would be someone who has been indoctrinated in an extremist religion since birth, and there ARE religious organizations that say that if you will allow them to have a child through the age of 12, that child will never leave that religious faith. We all realize how hard it is for most people to break free from cults once they have been isolated from outside influences and "brainwashed" into accepting the cult's teaching as supreme truth.

I just feel that in this novel particularly, one can see how difficult it would be to break away from a way of life when, since birth, they have been taught to accept and embrace their "fate." And I suspect that most people would have no desire to break away if they didn't know the difference.

Interesting thought on whether they were actually clones, though. I hadn't thought of that.

I hadn't thought of it either - but I'm not sure it's likely. We're in a world where medical breakthroughs have happened in a big way; a world where cancer is cureable as a matter of course; surely therefore a world where cloning would be possible.

I think the idea of stealing/selling/obtaining unwanted babies and then using them for organ donation - and don't forget, this would be state-sponsored, too - wouldn't wash for one minute. Remember too, the reference to the Morningale scandal - or some name like that - haven't got my copy in front of me - where someone started breeding a race of super-intelligent children - and THAT caused an outcry - and eventually the closure of Hailsham and others like it.

From the Random House website:

Q: What was your starting point for Never Let Me Go?

A: Over the last fifteen years I kept writing pieces of a story about an odd group of "students" in the English countryside. I was never sure who these people were. I just knew they lived in wrecked farmhouses, and though they did a few typically student-like thingsÂargued over books, worked on the occasional essay, fell in and out of loveÂthere was no college campus or teacher anywhere in sight. I knew too that some strange fate hung over these young people, but I didnÂt know what. In my study at home, I have a lot of these short pieces, some going back as far as the early Â90s. IÂd wanted to write a novel about my students, but IÂd never got any further; IÂd always ended up writing some other quite different novel. Then around four years ago I heard a discussion on the radio about advances in biotechnology. I usually tune out when scientific discussions come on, but this time I listened, and the framework around these students of mine finally fell in place. I could see a way of writing a story that was simple, but very fundamental, about the sadness of the human condition.

Q: This novel is set in a recognizable England of the late 20th century. Yet it contains a key dystopian, almost sci-fi dimension youÂd normally expect to find in stories set in the future (such as Brave New World). Were you at any point tempted to set it in the future?

A: I was never tempted to set this story in the future. ThatÂs partly a personal thing. IÂm not very turned on by futuristic landscapes. Besides, I donÂt have the energy to think about what cars or shops or cup-holders would look like in a future civilization. And I didnÂt want to write anything that could be mistaken for a "prophecy." I wanted rather to write a story in which every reader might find an echo of his or her own life.

In any case, IÂd always seen the novel taking place in the England of the Â70s and Â80sÂthe England of my youth, I suppose. ItÂs an England far removed from the butlers-and-Rolls Royce England of, say, The Remains of the Day. I pictured England on an overcast day, flat bare fields, weak sunshine, drab streets, abandoned farms, empty roads. Apart from KathyÂs childhood memories, around which there could be a little sun and vibrancy, I wanted to paint an England with the kind of stark, chilly beauty I associate with certain remote rural areas and half-forgotten seaside towns.

Yes, you could say thereÂs a "dystopian" or "sci-fi" dimension. But I think of it more as an "alternative history" conceit. ItÂs more in the line of "What if Hitler had won?" or "What if Kennedy hadnÂt been assassinated?" The novel offers a version of Britain that might have existed by the late twentieth century if just one or two things had gone differently on the scientific front.

Q: Kathy, the narrator of this book, isnÂt nearly as buttoned-up as some of your previous...

Thanks for that interview; it reflects our discussion very well, doesn't it? I am really excited about this discussion because we all seem to have taken away different ideas and feelings from the novel, and it obviously made us all really think about important issues. I had not really made a connection between farm animals and the clones, but now that it is pointed out, it seems so obvious.

I wonder what Ishiguro is working on right now?

Thanks for posting the interview, Venusia. I especially love the last paragraph. I find the phrases "drip-fed little pieces of information" and "generous doses of deception" to be very insightful and hard to deny.

Martin -- I actually know a little bit about current biotech. It is very difficult to clone humans (here it is illegal) and very expensive. Plus you have the expense of "raising them." It is far easier to use stem cells to regrow organs and that is what will probably happen in the future.

If Ishiguro's society could be that callous towards these donors and turn a blind eye, I don't think recipients of organs would look carefully at the donor to determine if they were a clone or not. None of the kids resembled one another nor did they ever meet anyone else who did. If I were in the business of selling ogans and using clones, I think I'd try and find a super-clone, a universal donor, and make lots of copies. Maybe one from every blood type. It would be far cheaper and efficient and make business sense.

