| Title | : | The Buried Giant |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 030727103X |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9780307271037 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Hardcover |
| Number of Pages | : | 317 |
| Publication | : | First published March 3, 2015 |
| Awards | : | World Fantasy Award Best Novel (2016), Mythopoeic Fantasy Award Adult Literature (2016), Tähtifantasia Award (2017), Goodreads Choice Award Fantasy (2015), International Dublin Literary Award (2017) |
The Buried Giant begins as a couple set off across a troubled land of mist and rain in the hope of finding a son they have not seen in years.
Sometimes savage, often intensely moving, Kazuo Ishiguro's first novel in nearly a decade is about lost memories, love, revenge, and war.
Included on TIME Magazine's "THE 100 BEST FANTASY BOOKS OF ALL TIME"
The Buried Giant Reviews
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I have only read one other Ishiguro novel and that is
Never Let Me Go. Nevertheless, I too was intrigued about what would happen when a highly-acclaimed author of literary fiction transitioned into fantasy. Unfortunately, having read the book, I'm still not even sure.
What happened here? It's one of those novels where I can't help wondering if there's some underlying symbolism or metaphorical brilliance that totally went over my head. It's a simplistic, emotionally-detached and - at times - boring story, so I'm inclined to assume Ishiguro was aiming at smarter people than me who would take something deeper from it.
But I don't think so. I find myself leaning towards
Craig's interpretation that Isiguro gives us the information and lets us decide what to do with it. Interpret as you will, I guess. Especially with that ending that Kirkus believes to be "
one that will shock you". Well, I would not say I was shocked. I would say I was mildly surprised that Ishiguro had convinced me to keep reading the last 300 pages when all I got was a fizzled out ending and no answers.
Screw subtlety and interpretation! I want answers, dammit.
Credit where it's due: I was very intrigued in the beginning. I'm fascinated by all kinds of stories about memory and memory loss, whether it's a thriller like
The Girl on the Train, a sad contemporary like
Still Alice or a fantasy like this. My memories define who I am and the thought of losing them is terrifying to me. Considering that this book opens on a premise of an entire village experiencing weird memory loss - forgetting people who have left, sons they haven't seen in a while, or arguments they just had that morning - I was ready to love it.
But the exploration of this memory loss with Axl and Beatrice was unsatisfying and really damn repetitive after a while. I guess people who constantly forget what they have said are likely to keep saying it again but, hell, it makes for a tedious read. I grew tired of hearing about how their son was waiting for them, how Beatrice experienced some pain but, oh, it was nothing really, how maybe they had an argument but neither can remember so let's forget it, and pretty much everything about King Arthur was mind-numbing.
Also, I called this emotionally-detached and I'd like to explain what I mean. I don't think we ever develop an emotional connection with the characters. Axl and Beatrice have no personality (does anyone?) and speak so formally to one another. It's so... strange. This has to be the most polite fantasy I've ever read. I know this is set just after the Roman period in Britain but, come on, I find it difficult to believe an old couple spoke to each other like this. And not just them, there are battles and bloodshed and everything is so weirdly polite.
Person 1: I say, old chap, I'm afraid I'm going to have to slay you!
Person 2: Dear me, that is unfortunate. But fight I shall and perhaps I will win!
Yeah, that's not a direct quote, but I swear there are pieces of dialogue like that.
And Axl calls Beatrice "princess" all the time. ALL THE TIME. I know you might be thinking that's sweet, but ALL THE TIME. At the end of every sentence, he addresses her as "princess". When they're afraid for their lives, he manages to find time to slip "princess" into every thing he says.
This book is weird enough that I'm sure it'll inspire many exciting interpretations, but my imagination isn't playing. It's a boring journey with boring characters and a fabulously anticlimactic non-ending.
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(B) 72% | More than Satisfactory
Notes: There’s meaning to be taken from its final few chapters, though the journey there is tiresome, plodding and colorless. -
Is it better to remember? Or can we only live with ourselves and one another through ignorance?
Kazuo Ishiguro writes a spellbinding fable of one elderly couple's quest for memory. Their journey takes us deep into a nostalgically rendered Dark Age. A post-Arthurian Britain inhabited by the myths and heroes of those isles, and a few more mythic traditions as well. Yet it is a fragile Britain where everything balances on the knife edge: social mores, the civilizational veneer, lifelong marital love, peace itself. Memory plays a double-role here. It holds everything together, pulling back from the edge, while also supplying that gentle, lethal nudge off the cliff. The memory of an infidelity. Of wartime barbarities. Of a lost son. Would we want to forget these things for the sake of contentment but while remaining aware of the veil that separates us from an authentic past? Shades of
Orpheus.
In Ishiguro's Edenic world, his characters desire a god-like knowledge of the past but at what personal cost? Will they survive? Or will they tip their world into the abyss?
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The Buried Giant is a subtle and melancholy reflection on memory and forgetfulness and the roles they play both in the lives of individuals and those of countries and peoples. It is the kind of novel that yields up its secrets gradually, and it’s worth persisting with even if you are not initially convinced. It’s a very distinctive work—distinctive to the point of eccentricity—and the reviews have been accordingly mixed, some very negative. To enjoy it, you have to cede to its peculiar, incantatory rhythms, and its layered, sedimentary way of building up meaning. If you do, the rewards are quite rich.
The headline news about this novel, Ishuguro’s first in ten years, is all about its flirtation with the fantasy genre.“Kazuo Ishiguro ventures into Tolkein territory” is how The Guardian headed its review. You shouldn’t let that put you off if you’re not a fan of fantasy literature, any more than you should be put off
Never Let Me Go if you’re not drawn to science fiction.
It’s true that, at a literal level, The Buried Giant’s setting is pure fantasy. The narrative unfolds in a remote, post-Arthurian England of Britons and Saxons and knights and ogres and evil monks and dragons and pixies (yes, pixies), with all the potential silliness that implies. That doesn’t make The Buried Giant a fantasy novel, though. In some senses, I think Ishiguro is tending to opt for fantastic—and genreish and cliché-ridden—narrative territory in his later novels precisely in order to demote the importance of the literal level in his fiction; he has spoken in interviews of his annoyance at readers taking
An Artist of the Floating World as being “about” Japan, or
The Remains of the Day “about” upstairs-downstairs English country house life.
The Buried Giant isn’t “about” pre-Saxon England in any meaningful sense. The Arthurian setting seems to have been chosen to resonate with the novel’s themes of memory and forgetting—this is both a factually "forgotten" and a mythologically much-remembered time in English history—and also to evoke medieval romance, as a formal model for this kind of fabulistic, semi-allegorical narrative mode.The Buried Giant is interested in the way in which memory shapes national identities, often to devastating and destructive effect. Embedding a forgotten genocide within a period of English fantasy history traditionally mythologized as a golden age of chivalry is a potent way of exploring this theme; and yet it is purely a vehicle. The buried giants and poisoned scapegoats and black, collective guilts that haunt this novel are those of the present-day world. -
1 star - I don't often feel guilty at not being able to finish a book, but I do this time. It's not like I didn't try. I made three attempts to read it.
1. I got the book. I read a few chapters. The characters didn't have any personalities, the descriptions of them didn't bring them to life at all and I wasn't enamoured of the setting either. So I gave it up.
2. Tried the audio book. Was it going to be any better listening to the story paper-dry protagonists and their fantasy quest. No. My mind kept blanking out and thinking important thoughts like did I add "kitchen paper" to the shopping list or did I specify that nice soft Viva one? Stuff like that.
