|
Loading... When We Were Orphansby Kazuo Ishiguro
LibraryThing recommendationsMember recommendationsLoading...
won't like
will probably not like
will probably like
will like
will love Sign up for LibraryThing to find out whether you'll like this book. Christopher Banks is a well-respected British detective who seems to approach other people as he does clues, holding them at arm's length and dispassionately examining them. Yet we soon discover there is one unsolved mystery that haunts this rather aloof soul - the disappearance of his parents in Shanghai many years before. Ishiguro lays out a tantilising trail of clues, many of which are the sketchy remnants of Banks' sometimes misremembered childhood. Though the pace is more languid than is typical of a crime novel, the reader is quickly drawn into the quest for answers. While not always easy to follow, When We Were Orphans is a beautifully written novel which will satisfy fans of Ishiguro and the crime genre alike. Having just finished this book, I am left slightly frustrated and confused. For the first half of 'When We Were Orphans', I was completely engaged with the main character, enjoying Ishiguro's excellent writing and felt like the plot was building up to an exciting conclusion. However, as others have remarked in their reviews, the plot becomes a bit strange in the second half - I suspect that it deserves further contemplation. This book is certainly thought-provoking, and Ishiguro's prose is a pleasure to read. The book is cleverly crafted so that nothing is entirely clear to the reader, and you begin to doubt things that you previously accepted as truth. Certainly not the straightforward book that I initially expected, but very enjoyable nonetheless. Yes, Ishiguro's writing is certainly high quality. Yes, I realize some of the best books ever written require the reader to inhabit the mind of a thoroughly unlikable protagonist (e.g. Lolita). However, when I spend the vast majority of the book wanting the punch the protagonist in the throat and shake him out of his self-absorbed mania...well, that will make enjoying the story far more difficult. It's odd because Christopher Banks has a great deal in common with another Ishiguro protagonist--Stevens from Remains of the Day. Both leads tragically misinterpreted the world around them and are thoroughly representative of the interwar years in Britain. However, in "Remains," Ishiguro spent the book showing how Stevens's perceptions were flawed and more importantly has STEVENS himself come to the realization. Banks doesn't get what an obtuse asshole he's being until just before the epilogue--then Ishiguro skips ahead a couple of decades. This isn't a typical bad book because Ishiguro is so talented. His descriptions of war-torn China and the people forced to aid Christopher on his journey are fantastic and I probably would have liked this book more if I was allowed to get out of Christopher's head and into theirs. There are also moments when it sneaks through the narrative that despite Christopher's delusions of grandeur, the world sees him for the damaged person that he is. However, when the author asks you to see the world through the eyes of someone monstrously self-absorbed, these moments do not provide the welcome relief they otherwise could. If it was just a mediocre book, I would have put it down and never picked it back up. But because the author was so talented, I wanted to believe I would find something in Banks to hold onto besides endless, witless, obtuse self absorption. Unfortunately, that was not to be and I was stuck with the odious Banks to the bitter end. Christopher Banks spent a happy in childhood in Shanghai at the beginning of the 20th century as the son of privileged British ex patriates living in a large house supplied by the opium importer for which his father worked. He spent his days playing make-believe games with his best friend, the Japanese boy who lived next door. But then first his father, then his mother disappeared—kidnapped by ruthless Chinese criminals. An orphan, Christopher is sent to England where he grows up determined to become a famous detective like Sherlock Holmes and solve the mystery of his parents’ disappearance. Gradually, as Christopher narrates his story—alternating between 1930s London where he lives as an adult, having fulfilled his ambition of becoming a famous detective, and his recollections of his childhood in Shanghai—the reader becomes aware that the narrator’s view of reality is skewed. Indeed, it seems that Christopher is living in a fantasy world where he believes his parents are still alive, even decades later, and that his return to Shanghai to find them will somehow avert the disastrous war brewing between the Chinese and Japanese. By the time he gets back to China, we feel like we can trust nothing that Christopher says, and that is the genius of this novel. Christopher comes to an abrupt reckoning with the truth following a harrowing sequence in which he wends his way through a bombed-out Chinese slum, avoiding the battles going on in the streets around him while trying to locate the very house where he believes his parents are still being held. When he finally learns the truth, he returns to England defeated but still quite self-deluded. While on the surface, When We Were Orphans is a crime novel written in the style of Arthur Conan Doyle, in actuality it is a complex psychological study of a character stranded at a traumatic point in his childhood, unable to move beyond his fantasies.
When We Were Orphans may well be Ishiguro's most capacious book so far, in part because it stitches together his almost microscopic examination of self-delusion, as it plays out in lost men, with a much larger, often metaphorical look at complacency on a national scale.
References to this work on external resources.
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Book description |
|
(retrieved from Amazon Fri, 24 Apr 2009 07:58:16 -0400)
The first test round has been closed. Visit the Open Shelves Classification group for details.
Quick Links |
- The writing; it's like velvet. It's the first book I've read of Ishiguro's and I was impressed.
- Character of Sarah Hemmings; the pages with her sizzle.
- The villian; I won't give away the ending, but the bad guy is truly evil and the final confrontation is memorable.
- Setting in Shanghai; the description of imperialism, corruption, and the opium trade were of personal interest.
- The elements of nostalgia, the fogginess of memory, the 'good and evil' of man, lack or loss of parental love in childhood (for several), and the transience of life ... it all adds up to create a unique feeling.
What I disliked:
- There are aspects of the plot which are unbelievable; the delay in starting his investigation back in Shanghai, the odd expectation and certainty of success, an encounter that you'd expect to be one in a million, etc. Perhaps it's meant to all be symbolic of chasing childhood memories and the elusiveness of recovering the 'good days' and parental love, but I think this is a weak point.
- The personal mission to rescue parents and 'clean up Shanghai' seems disproportinately played up as 'root of evil' (head of serpent) relative to the crisis in the world at large. Likely meant as a microcosm and the need to fight evil on small scale to defeat it on a large scale, but it came across as hyperbole to me.
I would recommend the book and debated 4 stars. I think Ishiguro reached just a little too far but I give him credit for the artistry.
Favorite quotes:
"The evil ones are much too cunning for your ordinary decent citizen. They'll run rings around him, corrupt him, turn him against his fellows. I see it, I see it all the time now and it will grow worse. That's why we'll need to rely more than ever on the likes of you, my young friend. The few on our side every bit as clever as they are."
"I think it would be no bad thing if boys like you all grew up with a bit of everything. We might all treat each other a good deal better then. Be less of these wars for one thing. Oh yes. Perhaps one day, all these conflicts will end, and it won't be because of great statesmen or churches or organizations like this one. It'll be because people have changed. They'll be like you, Puffin. More a mixture. So why not become a mongrel? It's healthy."
"So identical were their pitiful whispers, the way their screams gave way to desperate entreaties, then returned to screams, that the notion came to me this was what each of us would go through on our way to death - that these terrible noises were as universal as the crying of newborn babies."
"'Those were splendid days', I said. 'We didn't know it then, of course, just how splendid they were. Children never do, I suppose.'"
"But for those like us, our fate is to face the world as orphans, chasing through long years the shadows of vanished parents. There is nothing for it but to try and see through our missions to the end, as best we can, for until we do so, we will be permitted no calm." (