Since this story is told through Kathy's eyes and she was told she was a clone, we'll never know. But I wouldn't put it past the society that Kathy lived in.

A personal note--one of my male cousins found at about age 50 he desperately needed a kidney transplant. He was facing dialysis and the prognosis was not good when what was deemed a "perfect match" came his way. As I understand it, when this happens you go to the top of the list no matter your place in line. The good news is that the transplant was a complete success for him, and he is back at work and functioning normally. I believe he does take daily medication.

My daughter the nurse has talked about donors some, and one can only be grateful for those who sign the cards; but this book does present a picture we may like to avoid. I have signed a donor card; my husband quite definitely did not want to do so. I hope I can help someone, but I surely don't like the thought of "harvesting" organs and emphatically not cloning for use as donors.

I really don't know why the book appealed to me so much, but it did.

This may show up my lack of close reading, or seem a little fanciful, but it never seemed to me that it was organs they were harvesting. More like a "life force" or perhaps the precious bodily fluids we all recall. I recall Tommy, I think, mentioning trouble with his kidneys, plural, and I thought--why two? Wouldn't that have been the first thing to take? There was something else like that but my copy is also back at the lib so can't hunt it up.

One thing that puzzled me was why the trio thought that they were most likely cloned from lower levels of society- almost as if people were solicited to sell their cells for cloning. This seems counter-intuitive--seems as though society would demand the strongest and healthiest, and the process presumably would be less invasive that modern day blood donations.

I really liked that we were not preached to at all, unlike an upcoming discussion. I felt that the book was not intended to be about the socio-ethical issues but more about how human beings, however conceived, can be so easily brainwashed and manipulated. That was the horror of the book to me.

Thanks much for including the interview. I was fascinated by the idea that he had lived with this group of young people before he knew who they were. It reminded me of John Fowles, I think, and the Magus. May have book and author wrong, but he said he kept seeing this group of travelers, dark and shadowy, crossing a hill in the distance and he had to find out who they were and where they were going. I wonder how often a novel comes this way.

isabeaux - I don't think there is any ambiguity about this. When Miss Lucy in the pavilion interrupts those two boys and then gives a small speech to everyone there, she says "You'll become adults, then before you're old, before you're even middle-aged, you'll start to donate your vital organs." (And Tommy, btw, refers only to "all that kidney trouble").

Jan - I appreciate (and I am extremely pleased) that the most likely scenario today will be growing new organs from stem cells. (And also that cloning is extremely difficult). But Ishiguro's world is one where, presumably, cloning was something that they found out how to do in the fifties, and hence the research went in that direction - grow clones, and harvest them, rather than growing individual organs. And then everything else follows from that.

I'm not saying that your theory isn't possible - I just think it's an extra layer that isn't necessary. But I think I probably agree that I wouldn't put it past the society that Kathy lived in - I just think the practicalities would be difficult.

An interesting thought crossed my mind. The world does not seem very crowded, does it? I know that Kathy tends to drive the country lanes, but even so...when they go into that seaside town in Norfolk (Lowestoft? Great Yarmouth? It has to be a town, not a village, as it has a Woolworths), you get the impression there is practically no-one else around.

I wonder if this world also practices eugenics?

The Guardian Book Club chose this as their book of the month last week, and has a couple of interesting articles about it. It also hosted a discussion with Kazuo Ishiguro about the book, which will be available sometime today as a podcast. Unfortunately, I found out too late, and it was sold out...

Here is a link that might be useful: Guardian Book Club

Just dragging this back up again. The podcast about the novel is linked to below. It's fascinating to hear Ishiguro's ideas - he sees the clones as a metaphor of our lives, which we generally can't escape from - we're all going to die, it's just that with the clones, they are going to do it more quickly. And I had an "Of course!" moment, when he discussed the fact that in books and fairy stories, "love conquers all", and that was what Kathy and Tommy were hoping for - not a stay of execution, but at least a deferment of their fate.

Excellent discussion - really recommend it.

Here is a link that might be useful: Ishiguro on

Thanks a lot Martin_Z! Great interview- rare, because being an interview for a book club, it assumes that the people listening have read the book. Most interviews 'go around' the main themes, and definitely the details.
Well, it ruined one of my main theories, but that's life :)

Thanks for bringing this up again, Martin, and for including the link. I read The Sea a few weeks ago, and while I enjoyed it, I admit that I'm confounded as to why Ishiguro didn't win the Booker.