3. Last attempt, I got the BBC abridged version. Well, I thought, I'm bound to be able to make it through only 2.5 hours of prose that concentrates on the essence of the book. Failed.
It wasn't just that the characters never seemed to be anyone, it was that I kept thinking they were symbols for something and that is why a master author, as Ishiguro certainly is, had written them in such a flat way. But symbols for who or what? I never worked it out.
All I got from the book was it was repetitious which made it tedious and not only were the characters forgetting everything, so was I. It never held my attention. So finally, I gave it up. And I feel guilty.
Maybe if I'd made it to the end, I would have found it a brilliant piece of writing with endless golden vistas of revelations that slowly appear, delighting with each new and surprising element. But I'll never know, I couldn't wait that long, couldn't get to that point. Tedium overtook me and whispered in my ear 'lots of books on the to-be-read list' and I gave in and gave up. -
Oh boy, this is the book that caused such uproar among Ishiguro fans! Before you pick up this novel, please believe me when I say this is going to be nothing like any of his previous work. So if you are resistant to change, you might want to skip this one. Don’t expect it to be The Remains of the Day, and definitely don’t think this is going to be the next Never Let Me Go. In fact this book won’t even be set in our own time or even plane of reality. On the surface of it all, The Buried Giant is essentially a fantasy novel.
Before you are going to throw in the towel though, let me assure you that The Buried Giant still has the impeccable prose and the craftsmanship one comes to expect from Ishiguro. If all fantasy novels were written like this, I wouldn’t struggle so much with the genre. Under its surface, there are philosophical musings and literary allusions, exploration of death and morality, and of course the heartbreaking finale that suddenly explains everything and leaves you breathless. I admire authors that take a step outside of their comfort zones, and Ishiguro surely made a leap here, even by his own standards. I enjoyed his work before, but now I’m really paying attention to this guy.
The story begins literally with a blank slate. We are introduced to the world where a strange calamity, referred to only as “the mist”, makes everyone forget most of their lives. The inhabitants of the village, where elderly Beatrice and Axl reside, go through the motions every day, each one not unlike the other, and never wonder why they cannot recall things that should never be forgotten. One day Beatrice vaguely remembers that the two of them have a son that lives in a different village, and convinces Axl to travel there so they could be together again. On their way they meet fascinating characters, including one from the Arthurian legends, and the peculiar boatman who just might be a more formidable figure than what’s revealed at first. As Beatrice and Axl remember more, and further details about “the mist” are revealed, so does the story unfold before the reader.
So you think you are not a fantasy reader? Do ogres and pixies turn you off from any book that dares to mention them? Never fear. These are just devices used to tell the same story of love and loss that any literary fiction utilizes, just packaged differently. Ishiguro comments on what it means to love your country and make cruel choices out of good intentions, and the neverending cycle of war and hate that plagues the world just by exploring an aging knight’s quest. He poses theological questions on merits of true love and eternity, by letting us join Beatrice and Axl on their journey across the country. He makes us wonder whether things are better left forgotten, and how memories affect who we are today and how we perceive the world before us. Combine it with masterful narration, and I don’t even know what else a reader might need to be happy with the book.While Tolkien might bring similar issues of turmoil and moral dilemmas in his work, Ishiguro’s fantasy is only a means to an end, and not the end in itself.
If you find comfort in fables, give this book a shot.
If you love deeply touching endings, give this book a shot.
If you enjoy authors who take chances, give this book a shot. -
The Buried Giant, Kazuo Ishiguro
The Buried Giant is a fantasy novel by Nobel Prize-winning British writer Kazuo Ishiguro, published in March 2015. The book has been translated into French, German, Spanish and Italian.
Following the death of King Arthur, Saxons and Britons live in harmony. Along with everyone else in their village, Axl and Beatrice, an elderly Briton couple, suffer from severe selective amnesia that they call the 'mist'.
Although barely able to remember, they feel sure that they once had a son, and they decide to travel to a village several days' walk away to seek him out. They stay at a Saxon village where two ogres have dragged off a boy named Edwin. A visiting Saxon warrior, Wistan, kills the ogres and rescues Edwin who is discovered to have a wound, believed to be an ogre-bite. The superstitious villagers attempt to kill the boy, but Wistan rescues him and joins Axl and Beatrice on their journey, hoping to leave Edwin at the son's village.
The group heads to a monastery to consult with Jonus, a wise monk, about a pain in Beatrice's side. They meet the elderly Sir Gawain, nephew of King Arthur, who - as is well known - was tasked decades ago with slaying the she-dragon Querig, but who has never succeeded.
Wistan reveals that he was sent by the Saxon king to slay Querig out of concern that she would be used by Lord Brennus, king of the Britons, to kill Saxons. The travellers are treated with hospitality at the monastery, but are informed by Jonus that most of the monks are corrupt.
Sir Gawain has spoken to the abbot, believing he will protect the four. Instead, the abbot informs Lord Brennus who sends soldiers to murder them. As an experienced warrior, Wistan realises that the monastery was originally built as a fort, and he makes use of its structure to trap and kill the soldiers.
Sir Gawain, riding on alone, recalls how, many years earlier, King Arthur had ordered the extermination of many Saxon villages. The massacre had been a betrayal of the peace-treaties brokered by Axl, who had at the time been Arthur's envoy, although he has now forgotten it.
Arthur also ordered that Querig be brought to the lair where she now lives, and that a spell be cast turning her breath into an oblivion-inducing mist, causing the Saxons to forget about the massacres.
Axl and Beatrice become separated from Wistan and Edwin, and they travel on alone. They are persuaded by a girl to take a poisoned goat to Querig's lair. Sir Gawain joins them and shows the way. Travelling with Wistan, Edwin has been hearing a voice that he identifies as his lost mother, calling him to her. Wistan realises that Edwin's wound has been caused by a baby dragon and that Edwin can lead him to Querig. As they approach, Edwin becomes increasingly crazed, and has to be restrained.
Sir Gawain reveals that his duty was not in fact to slay Querig, but to protect her in order to maintain the mist. Wistan challenges Gawain to a duel and kills him. He proceeds to slay Querig causing Edwin's madness to depart and the mist to dissipate, restoring the people's memories. He laments that "the giant, once well buried, now stirs": his action will cause the old animosities between Saxon and Briton to return, leading to a new war.
Axl and Beatrice are finally able to recall that their son had died many years ago of the plague. They meet a ferryman who offers to row the old couple over to an island where they can be close to him in perpetuity. Normally, he says, married couples have to dwell on the island separately and always apart, but in rare cases couples whose love is deep and profound may remain together.
The ferryman tells Axl and Beatrice that they qualify, but as they are about to be rowed over the waves increase and he informs them that he can carry only one person at a time. Axl is suspicious that the ferryman intends to trick them into separating forever, but Beatrice believes the man to be truthful and asks Axl to wait on the shore while she is taken over. The novel ends without resolution, as Axl reluctantly agrees.
