I have to read Never Let Me Go again, and turn off my emotional reactions to examine the characters’ life trajectories .. I remember being upset w the ‘donations’ and the relationships among the clones.
Actually I remember my distress on being introduced to the ‘idea’ of creating human clones. Maybe I’ll give up this mental
torture and focus on Electing Kamala! And her crew of incoming co-workers in the Senate & House.
I had to read that last part twice to understand that the cousin's donation would have meant the end of the physicist's work -- I took it to mean that the cousin intended to fund the physicist's research. I am one who believes, rightly or wrongly, that pursuing one's vocation is freedom, but I also believe, rightly or wrongly, that a vocation is not imposed by society but is a harmonic resonance between the person and the society, achieved through effortful attention. Maybe rebellion, too, can be a vocation? Collective change is possible, but not inevitable.
thanks Hanif, for letting Slavoj have the newsletter today. I wish there was a less religiously tainted word for this than calling or vocation. I think of this feeling as "choosing for" and am acutely aware how priviliged I am to choose...
Very interesting essay by Zizek. 'Never Let Me Go' is an extraordinary work of fiction. (I haven't seen the film - I am sure it is superb with such a stellar cast. But I very rarely watch a film if it is based on a book I love). I have read it 3 times and each time there were tears in my eyes at the end - even though I knew the ending after the first read! As a child of the 70s/80s my favourite 'modern' British writers are naturally Hanif and also Amis, Faulks, McEwan and Ishiguro. But there is something special about Ishiguro. I have read all his novels and every one leaves a sort of haunting, lingering residue that stays with you - as others have said about him. I couldn't exactly say what it is about his style that makes him so unique - but he has an 'X' factor; he is a 'sui generis' writer.
Hope, Hanif. When hope goes, life can be ended, or so said a dear friend to me on the day she chose someone else to end her life. Be hopeful if you can. It is given. Hope takes you through until there is nothing left.
I reviwed this book against my will. It was for a magazine article and I didn't like it much but as a kidney transplant recipient it gave me a partcicular perspective.
Ishiguro is a skilled writer, that is clear. His ability to describe the poignancy of a particular moment in time is apparent at a number of points in the story and he is completely convincing in understanding and portraying the thoughts and feelings of Kathy, his female narrator/protagonist. Since the age of five the author lived in England with his Japanese parents. His reading of body language, tone of voice and emphasis on facial expressions strikes me as particularly typical of many Japanese people – largely because society there considers it selfish when individuals express their true feelings in public. Above all, Japan has given priority to "the group" in all it´s forms and the collective opinion is a crucial part of the world that Kathy also inhabits, at least until she moves away from institutional living.
Where Ishiguro is less convincing for me is with certain aspects of the scenario he is created. I had to wonder why there was never any stirrings of genuine rebellion amongst the "students" (especially the older ones) when you consider how widely the huge amount of reading they do takes them. Instead, they form a theory about how important their artwork is and how trying to prove their love for a partner could possibly "defer" the operations they know they must one day undergo.
The author also has what I found to be an annoying habit of using lightweight gossip among the characters to outline their personalities and he relies on overly long conversations to propel the storyline. When you think of what else could have been done with this futuristic scenario, you can’t help asking whether Ishiguro was a bit lily-livered about it all.
Zizek is drawn to these types of life-possibilities. There should be considerations that are more morally uplifting.
For instance, on the Boxing Day in question, our hero, Hanif, was - on his own - engaged with a weighty post-Christmas meditation and not holding on to Isabella as he now does.
I have to read Never Let Me Go again, and turn off my emotional reactions to examine the characters’ life trajectories .. I remember being upset w the ‘donations’ and the relationships among the clones.
Actually I remember my distress on being introduced to the ‘idea’ of creating human clones. Maybe I’ll give up this mental
torture and focus on Electing Kamala! And her crew of incoming co-workers in the Senate & House.
I had to read that last part twice to understand that the cousin's donation would have meant the end of the physicist's work -- I took it to mean that the cousin intended to fund the physicist's research. I am one who believes, rightly or wrongly, that pursuing one's vocation is freedom, but I also believe, rightly or wrongly, that a vocation is not imposed by society but is a harmonic resonance between the person and the society, achieved through effortful attention. Maybe rebellion, too, can be a vocation? Collective change is possible, but not inevitable.
Money is a vocation. You don't want it to chose you, comrade.
thanks Hanif, for letting Slavoj have the newsletter today. I wish there was a less religiously tainted word for this than calling or vocation. I think of this feeling as "choosing for" and am acutely aware how priviliged I am to choose...
How about love? Not love for a person, but love for a doing.
Very interesting essay by Zizek. 'Never Let Me Go' is an extraordinary work of fiction. (I haven't seen the film - I am sure it is superb with such a stellar cast. But I very rarely watch a film if it is based on a book I love). I have read it 3 times and each time there were tears in my eyes at the end - even though I knew the ending after the first read! As a child of the 70s/80s my favourite 'modern' British writers are naturally Hanif and also Amis, Faulks, McEwan and Ishiguro. But there is something special about Ishiguro. I have read all his novels and every one leaves a sort of haunting, lingering residue that stays with you - as others have said about him. I couldn't exactly say what it is about his style that makes him so unique - but he has an 'X' factor; he is a 'sui generis' writer.
Hope, Hanif. When hope goes, life can be ended, or so said a dear friend to me on the day she chose someone else to end her life. Be hopeful if you can. It is given. Hope takes you through until there is nothing left.
I reviwed this book against my will. It was for a magazine article and I didn't like it much but as a kidney transplant recipient it gave me a partcicular perspective.
Ishiguro is a skilled writer, that is clear. His ability to describe the poignancy of a particular moment in time is apparent at a number of points in the story and he is completely convincing in understanding and portraying the thoughts and feelings of Kathy, his female narrator/protagonist. Since the age of five the author lived in England with his Japanese parents. His reading of body language, tone of voice and emphasis on facial expressions strikes me as particularly typical of many Japanese people – largely because society there considers it selfish when individuals express their true feelings in public. Above all, Japan has given priority to "the group" in all it´s forms and the collective opinion is a crucial part of the world that Kathy also inhabits, at least until she moves away from institutional living.
Where Ishiguro is less convincing for me is with certain aspects of the scenario he is created. I had to wonder why there was never any stirrings of genuine rebellion amongst the "students" (especially the older ones) when you consider how widely the huge amount of reading they do takes them. Instead, they form a theory about how important their artwork is and how trying to prove their love for a partner could possibly "defer" the operations they know they must one day undergo.
The author also has what I found to be an annoying habit of using lightweight gossip among the characters to outline their personalities and he relies on overly long conversations to propel the storyline. When you think of what else could have been done with this futuristic scenario, you can’t help asking whether Ishiguro was a bit lily-livered about it all.
https://bretthetherington.net/2014/04/20/never-let-me-go/
Wow.
Zizek is drawn to these types of life-possibilities. There should be considerations that are more morally uplifting.
For instance, on the Boxing Day in question, our hero, Hanif, was - on his own - engaged with a weighty post-Christmas meditation and not holding on to Isabella as he now does.
Thank you, comrade.
This was a lovely and well observed piece. Thanks for sharing.