Klara and the Sun Proves Itself to Be More Than Another Never Let Me Go
25 Apr 2021
When I read the introduction of Klara and the Sun for the first time, I couldn’t help but think of Never Let Me Go, owing to the similarities in setting, narrative, and themes. After all, as the first novel Kazuo Ishiguro published after receiving the Nobel Prize in Literature, Klara and the Sun could easily end up as either a cliche or a creative disaster in his senior readers’ view. (I wonder how many people, especially in Taiwan, read his books only after he was awarded.) Nevertheless, he developed a new patten on the path that he had traversed many years ago. The delicate balance between old and new elements proves that Ishiguro truly deserves the title of Nobel Prize laureate, as the official citation states:
The Nobel Prize in Literature 2017 was awarded to Kazuo Ishiguro “who, in novels of great emotional force, has uncovered the abyss beneath our illusory sense of connection with the world.”
Klara and the Sun shares a lot in common with Never Let Me Go. Both of them feature dystopian settings, and both stories are narrated by “non-human,” in a narrow sense. The climaxes are mostly triggered by human egoism: Klara is asked to continue Josie by playing her role, while Cathy suffers donation to extend lives of patients. These inhumane behaviours deviate from the general expectations of humanity, guiding readers to question: What is human?
Various motives unfold under this big question. In Never Let Me Go, Cathy and other clones are taught to create art works, so that people could testify whether they have souls. As the narration reveals that clones rarely differ from human beings, their destined sacrifice turns out as a tragedy of minorities. Their lives are, regretfully, written by those who ignore their nature and yet in charge of their future.
Klara and the Sun covers similar themes from the view of artificial friend (AF), a kind of artificial intelligence. When Klara visits Capaldi in the city, Chrissie finally discloses her real purpose of choosing Klara: She demands her to become Josie if she dies because of disease. Even though extending Josie’s existence doesn’t harm Klara physically, we see the same pursuit as in Never Let Me Go: Characters motivated by the the possibility of losing their beloved could turn their love into excuses for rationalising their violation against others’ selfhood, on which they show no empathy.
This climax elevates the novel to another level of philosophical debate. According to Capaldi, the nature of an individual could be studied by an AF because research proves that there’s nothing unreachable inside human. “The second Josie won’t be a copy. She’ll be the exact same and you’ll have every right to love her just as you love Josie now,” Capaldi tells Chrissie. In light of his assertion, artificial intelligence seemingly enables human to last forever. Does this also imply, as elaborated in the movie Matrix, our minds are nothing more than an array of concrete facts that can be analysed and calculated?
The novel answers negatively to the prompt. Through Klara’s words, the author argues that one’s selfhood exists within the subtle connection with others. In other words, even if Josie appears learnable, Klara would hardly establish the same connection with Chrissie, Rick, and the others in Josie’s life as Josie herself does. Such approach to the theme of human nature differs from the one in Never Let Me Go, which probes more into the perceptive depth of one’s mind. I would say, in a real case, both inner sensibility and external relationships contribute to the completion of a human, or to be more general, the completion of a life; that is, two novels jointly shape the meaning of our existence.
Ishiguro has more than once mentioned his interest in memory. The element, though not directly mentioned, responds to the motive as well. Shakespeare wrote, “purpose is but the slave to memory.” Without experiencing Josie’s previous life, Klara may never be able to substitute Josie as her own memories remain in the cognition.
I’d like to point out a scene that I consider the most touching throughout the book. In an afternoon when Josie is close to death, Klara draws the curtains apart to let the sun break in. As the rays fill the room, Josie awakes to discover the presence of her beloved. The moment freezes out of warmth. From then on, Josie recovers soon: The key to saving life doesn’t lie in preventing the loss, but in to care, and to love.
Klara and the Sun is among the best publications of recent years. The reading experience reminds me of the unforgettable moment when I finished The Remains of the Day. It appears common for authors to receive stricter comments after being awarded, and Ishiguro proves himself capable of standing the tests of honour and fame. As a reader, I would say we’re lucky to have Ishiguro in our age. I would be looking forward to another masterpiece of his, as the published ones accompany us, and as their profoundness lingers.