تاریخ نخستین خوانش روز هفتم ماه اکتبر سال2016میلادی
عنوان: غول مدفون؛ نویسنده: کازوئو ایشی گورو؛ مترجم: فرمهر امیردوست؛ تهران، نشر میلکان؛ سال1394؛ در272ص؛ شابک9786007845066؛ موضوع داستانهای نویسندگان ژاپنی مقیم بریتانیا - سده 21م
اکسل و بئاتریس؛ در جستجوی پسرشان هستند؛ آنها فراموش کرده اند چطور فرزندشان را از دست داده اند؛ فراموشی آنها به این دلیل است که ساکنان جهان افسانه ای «غول مدفون»؛ بیمار هستند؛ آنها یادمانهای شخصی و تاریخی خویش را، نمیتوانند به یاد آورند؛ داستان فضایی رویاگونه، و پرسشهایی از خوانشگر درباره فقدان و یادمان دارد
چکیده: دنیا جای عجیبی شده است؛ «ساکسون»ها و «برایتون»ها پس از جنگی ویرانگر و خانمانسوز، حالا در صلح زندگی میکنند؛ بهای این صلح شکننده، فراموشی است؛ فراموشی در این سرزمین، همچون یک مه فراگیر، تمام مردمان را، مبتلا کرده است؛ مه فراموشی، از نفس اژدهایی میآید، که یادمانهای مردمان را پاک کرده؛ دیگر کسی «عشق»، «امید»، «جنگ» و «خونخواهی» را، به یاد نمیآورد؛ در میان مردمان گنگ و خودباخته، زن و شوهری کهنسال، به نامهای «اکسل» و «بئاتریس»، یادمانهای مبهمی از پسر گمشده ی خویش دارند؛ آنها برای پیدا کردن فرزندشان، سفری پر از ماجرا، با دلهره و خطر را، آغاز میکنند؛ که پایان آن، فاش شدن راز بزرگ «غول مدفون» است
موراکامی، در مقدمه ی سری نوشتارهای خویش، درباره ی آثار «ایشی گورو»؛ مینویسند: «هر یک از رمانهای ایشی گورو، گامی جدید است...» و هر بار که کتابی تازه از او به چاپ میرسد، میگویند «خود را با عجله به کتابفروشی میرسانم...»؛ اکنون، پس از یک دهه انتظار، اشتیاق برای اثر تازه ی «ایشی گورو»، چندین برابر شده، و همانطور که «موراکامی» اشاره میکنند، این اثر نیز، گامی است کاملا تازه، و کم سابقه؛ «غول مدفون»، داستانی فانتزیست، اما با وجود داشتن «غول» و «پری»، و «مه اسرارآمیز»، بازگویی اثر، «زمینی»، «آشنا»، و واقعگرایانه است؛ «ایشی گورو» در «غول مدفون»، سبک «روایی واقعگرایانه»ی کتاب خویش «بازمانده ی روز»، و سبک «علمی تخیلی» کتاب دیگرشان «هرگز رهایم مکن» را، استادانه در هم آمیخته اند، و جهانی نو و تازه آفریده اند؛ همانگونه که پیشتر نیز نوشتم، دو قهرمان داستان، «آکسل» و «بئاتریس»، زوج کهنسالی هستند، که برای یافتن پسر گم شده شان، راهی سفر میشوند؛ این سفر در «انگلستان باستان» رخ میدهد، در آن زمانیکه «ساکسون»ها، و «بریتون»ها، پس از جنگی خانمانسوز، در صلحی شکننده، روزگار میگذرانند، صلحی که، بر اثر فراموشی همه گیر، ایجاد شده؛ فراموشی به شکل مه، در کل سرزمین پخش شده، مهی که نتیجه ی نفس «کوئریگ» اژدهاست، مهی که یادمانهای جنگ، عشق، و نفرت، و خونخواهی را، از یاد مردمان برده است؛ «آکسل» و «بئاتریس» در سفر، با آدمهای تازه ای روبرو میشوند؛ با یک جنگجوی جوان «ساکسون»؛ که به دنبال عدالت است، پسری که زخمی اسرارآمیز بر بدن خویش دارد، و دنبال مادرش میگردد، «سر گوین (تنها بازمانده ی شوالیه های آرتور افسانه ای)»؛ که سالهاست ماموریت دارد اژدها را بکشد، و...؛ «غول مدفون» همان رازی است، که آرام آرام گشوده، و به نتیجه ای نامتنظره، پایان مییابد؛ در پایان، هیبت غول، به کل جلوی چشم خوانشگر، قرار میگیرد، بزرگواریش را درک میکنیم، و میفهمیم، اصلا برای چه نخست دفن شده بود؛ شیوه ی بازگویی این راز، اوج هنر «ایشی گورو»، برای آفرینش جهانی شناور است؛ و در نهایت خوانشگر، با این پرسش اصلی رودررو میشود: «آیا باید گذشته را فراموش کرد، تا به آرامش رسید؟»؛ در رمان «ایشی گورو» نیز، همانند خود زندگی، عشق، بر همه چیز جز مرگ، چیره میشود
نقل نمونه ای از متن: («بئاتریس» در گوش «اکسل» گفت: «از قرار معلوم، چند ساعت پیش، یکی از مردهای دهکده، نفس نفس زنان با گَل و گردن زخم�� برگشته توی ده، و وقتی نفسش جا آمده، گفته با برادر و برادرزاده اش، که یک پسربچه ی دوازده ساله است، سر جای همیشگیشان لب رودخانه ماهی میگرفتند، که دو تا غول، بهشان حمله میکنند؛ ولی مرد میگوید، که غولها از این غولهای معمولی نبودند؛ وحشت انگیز بودند، و فرزتر و مکارتر از هر غولیکه این مرد به عمرش دیده بوده؛ این دیوها -چون این دهاتیها بهشان میگویند دیو- برادرش را جابجا کشته اند، و پسرش را هم زنده زنده، و دست و پا زنان، با خود برده اند؛ خود مرد زخمی هم، بعد از تعقیب و گریزی طولانی لب رودخانه، بالاخره توانسته قسر دربرود، و میگوید خرخرهای شوم آنها را، تمام مدت؛ از پشت سر میشنیده؛ که نزدیکش میشدند؛ ولی دست آخر، آنقدر میدود، که قالشان میگذارد)؛ پایان نقل
تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 06/10/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 10/08/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی -
It was a curious experience to read this novel about memory and loss so soon after reading Piranesi, a novel interested in precisely the same thing. Both novels were dreamy, withholding, patient, dreadful (in the sense of full of dread, not dreadful novels!). I found Piranesi warmer and sadder, but I expect some readers might find this one more accessible, depending on your own personal baggage with loss, trauma, and forgiveness.
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Foolishness, sir. How can old wounds heal while maggots linger so richly? Or a peace hold for ever built on slaughter and a magician's trickery? I see how devoutly you wish it, for your old horrors to crumble as dust. Yet they await in the soil as white bones for men to uncover (p327)
Uncanny, haunting, I must have read this novel at the right time for me as it found a sure spot under my skin and disturbed my normally peaceful sleep.
It seems to me that Ishiguro is one of those writers who is always writing the same novel, or better said, has an ideal novel inside himself that he approaches from different angles. Each published book an attempt, as on to a mountain, on a different face.
I say this because reading the sense of the concern about memory, the workings of the mind, the secrets we hide from ourselves came across to me as being essentially the same here as in
The Artist of the Floating World,
When we were Orphans, and what I recall of
The remains of the Day - though I have the horrible feeling, awful for a reader to confess to that I know the last only from the film. That here there are dragons, ogres, and hobbit like Britons rather than faded artists of Japanese Imperialism is surface ephemera. The theme I take to be the same.
Impossible to imagine how a Japanese person, resident in Britain - two Imperial countries with bloody histories that those who have experienced them from a different perspective find that they have not come to terms with - since the age of five might have become so exercised with the issue of people hiding things that they would prefer not to admit to from themselves. Not that the value of forgetfulness, allowing the conscience to sleep with fewer troubles, is a quality unique to those two imperial peoples.