Finished "Never Let Me Go" A very good book that keeps you on the edge till the last page,
notwithstanding I knew the mystery in advance , because IÂve read some reviews, the more I went
deep in the story, the more my angst about characthers fate grew.

>Why is Kathy so blind to Ruth's faults?I think all the three of them, being raised, neither from parents nor from real relatives, are , of course,
less self-confident that the average kids. So Kathy needs Ruth approval, and Ruth, even less
self-confident than Kathy, in my opinion, needs to feel praised and accepted by her closer friends.

grelobe

I've been unable to enjoy either "Remains of the Day" or "Never Let Me Go". But I must admit I liked very much the film "White Countess" which is taken from one of his stories. He certainly has quite a following.

I just reread this this terrific string, and realized something about the Kathy/Ruth relationship. It actually makes perfect sense if you know/remember anything about the power dynamics of friendships among young (8-14 or so) girls. Basically, it's REALLY nasty. There's often a semi-abusive leader whom the others idolize. They also bend over backwards to stay on her "good" side and help her to belittle the one who has fallen out. But the fallen one is held close to the group, bound by this relationship dynamic and knows that eventually, it will be someone else's turn to be the victim.
Margaret Atwood's Cat's Eye illustrates this beautifully. It's an excellent novel. (and if you hated Handmaiden's Tale don't write off CE. I hated it too and it's nothing like CE.)

I know I am ridiculously late on this discussion, but in case some crazy person comes and rereads it the way I did, I'll still post my thoughts.

I had some comments on the original question of why Kathy is blind to Ruth's faults, but also some ideas about Kathy and Ruth's relationship (as was mentioned above), and the character of Ruth in general.

Kathy and Ruth's relationship, and the way Kathy was blind to Ruth's personality flaws irritated me immensely throughout the novel. As many people have mentioned, perhaps Kathy is "blind" because she has been conditioned to accept the fact that she doesnÂt understand everything. From the time she was young, there were facts about Hailsham, her future, and about her life in general that she didnÂt know. Yet questioning was discouragedÂperhaps not explicitly (Kathy notes that the guardians never forbid it), but at least de facto. The students would punish each other for curiosity, so Kathy learned to keep her mouth shut and not to spend too much time wondering about it either. She doesnÂt question, she accepts. Perhaps that is why she doesnÂt analyze or look deeper into RuthÂs actions, doesnÂt realize how selfish motives are governing RuthÂs decisions. She just accepts that that is the way Ruth is, it is only when Ruth makes her angry that she confronts her.

RuthÂacting manipulatively and selfishly throughout the novelÂirritates the hell out of the reader. Or at least me. Probably most people have known a person like Ruth, had a friend that was domineering, nice on the surface, but secretly deceptive and selfish. If I am honest with myself, I realize that, although I dislike it, I can identify with RuthÂs emotions and motives...if not her actions as well.

Ruth isn't an unusual child. On virtually any playground, you could find a child who wanted to be the "boss", the one in charge. Especially among girls, it is common to find one child who establishes her importance by blatantly displaying and calling attention to some possession or quality that she has and the others donÂt. (RuthÂs horses and her knowledge about the plot to kidnap Miss Geraldine). It is also completely natural that the girl would then proceed to solidify her power and her importance by exercising control over the others. For example, which girls are "cool" enough to spend time with her, or which students are "favored" enough to play with or even look at her special toy or possession.

In my opinion, it becomes clear to the reader throughout the novel that RuthÂs precious displays of her own importance are merely compensation for her insecurity and her fear that she is insignificant. (Which is completely logical when one realizes that they are seen by society as "creatures" not humans). This is subtley shown in the way she manipulates the other girls and alludes to being Miss GeraldineÂs favorite,. It becomes obvious during their years at the Cottages as she tries to impress the veterans. ...

I just started re-reading this book today. I read it a few years ago with my book club (no longer active now) and really enjoyed it. I hardly remember the details now, so I thought it would be a good time to refresh.

One thing that really struck me the second time around is the novel's time period -- late 1990s. I find it fascinating that Ishiguro decided to put the events of the novel in the past. Given that Kathy is 31, that would mean she was born in the 60s, which is a little strange considering (as Siobhan mentioned) Dolly the cloned sheep wasn't born until 1996.

Even so, I think the book is sort of timeless in a way, such that the exact year in which the events occurred isn't so important. After all, the students of Hailsham are in a school completely separated from the rest of the world, so even though some culture would bleed over into their school (e.g. through the "Sales"), they will always have a micro-culture, which could explain away any differences.

The children seem remarkably intelligent and observant to me. Perhaps because they sense an undercurrent of uneasiness which makes them super-aware?