The year is drawing to a close very quick and I am doing lots of reading as one is want to do when it gets cold outside and the nights get longer. There’s no surprise then that this time of year brings with it a implicit attraction to some of the Russian classics; of which I’ve been taking my time getting through The Brothers Karamazov.
However, when I finish one or two books from each part of the novel I put it down and dive into something else to give my brain time to catch up. Upon doing so this time I decided to pick up The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro, which I’ve just finished.
I tried reading Never Let Me Go in the past but it just could not hold my attention. However, The Remains of the Day was a profound and beautiful story. One I burned through over the course of three evenings.
What kept me coming back was the sorrow I felt for the main character the whole time. As I read, I could see he had devoted so much of his life to his idea of order that he missed out on so much. Under the guise of dignity, he closes himself off to the beauty of the human experience.
I suppose that is what happens to a lot of us. We will always have memories, but how we chose to spend our time determines how those memories return to us.
Heartbreaking, wonderfully crafted, and engrossing. This was a 10 out of 10 read for me.
Signal Intent 