In this novel the enforced loss of memory has kept the peace, but prevented healing or true reconciliation. Everything has been hidden. Everybody's past lost. Even every individual couple are impacted by this down to our two principal view point characters the aged Beatrice and Axl. Lone fragments recalled are a source of uncertainty. But part of memory can be resentment, anger, hatred all of which are lost in the collective amnesia. Knowledge, even - or particularly- self knowledge, comes at a cost. Oedipus told us that and how meaningful these old stories still are to us.
I was bowled over and completely impressed by this story, another King Arthur story and it is true that I've read plenty since I was small, yet oddly this one captured for me the feeling of Sir Gawaine lost in hill country beyond Cheshire searching for the Green Chapel that combined in my childish imagination with being lost in fog wandering through the park on the way to Junior school, more than many another. Not a book I'll recommend to everyone, but certainly very strongly to some.
A couple may claim to be bonded by love, but we boatmen may see instead resentment, anger, even hatred. Or a great barrenness. Sometimes a fear of loneliness and nothing more (p49) -
Πολλούς αιώνες πριν σε μακρινά και απομονωμένα μέρη της Αγγλίας ζουν άνθρωποι μέσα στη λησμονιά.
Τεράστιες περιοχές έρημες και εγκαταλειμμενες ειναι το σκηνικό που περιγράφεται με αριστοτεχνικό τροπο και μέσα σε μικρές κοινότητες πανομοιότυπες ζουν Βρετανοί και Σαξονες με σημαία τους την ομίχλη και τη λήθη.
Δυο στοιχεία που πρωτοστατούν σε όλο το βιβλίο και σε κάνουν να αισθάνεσαι μια παράξενη θλίψη, μια ανεξήγητη νοσταλγία και μια τρυφερότητα συμπόνοιας.
Το παραμύθι του μεσαίωνα ξεκινά με ένα ζευγάρι ηλικιωμένων Βρετανών που ξεκινούν ένα μεγάλο και επικίνδυνο ταξίδι με σκοπό να βρουν το παιδί τους σε κάποια άλλη λησμονημένη περιοχή.
Ταξίδι στην "Ιθάκη" τους με πολλές γνωριμίες και περιπέτειες να τους ��ροκύπτουν στην πορεία και η αφήγηση του συγγραφέα τοσο αλλιώτικη και τρυφερή που ζεις κάθε λεπτό έντονα τις αναμνήσεις και τα παθήματα τους.
Δεν μπορώ να χαρακτηρίσω αυτό το βιβλίο με κοινότοπα λόγια ούτε να το παραδεχτώ ως σπουδαίο λογοτεχνικό έργο. Όμως κατάφερε να με συνεπάρει και να με κάνει να αισθανθώ μόνη μέσα στις κοιλάδες της λησμονιάς τρέμοντας από φόβο μην ξεχάσω..τη ζωή μου.
Φτάνοντας στην τελευταία σελίδα ολα τα μηνύματα του "θαμμένου γίγαντα" -ήδη γνωστά και αμιγώς ανθρώπινα- είχαν φτάσει με επιτυχία στην ψυχή μου μαζί με μπόλικη λύπη - θλίψη και μη αναστρέψιμη πραγματικότητα.
Καλή ανάγνωση!
Πολλούς ασπασμούς!
Τιμής ενεκέν #Νόμπελ -
Updated 4/30/2015: For context, you should know that I’ve read three previous Ishiguro novels: The Remains of the Day, Never Let Me Go, and We Were Orphans. I disliked We Were Orphans pretty strongly, and liked Never Let Me Go (probably not as much as I would have if I hadn’t been spoiled for it, and I’d probably like it better on re-read). But Remains of the Day is one of my favorite books of all time. Like, if I had a top ten list of books that represent me and my inner life, this would be on it. So yeah, I had hopeful expectations for this book, but I also knew that sometimes Ishiguro and I just aren’t on the same wavelength. This is one of those times.
The Buried Giant is very deliberately constructed, and as piece of literature I do think it has value. I enjoy thinking about it on an intellectual level, but due to stylistic choices Ishiguro made, I did not connect with it the way I have with his writing before.
The story takes place in post-Arthurian Britain at a time when the Saxons and Britons were living in tenuous peace with one another. Our heroes are Axl and Beatrice, an elderly married couple who set out one day from their village to seek out their long lost son, whom they barely remember. This is when we learn that the whole country is suffering from a sort of collective amnesia caused by what Axl and Beatrice call ‘the mist.’ Along the way to their son’s village, they join up with a Saxon knight and a young Saxon boy, as well as an ancient Arthurian knight who has a sacred mission entrusted to him by King Arthur himself. Soon Axl and Beatrice’s journey becomes entangled with that of their companions, and soon they realize they must help to slay a dragon in order to end the curse of the mist and retrieve their memories, not just of their son, but of their entire long lives together, although they recognize that with the good memories the bad will return as well.
What follows is a novel that is part allegory (although I hesitate to actually call it that, as with allegory there are only ever direct correlations between ideas, and here they’re more general), part fable, part meditation on memory, violence and revenge. There were individual sections of this book where I found the writing beautiful, and parts where the plights of the characters genuinely moved me, and as discussed previously, I found the whole intellectually interesting. However, I’m not sure Ishiguro’s sparse and deceptively simple style, which worked so well in his previous novels as a way to conceal truths barely hidden under the surface in a more realistic world, worked as well here. Fantasy can be used successfully towards the same function, so the fact that he had the fantasy itself softening his message on top of that seemingly simplistic style meant I had to really work to be engaged while reading. It was almost a soporific effect on me, although I read the book very quickly. It’s more like it put my emotions to sleep and not my brain, and my emotions are my favorite part of reading.
All in all: glad I read, probably won't be revisiting in the future, would probably be interested in some deep discussion to unpack it though.
Updated 4/22/2015: Well. This was a book.
No, just kidding. Sort of.
I liked it, but I didn't love it. Honestly, I subtracted almost a whole star just because Axl kept calling his wife "princess" every other sentence.
But it's a really interesting book that I will have a lot to say about when I can wrap my head around it. For now, you guys should totally
check out the interview Kazuo Ishiguro gave to the podcast Geek's Guide to the Galaxy. They talk a lot about how fantasy is perceived by the traditional literary community, an argument which Ishiguro unknowingly stepped in when he decided to write a story using fantasy elements and structures. It's a really interesting conversation, but the best part is when he turns the conversation on the interviewer and starts to go all fantasy noob. For the entire last thirty minutes of the interview, Ishiguro asks the guy all these questions about what fantasy books he should read, whether Neil Gaiman is cool, who is the typical age group for fantasy, what adult fantasy can do. I was laughing at him while listening because it was just sort of surreal to see this author whose books I've loved initiating himself into this genre I love, but it was sweet. I like the guy.
Anyway, for now rating this 3.5 stars. Full review later.
4/18/2014: Not that any of his books will ever live up to Remains of the Day:
But I am going to eat this shit up with a spoon. -
I am an Ishiguro enthusiast if ever there was one. I have read his oeuvre. That's why it pains me a little to say that I found The Buried Giant disappointing. I say this not because I think Ishiguro's skills as a novelist are one whit duller than usual. But because I did not care for the story or its characters. They did not engage me. He's going after a new readership with this book. He's going after the vast fantasy market. That's fine. A writer must write what he must write. Just don't expect me to tag along. In abeyance here is Ishiguro's wonderful sense of humor. The book is stolidly earnest in its depiction of an ogre infested, post Arthurian, post Roman Britain.
The first three chapters are straightforward chronology. I suppose I'm used not only to Ishiguro's wit, but also to his keen ability to shift about in time. I understand that a straightforward, unwavering chronology to open the book will have a greater appeal to less nimble readers, but for me — a reader of subtle capacities — it was an absolute slog. Only with the introduction of the boy, Edwin, does the narrative start to deepen, but it never achieves true Ishiguroian depths. What do I care about this dead world of British myth?* I've never really cared for Malory's Round Table tales. They're terribly one-dimensional. I tried to read a recent treatment by Peter Ackroyd but it was just so shallow storywise, and redundant. Ishiguro returns the favor. How many times do we have to be reminded that it's better to forget than to remember? Not to mention the interminable politeness of the chivalric code, which, if you do a little reading, you will discover was the exception rather than the rule. Most knights were out for booty and they murdered anyone who got in the way of that goal. Unhindered knights turned Europe into a charnal house. Read Sir Steven Runciman's
A History of the Crusades or Norman Cohn's
Pursuit of the Millennium. Anyway, for me the novel's a dud, though I suspect it will appeal to many new readers. Recommended with reservations. I suppose it's mandatory if you've read all of Ishiguro.
I've written reviews of other Ishiguro novels. These include
A View of Pale Hills,
An Artist of the Floating World,
When We Were Orphans and
The Unconsoled.
*With one exception, I do admire W.S. Merwin's translation of
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: A New Verse Translation, but more for the poetry than for the myth.
P.S. I disagree with Ms. Kakutani's view (NYT) that Ishiguro's prose here is "ham handed." It is not. He writes as vividly as ever, it's just that the story is a bore. He had to stumble sooner or later. Let's be happy he's gotten this one behind him. -
'Don’t worry, princess.'
'Everything is going to be okay, princess.'
'We will go soon, princess.'
'I promise, princess.'
'It will work, princess. '
'There’s one problem though, princess.'
'I can’t stop saying princess, princess.'
'It’s fine, princess.'
'It won’t annoy him, princess.'
'My constant use of princess, princess.'
'It won’t annoy him, princess.'
'I’ve repeated myself, princess.'
'And again, princess.'
'It won’t annoy him, princess.'
'To the point he throws the book at the wall, princess.'
'And gives it one star, princess.' -
What you do is, you take King Arthur, The Canterbury Tales, Asterix and Obelix, Don Quixote, Shrek, Brother Cadfael, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and The Lord of the Rings and stir them all together in Kazuo Ishiguro's brain. Then you sit him down in front of a typewriter, or a notebook, a computer, and if you're lucky something like The Buried Giant will emerge. It read a bit like a bedtime story (in the magical, evocative, maybe even the story-teller doesn't know what's going to happen next sense)--and whether this is a good or bad thing I still don't think I am able to decide. Now someone hurry up and turn this into a Studio Ghibli film.
-
For the first hundred pages or so I thought I was going to love this book. The idea of the old couple setting off on what amounted to a pilgrimage, the mist and the way people were losing memories and the beautifully executed writing style all added up to a possible five star read.
Then just around the half way point I suddenly realised I was a little bored and was starting to skim the longer paragraphs. Part of this was that I had developed an attachment to Axl and Beatrice and did not want to listen to the musings of an elderly knight. Towards the end, when the old couple's story took the major focus again, I regained my interest and was involved enough to appreciate the way events transpired.
So sadly it ends up just a three star book for me, one of those stars being entirely for the beautiful way this author uses words. -
I need to think about this book. Changed my mind from 3 stars to 3.5 rounded off to 4. Mainly because Ishiguro's style of writing is beautiful to me. And the story telling too, although this story had its highs and lows. Not his best, but still... Ishiguro style. So, I thought about it, and this book did make an impression on me. Therefore, changed my view....
And this link: Neil Gaiman reviewing the book, I like his observations.
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/01/boo... -
As someone who has read all of Ishiguro's previous works I was of course more than excited to finally get my hands on a copy of The Buried Giant. Oh boy, if only that excitement hadn't been sourly crushed by the actual contents of this novel.
The Buried Giant is very different from all of Ishiguro's other novels. In fact it's so different that I can't even compare it to any of his previous novels. The main difference is of course that this is essentially a fantasy novel. Now I'll be the first to put my hands up and admit that I'm not a massive fan of the fantasy genre. I enjoy the occasional Terry Pratchett novel and I've dipped in and out of the Narnia universe but that's where my fantasy education ends. If there was any author who could get me excited about a fantasy novel, it was Kazuo Ishiguro. This novel is set in the 6th Century, contains references to ogres on the very first page and there's a Beowulfian quest involving a dragon. I'm very much out of my literary comfort zone.
The novel begins with two characters, an elderly couple, Axl and Beatrice. At first I really enjoyed these two. In fact I really enjoyed this novel. For, like, the first fifty pages. I really wished Ishiguro just stayed with these two. I enjoyed their company as they set off on a quest to find their son in another village. However, it's when a certain character from Arthurian legend turns up that this novel fell apart in my hands like wet cake. For the remaining 300ish pages this novel stops being Tolkien and turns into Monty Python and the Holy Grail. In fact, when this figure from folklore appears, this novel stops reading like literary fiction and starts reading like, well, fanfiction. At least that's how I felt. And I'm pretty sure Ishiguro didn't intend spending ten years writing Merlin fanfiction but here we are.
Nobody was expecting this to be The Remains of the Day (ah, The Remains of the Day, where has the author who wrote you gone?) but since this is Ishiguro's first novel in ten years (with the exception of his rather enjoyable short story collection
Nocturnes: Five Stories of Music and Nightfall from 2009) we deserve more from this. I want to burst into Ishiguro's study and shout, "You wrote The Unconsoled and now you think you can pass off this sub-par fantasy novel as part of your oeuvre?!". Listen Ishiguro, if you're reading this, I'm not as angry as I am after reading
Never Let Me Go (that terrible, terrible novel that I'm still trying to forget) but ugh, you had ten years. Joyce wrote
Ulysses in seven. Look Kaz, I just don't know anymore. Three stinkers in a row? (Don't think I've forgotten about
When We Were Orphans) I just don't know what to do with you anymore. I'm not angry Kaz, I'm just very disappointed. -
Kazuo Ishiguro is a master stylist, with books that range from futuristic, sci-fi, surrealistic and post-colonial. So it is no surprise that his new novel is unlike anything he has written before. Like its predecessors, this novel concentrates on memories: their power to silence, distort, and forever haunt, with characters that are often alienated and searching. Yet the book is distinctly an adventure fable, integrating an ancient British civilization with fantasy.
The two questions are: is it good? And is it satisfying? The answer to the first question is absolutely yes. All the trademarks of Ishiguro – his masterful prose, his characters’ search for meaning and his feats of imagination are all well on display. The answer to the second question is far more subjective and will very much depend on what each individual reader enjoys.
The novel takes us into post-Arthurian Britain, populated with those mythic heroes, including a still-living Sir Gawain, yet there’s a twist here: A mist has fallen on Britain, forcing the isle into a collective loss of memory. (“IT’s queer the way the world’s forgetting people and things form only yesterday and the day before that. Like a sickness come over us all.”) Axl and Beatrice (and are we sure these are even their names?) are an elderly couple who visit their adult son, of whom they have only the scantest of remembrances. During their journey, they encounter an honorable knight, a warrior on a quixotic quest, a young boy, a sinister hidden dragon, an evil monk and more, each holding a key to their quest.
At its core, The Buried Giant is a fantastical fable, an old-fashioned adventure story with thrills a-plenty. But scratch the surface and you get more. There are allusions to so many other classics: obviously, King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable, but also Orpheus and Dante’s Inferno (particularly in the character of Beatrice, the cherished soulmate), and certain childhood fables.
We also get an in-depth look at universal themes: memory and forgetfulness, love and aging, war and peace (and how peace can hold “for ever built on slaughter and a magician’s trickery” and what it takes to be a good and a loving person. From Axl to Beatrice: “For what good’s a memory’s returning from the mist if it’s only to push away another? Will you promise me, princess? Promise to keep what you feel for me this moment always in your heart, no matter what you see once the mist’s gone.”
The narrative builds as it goes along and the central question – at what price do we remember, at what price do we forget – is captivating and its broader meaning – the collective memory loss of a nation is timely. The message is delivered within the fantasy adventure framework, which will appeal to some, but not all readers. I cannot say I loved it (as I loved Remains of the Day, Never Let Me Go, The Unconsoled and other Ishiguro works) but I admired this achievement. And I must admit to a little misting in my own eyes as the fable finally surrenders its secrets. -
Pustio sam malo da se slegnu utisci, da razmislim o Išiguru, Pokopanom divu (ili kako god da ga budu preveli naši izdavači ako ga uopšte i budu preveli jer je retko ko u RS zainteresovan za objavljivanje njegovih romana a čovek je genije), likovima, rečenicama koje su mi ušle u genetski kod, temama, poruci,... i dolazim do neizbežnog zaključka da sam pročitao jedno izuzetno delo - toliko kompleksno, slojevito, isprepletano i ujedno toliko osećajno, setno, melanholično.
Ako očekujete da pročitate nove "Ostatke dana", u tom slučaju bolje ponovo čitajte "Ostatke"... Ako očekujete novu verziju "Ne daj mi nikada da odem" u tom slučaju utvrdite taj roman... Ako želite nešto drugačije, a opet da ima nekih dodirnih tačaka sa ova dva romana, onda zaplovite drevnom Engleskom u kojoj pored običnih smrtnika obitavaju jedna "opaka" zmajica, mnogo vila i mnogo džinova ljudoždera (ogres).
"The Buried giant" (nadalje TBG) je dakle, novo čedo Kazua Išigura koje sam naručio i pre nego što je odštampan. Priznajem - subjektivan sam :D Iako sam pre ovog pročitao samo dva gorepomenuta romana (i to po više puta) mogu da primetim kako Išiguro pokušava da se ne ponavlja i da mu to apsolutno uspeva. "Ostaci dana" se mogu posmatrati iz postkolonijalnog ugla, "Ne daj mi nikada da odem" kao naučna fantastika, a TBG kao pokušaj plivanja u vodama epske fantastike. Međutim, nije kod Išigura sve tako crno-belo...
Svi već pomenuti romani se ne mogu jasno klasifikovati i staviti u neku pregradu... Išiguro je majstor pripovedanja i pisanja i on od svojih romana pravi umetničku kombinaciju više stilova - kao da time isprobava granice savremene književnosti.
Šta nam to sve pruža TBG? Da, u romanu postoje elemenati epske fantastike, ali ujedno roman može da se gleda i kao legenda (o kralju Arturu) ili mit.
Ali neka vas ne zavaraju ovi elementi. TBG nije epska fantastika kakvu bi napisali Tolkin, Martin ili već neko sličan. Ovde nema puno scena borbi, vilinskog jezika, živopisnih predela,... Ovde su najbitniji likovi, a Išiguro ume tako majstorski da ih osenči...
Dakle, davno davno davno, nekoliko godina nakon smrti voljenog kralja Artura nad Engleskom se nadvila magla... Ali magla je čudna - sve navodi na to da ona krade stanovnicima sećanja... Usred ovakvog settinga svoje male živote živi ostareli bračni par - Axl i Beatrice koji usred svojih životnih tegoba i nemogućnosti da se sete svega što ih je snašlo u životu (bilo to lepo ili ružno) odlučuju da krenu na put - da bi se susreli sa sinom koji živi u nekom od obližnjih sela... A takav nesiguran put nikako nije pravolinijski. Naći će se u neprijateljski nastrojenom selu, u manastiru koji je služio kao tvrđava, na stenovitom putu koje ne nudi odmorišta za ovakve putnike namernike. A kakav bi to put bio bez saputnika? Srešće oni dobronamerne ali i zlonamerne ljude, one koji kriju svoje identitete, one koji lažu, one koji će im staviti još teži teret i na njihova ostarela leđa i na njihova naprsla srca... Srešće i ljude od istine i ljude od reči, one od kojih će tražiti (i dobiti pomoć) ali i one koji će od njih tako nejakih zatražiti pomoć. Njihov put ka sinu će biti put otkrovenja pri čemu će oni (kako magla bude ređa) ponovo otkrivati istine o sebi ali i o drugima, da bi posle raznih nedaća i malo drugačijeg susreta sa zmajem bili stavljeni na ultimativni ispit života i srca...
TBG nije brz roman i ne može i ne sme da se čita ovlaš i površno. Radnja ne ide brzo - Išiguro kao da je podredio radnju svojim glavnim likovima - napredujemo njihovim koracima, pri čemu smo i mi, čitaoci, često i sami obavijeni maglom, ali kada se magla rasprši dobijamo odgovore na sve ono što nas je mučilo: kakvu to prošlost dele Axl i Beatrice i šta se to krije u njihovoj magli, ko su zapravo ratnik i vitez i koje su njihove životne misije, ko proizvodi maglu i zašto magla ima takvo dejstvo na ljude, i koja je poenta samog naslova knjige... A onda se sve zaokruži pravim Išigurovskim završetkom... I onda ja ovde na goodreads-u ostavim simbol ":(" jer sam tužan zato što je roman došao do kraja i zato što... (neću da ostavljam spojlere)
U romanu sve ima svoju poentu i težinu. A ni u jednom momentu nisam rekao da je roman lak... Težak je, na momente brutalno surov i neočekujuć, i kako svojim enigmama udara u mozak još brutalnije udara u srce...
Išiguro je defintivno majstor svog zanata i on UME da piše. Ono što me još oduševljava je njegova naklonost alegoriji koju majstorski ugrađuje u svoja dela. A ovo delo jeste alegorijsko, i u tome je možda i njegova dodatna lepota...
Išiguro nam piše o pamćenju i sećanju - da li je bolje neke stvari zaboraviti i preći preko njih zarad opšteg mira ili nekog drugog opšteg dobra, o ratu i miru - da li su izdaje u ratu gore od onih koje napravimo u ime mira, ali pre svega o ljubavi - o njenoj krhkosti, podložnosti sećanju, opraštanju, poštovanju,... Još jednom nas Išiguro pita - može li naizgled prava ljubav, koja je prošla kroz različite uspone i padove i različite testove postojanosti doći do konačnog cilja nepromenjena i iste jačine...
Kada sam zaklopio ovu neverovatnu knjigu bio sam siguran u jedno - da ću se vratiti ovoj knjizi! Ona se definitivno ne otkriva u potpunosti na prvo čitanje, baš kao i svi ostali Išigurovi romani. Čista petica!!! -
In “The Buried Giant” nothing is what it seems.
A fable that overbrims with symbolism and allegory.
A river to cross that might signify the last journey for an elderly couple on the land of the living. A tale set in post-Arthurian England with knights, dragons, ogres, sword duels and magic spells to convey aspects of human nature that elude all kind of logic, such as love, forgiveness, war and revenge.
Blending mythological legend and medieval epic, Ishiguro builds a world were people suffer from general amnesia. That is the price to pay for peace and conviviality between Saxons and Britons. I wonder if many of us do use the same notion to forgive and forget what life and others have inflicted on us.
For Axel and Beatrice, the old married couple and protagonists of this novel, forgetfulness is no longer a solution because they ache to remember what happened to their son, the cost of peace has become too high. So they set off on a trip in search of the cause that mists their minds, hoping they’ll recover their stolen memories and the location of their son along with them.
This could have been a great adventure story, the kind of rich parable that offers several layers of receding depth to peel off as the novel unfolds its mysteries. But in my opinion, Mr. Ishiguro failed to create a believable setting and he focused rather on making explicit the hidden metaphors, neglecting the form of the narration. And so the characters lacked essence, the dialogues were forced and full of annoying tics and the revelation was discovered too abruptly to be plausible.
Mr. Ishiguro is known for his ability to elude genre classification, but it’s precisely the vague quality of this novel that dashed its potentiality. Nevertheless, a few images will remain with me, such as an old couple crossing a river trusting that their true love will beat any wrongdoings they inflicted on each other. Fantasy or no fantasy, this is an undeniable ode to love, trust and memory, and so all in all, a worthwhile reading. -
Does 'The Buried Giant' Bury Our Own Literary One?
This being Ishiguro's last novel before receiving the Nobel Award (one assumes for 'Remains' & 'Never')--the answer is a loud resounding NO!!
But--
It vascillates between charming & unnerving, two polar opposite Ishiguro juggles well. It's an existential apocalyptic fairytale; a Shrek-world suddenly gone earl-grey and maudlin. Colourless...
It is One Wondrous Misfire. Not one to announce AT ALL what the master is actually capable of doing. Some genres just can't be taken seriously... He even switches narrative styles (in a commonly rigid uninnovative genre of fantasy fiction) pretty abruptly, suggesting the writer, too, is as annoyed by this as we. This... Tolkien-lite, impossible-to-love atrocity. -
گر چه بعضی جاها، حِس می کردم داستان دا��ه یِه تِمِ رازآلود می گیره و پرشِ های متوالی به پیش و پس، چه زمانی وَچِه محتوایی رو تجربه می کنه، اما کُلاََ از اون رُمانا بود که، تو چن روزِ مطالعه، حواسَم از خطِ داستان پَرت نمی شد، حتی وقتایی که کتاب بِدست نبودم
یه مکتوبِ دوست داشتنی با روایتی تئاتری و نمادگرا از فراموش کردنِ این اصلِ حیاتیِ نباید فراموش کنیم که یه روزی "فراموش می کنیم" و فراموش می شویم
:در گیراییِ دلنشینِ این رمان، همین بَس که
اگر نویسنده ای باشد و کتابی، که مطالعه کتابِ مذکورِ آن نویسنده، باعث شود، بقیه آثارِ آن نویسنده را فِلفور و "بی اما و اگر" بِخَری تا بخوانی، آن نویسنده "ایشی گورو" ست و آن کتاب هم، یک انتخابِ بسیار سخت، میانِ "بازمانده روز" از یک سو وَ "غول مدفون" از دیگر سو
این را داشته باشید تا "تسلی ناپذیر" و "هرگز رهایم مکن" را هم بخوانم، تا باز از ایشی گورو و قلمِ دلفریبش حرف بزنیم -
أجواء أسطورية وسرد شيق للكاتب كازو ايشيجورو
تدور أحداثها في الماضي البعيد في بريطانيا بعد عهد الملك آرثر
بعد فترة موحشة من الحروب يعيش الناس في حالة غريبة ودائمة من النسيان
بطلي الرواية زوجين عجوزين في غاية اللطف وبينهم الكثير من المحبة والتفاهم
يقوموا برحلة طويلة في محاولة لاستعادة ذكرياتهم المفقودة
رحلة مليئة بشخصيات مختلفة وكائنات غريبة وأحداث خطيرة
وفي نهاية المشوار تعود ذكريات الماضي بوضوح ويتبدد النسيان والأوهام
يمزج ايشيجورو بين الواقع والفانتازيا ويكتب عن ذاكرة البشر والأوطان
ويثير التساؤلات عن أثر الذكريات على فكر الانسان ومسار حياته
هل فعلا يستطيع البشر العيش بسلام مع ذاكرة مزدحمة بالتفاصيل المؤلمة
وخاصًة بعد فظائع الحروب وبعيدا عن مفردات التجاوز والصفح والغفران
عندما ينهض العملاق المدفون..عملاق المظالم القديمة والرغبة في الانتقام بين أهل الوطن الواحد.. يبدأ هذا الوطن بالتداعي والانهيار
خيال ممتع وفكرة مبتكرة وسرد بارع يحكي الواقع بين الخاص والعام
والترجمة جميلة للمترجمة خلود عمرو -
![[ J o ]](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/users/1673171874i/4639825._UY200_CR4,0,200,200_.jpg)
This was my 900th book that I've read. Let me be clear on that, when I say my 900th book. I have not read nine hundred books from page one to the end. Or actually, I might have done. There may be books from my childhood and my pre-GoodReads-and-blog days where I read a book-either 3 pages or 500 pages long-that I've read all the way through that I've since forgotten about. As it stands, these are books that I've picked up, either physically or electronically and thought, "yes, I want to read you". Some of them have disappointed; some I haven't managed to get beyond the first few chapters, but for me I have read them. Please feel free to have your own opinions, but I neither feel like I've cheated myself nor you. It is simply a number.
But yes, my 900th book and I was very excited.
There are two things I wish to point out, firstly, I am an over-bearing high-fantasy, none of your twee-YA-mild-fantasy-rubbish, fan: a true high-fantasy, heavy-on-the-world-building-high-fantasy fan, and secondly, I have never read a book by Kazuo Ishiguro nor seen any adaptations of his works.
It sounded intriguing. His imagination is vast, much like Neil Gaiman's, and the initial storyline was very intriguing. At the beginning I was thinking maybe two stars, half-way through when Sir Gawain turned up it shifted up to a three-star rating but then it slowly sank in to the ground and pretty much died the death of a thousand dead men, who you think are dead but do that last-gasp thing and then really do die.
I don't want to go in to a whole load of detail, so I will throw out the main areas that bugged me. Firstly, it felt like a contemporary novel with a fantasy-genre guise, written only to win Big Shiny Awards, because genre fiction, like fantasy, doesn't win Big Shiny Awards That Anyone Cares About. I'm looking at the Man Booker Prize, mostly. Secondly, the characters were 2D and fairly annoying, with exasperating dialogue. I appreciate their memory loss made them rather stale, but otherwise they were uninteresting and I had no sympathy for them, nor did I feel any empathy toward their plight.
Thirdly, fantasy is basically The World with everything else coming in second. Fantasy is built on world-building: that's mainly the whole point of it. You don't need a whole planet, and you certainly don't need any thing made-up: Earth serves its purpose well for a fantasy novel. This book had none: "ooh, there's a forest over there" was pretty much it. At the beginning of the book we get a nice description of what England looked like back then, but that's about it. You need to remember this throughout the entire book. It's either desolate, wind-swept planes or trees.
Fourthly, and this is a very personal opinion, but I disliked the way Sir Gawain was portrayed. Yes, he's my favourite Arthurian Knight, no, I don't know the Arthurian legends enough to really know if he was correctly portrayed, but I've read Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and some of Lord Tennyson's work, and Sir Gawain is not an impetuous whinger, I do know that.
A few other things I'll leave out because of spoilers, but the ideas some of the characters had were inane and self-serving, especially toward the end. In fact, the entire ending, aside from the exact end, was just a heap of disappointment. And my Lord, if Axl called Beatrice "Princess" one more time than he did I'm pretty sure I would have stopped reading. The whole thing smacked of "hey I know a secret but I'm not going to tell you 'til the end" and we didn't actually find much out at the end.
What did I like? Sir Gawain, of course, and the weird way we sort of dropped in to an Arthurian Legend as if it were a true part of History. That was imaginative and fun, but not done well. The name of the book itself was grand, though very ill-chosen (again, with the "here's a secret I may or may not tell you about later"), and the fact it had dragons and a type of magic. Yeah, the cover.
I don't really know. An experiment gone wrong, perhaps? This certainly hasn't stopped me from trying his other works out. I've read a few other reviews from people who have read his other works and they all seem to say the same thing: this is very different and not anywhere near as good. That makes me feel a bit better about not liking it, to be honest. I don't know why I feel bad for that: perhaps one star is too harsh, but the way it made me feel-almost angry toward the end-makes me think I can't give it any more.
At least I read my 900th book all the way through. Every single word.
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Etsy -
Sklopila korice, privila na grudi i tiho zajecala. Ostala tako dugo.
Vraticu joj se jednom ponovo. Do tada, o m i lj e n a! -
‘The Buried Giant’ is the first of Ishiguro's novels that I have read – and being well aware of his previous accomplishments, critical acclaim, Nobel and Booker prize winning standing – it was with much anticipation, high expectation, although inevitably some apprehension that I embarked on this book – would Ishiguro and this novel in particular live up to his high standing and reputation? I was far from disappointed…
‘The Buried Giant’ is a hauntingly evocative, compelling and intelligent story set in a post-Roman, post-Arthurian Britain. Ostensibly this is a story with a ‘Fantasy’ setting – and on one level very much of that genre and whilst there are nods to and echoes of Tolkien et al, the ‘Fantasy’ setting is just that, a ‘setting’ only, providing a backdrop to the big themes that Ishiguro is exploring here.
In one sense, ‘The Buried Giant’ is akin to an Arthurian (style) legend, a journey, a quest and all that goes with that – it does feel in some sense like a fable, a parable, a legend, mythological and elemental; referencing not only Cervantes’ ‘Don Quixote’, but the likes of Eco’s ‘Name of The Rose’.
On another level however, Ishiguro’s novel is all about memory, loss and remembrance – it’s about the suppression of past deeds, wrongs done, the denial of past ‘evils’; it’s about the legitimisation of war and slaughter on the basis of future peace, the questioning of ‘ends justifying the means’. Confronting, rationalising and coming to terms with a sometimes ugly and difficult past.
The narrative of ‘The Buried Giant’ is delivered by Ishiguro ostensibly on two key levels – there is the very personal story of Axl and Beatrice and their journey to find their son; the journey that they must go on and their remembrance of things past – past wrongs being remembered, righted or at least confronted; the healing of old wounds, the journey of life along with a ultimately a contemplation of death and isolation. On another level, ‘The Buried Giant’ is all about the ‘wrongs’ done at societal level, mass slaughter and genocide – the subsequent acceptance and justification of same and ultimately the rewriting of both memory and history in order to deliver an acceptable and palatable story, A process of forgetting, remembrance and rationalisation or suppression of the past. Therefore, ‘The Buried Giant’ is all about not just individual, but more importantly collective amnesia.
‘The Buried Giant’ is a great book, so very well delivered – haunting, memorable, effective, affecting, compelling, amusing, exciting; ambitious in scope – simple yet complex, thought-provoking, evocative and intelligent – a great adventure and a great story, what more could you want? Highly recommended. -
Spoiler-free video review:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DoTOX...
Written review (also spoiler-free):
Ishiguro’s new novel was my most anticipated release of this year, so I was unbelievably excited when a review copy came in from the Allen & Unwin representative. Thank goodness this lived up to (and even exceeded) my expectations. Set in 6th Century Britain, it follows an elderly couple who set out from their village to find their son. I knew nothing about this going into it, so it took me a little while to place it in the fantasy genre. However, this is fantasy in the same way that Never Let Me Go is science-fiction, so the emphasis is on the characters’ relationships and their inner lives. The fantasy elements are there to create a framework for the themes of memory and love that motivate the characters. There is a mist covering the land that causes people to forget elements of their past, so everyone is an unreliable narrator. A few typical Ishiguro traits can be found, such as the emphasis on memory and sparse but evocative description, but it is unlike anything he has written in the past. This is the kind of book that Tolkien might have written had he decided to focus on rich characterisation and relationships rather than the landscape. There are some treats for fans of British legend too, as this is set not long after the death of King Arthur. -
There are certain writers - David Mitchell, Kate Atkinson, Hilary Mantel, Chiang Rae Lee - where I think, "OK, I'll follow you anywhere, no matter how weird or improbable that place you want to take me is." A Dutch enclave in 18th century Japan? A futuristic Baltimore devoted to pisciculture? 1800 pages telling Tudor history from the vantage point of one of its better known villains? Groundhog Day set in WW2? Yes, and yes, and yes, and yes, and there you have half of my favorite books from the last decade.
Ishiguro definitely holds his place in that pantheon of trust. Organ harvesting and a dystopian British boarding school? Yes! Mosleyites in an uglier (and realer) version of Downton Abbey? Yes! And so, based on that trust, I tried and tried again to give myself over to this pastiche of Arthurian legend, which has been billed as a "fantasy novel," but is told more in the limpid aphoristic tones of fable.
But I failed. The writing, lyrical in places and clumping in others, tripped me up. The plot (such as it was) dragged, with the foreboding atmosphere a bit of an overmatch for the reveal at the end.
The Buried Giant worked for me as concept, as meditation on memory and genocide, on love and loss. But it didn't work for me as a novel, and if Ishiguro's project was to deracinate his story so that we focused more on the concepts and less on the trappings of setting and narrative, then I think his project failed because the weird setting and characters distracted me, like a tooth that you can't stop worrying at.
Even the greats stumble sometimes. Better to experiment and fail than get stuck in mediocrity. -
اولین رمانی بود که از ایشیگورو خواندم. جذاب، پرکشش و دوست داشتنی بود.
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سالیان دراز به من آموخت که همواره با هر گونه هماوردجویی، شادمانه به میدان بروم، حتی آن هنگام که وحشت تا مغز استخوانم رخنه کند، چرا که ما اگر چه همه فانی و زوالپذیریم، پس بگذارید دستکم در مدتی که بر زمین گام مینهیم، در برابر چشمان خداوند̊ ، زیبا بتابیم! ص 175 کتاب -
The Raindrops of Our Memories
“But then again I wonder if what we feel in our hearts today isn't like these raindrops still falling on us from the soaked leaves above, even though the sky itself long stopped raining. I'm wondering if without our memories, there's nothing for it but for our love to fade and die.” K. Ishiguro, The Buried Giant
There are times, I think, one must admit bewilderment and a certain lack of knowledge or learning to fully understand some novels, but can nonetheless say that the story impacted him; that, in a relatively short read, he inhabited the phenomenal, yet surreal, atmosphere of dense fog that enveloped the terrain and the faded memories of the protagonist medieval married couple (and of all the population in the mystical land); that he felt for the couple and their lost memories and, most importantly, that he has a deeper understanding, from having read this book, of how much memories are a significant part of who we are and of our love for those in our lives, and yet at the same time our love is more than memories: true love is in our souls and as long as we can see and know those we love, our love will not die, in spite of our vanishing remembrances.
I know this sounds mawkish. Yet, because I cannot articulate to you exactly why I found the story so profound, I am left to conveying my impressions, however sentimental they may seem.
