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Post by anaritter on Jun 3, 2014 1:51:24 GMT
I agree completely with Mr. Parris' assessment, and I think this might be solely because of the way that Kathy tells her story - which is a big, complex, very disturbing story. Rather than focus on all that disturbing content, and taking on a universal viewpoint in order to tell the reader all about the government or the whole history of the social issues at hand, Kathy does what a human would do in a situation of intense pressure, tension, and perhaps even grief.
Kathy, for the most part, sticks to the small, personal details. Details about the art created at Hailsham, or games they used to play, or weather on a particular memorable day. Though she touches on the big problems that are looming over her, she describes even them through small moments that seem to have little significance - her memories of Madame's visits to Hailsham, or of certain things Miss Lucy said to her or Tommy. And this truly is a human way to go about a big problem. When everything is going wrong around you, you tend to not grieve the big things. You grieve and focus on the small things. Women with cancer undergoing chemotherapy often say that the hardest, most heartbreaking part of the ordeal for them is losing their hair. It's the small things that have the most significance in our lives, and are front and foremost, and I think that's what makes this book so human, and therefore scary to the reader.
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Post by sheridanf on Jun 3, 2014 2:45:15 GMT
While I agree that the novel has the capacity to personalize these kinds of topics so we can't separate ourselves as readers, this can only happen in the correct way. The first time I read the novel freshman year, I knew nothing about it, so becoming attached to these characters without anything distancing myself (except for some vague idea that something's different in this universe) was easy. The second time, I had forgotten a lot of the plot, but now the lofty title of "DYSTOPIAN" was plastered on the cover and I couldn't free my second-time-interpretation from all of the expectations that come from a dystopian novel. I had forgotten why it was dystopian, but knew it was, so while I read, I could easily distance myself. This universe was no longer anything like my own. I think it's best to read this novel how I did the first time- to start by, as best as we can, freeing ourselves from the preconceived notions of a dystopian novel. Then the personal, striking components of the novel- Kathy's simple yet close-to-home dialogue, universal childhood moments, etc.- can work their magic properly.
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Post by garygates on Jun 3, 2014 2:59:07 GMT
I think that there are two different sides to this question/conclusion:
First, I think that the scariest thing about the narrative of the story is that we sometimes feel helpless in our life. We most likely do not feel like clones, though I can admit I have pondered whether I and/or all the other human beings around me am/are (a) robot(s) - different but similarly strange and demeaning-, but that we as humans often question whether we have a true purpose in life. Life can often be cut short and interrupted and I think that it is a perfectly comprehendible and natural fear to wonder if we will ever live our lives to the fullest, accomplish the dreams and find the love that we so desperately want. Or maybe we are just like the clones and it is our fate for our life to be truncated.
Second, I think that there s another part of the story that is so foreign that, although we want make comparisons and create tangents between it and our life, our lack and understanding of this fictional culture causes us to create and keep distance from the story. This may be detrimental to the associations that the author wants us to create, but the dichotomy between parallels and distancing are a necessary component of Dystopian art. We want to simultaneously close of and maintain our level of separation with these fictional worlds, which in e end just creates a really awesome high level of confusion.
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Post by shannonfender on Jun 3, 2014 3:26:52 GMT
We've talked about this a lot in class, but I think there is a lot of validity in the assertion that teenagers gravitate towards novels that have shock value. If you take into consideration most YA literature, the biggest best-sellers tend to follow a dystopian theme with a hero/heroine who "sticks it to the man", so to speak. This puzzles me on a number of levels, because I for the life of me cannot figure out why we relate so strongly to something so unfamiliar. I actually think about this a lot to be honest. Most of the novels I have fallen in love with are so out of line with anything I have ever experienced as far as context goes, but the author grounds the plot within a universal theme I can relate to.
Through similar crazy context, Siddhartha, Metamorphasis, A Wild Sheep Chase, Grendel, Heart of Darkness, etc have all gone to extremes in order to really drive home with its central message. These books are so out there, and it allows us to really wrap our minds around what the author was trying' to do. So with Never Let Me Go, the balance between that extreme (clones and mass organ donations) and the real-ness (Kathy being a homie/ the parallels between our societies) adds a level of subtly we are not familiar with. Hailsham, in many respects, is extremely similar to LO. Thus, we are given a society that is not too far removed from our own. This in turn facilitates the whole discussion of "universal philosophical questions" and "a reflection of the life, values, and ideas of culture" Mr. Parris was talking about in respect to our own society. This isn't Katniss Everdeen fighting for her life in an arena, nor is it an aloof man searching for a sheep. Never Let Me Go is a valuable addition to our curriculum because it asks us to draw conclusions about something we are familiar with. We can analyze it like any other book from our curriculum with a level of detachment and separation, but once everything is said and done, the stark parallels between our two worlds are painfully evident.
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Post by amysohlberg on Jun 3, 2014 17:35:20 GMT
"Never Let Me Go" hit very close to home. I think I'm not able to connect with other dystopian novels quite as well because the ones I've read all contain a certain level of rebelliousness or anger at the way the world is, because the characters have some idea of how "it's supposed to be." I think that's why Never Let Me Go freaks me out so much, and why it seems so much more real. Besides Tommy's brief outburst at the end of the novel, the characters in the story have little to no anger at their lot in life. They have been given a version of reality that is far removed from what it "should be," yet it's all they've ever known, so they accept it with a chilling complacency. The world that Ishiguro creates sends chills down my spine and leaves me wondering how easily our minds can be molded to the reality that somebody else creates. This book resounds because it isn't too far a leap to wonder at the false realities that we've just learned to swallow in our daily lives. Combined with characters who look and sound a whole lot like me, it's very easy to write myself into their story and wonder what I would do in their place.
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Post by jessicapollard on Jun 3, 2014 18:55:50 GMT
The first day in class, when I prematurely dubbed Never Let Me Go a dystopia, this is exactly what I was going to touch on. As a reader, I find myself valuing characters, descriptions and relationships over plots as a whole. This attraction to more personal writing has often deterred me from wanting to read great dystopian and reality-bending works of literature. The emotionality in Never Let Me Go definitely does bridge that gap between the alternate reality presented and society today, and it does so in a really compelling way. While Never Let Me Go is considerably more intimate than other book's of its genre, the author still makes it clear that Kathy is emotionally withholding from us. Her perspective is less of a diary and more of a field guide, and I think that really emphasizes the conclusions the reader draws about the emotional rifts between the donors and the 'regular' people. It creates this 'us' and 'them' dynamic that really illustrates the flaws of a system like that of Never Let Me Go.
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joelk
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Post by joelk on Jun 3, 2014 23:53:21 GMT
I think it's an A- assessment. I agree that the way the story is told and the realistic elements of the setting make discussions of philosophy and life much more "real" to any of us. I think, however, that the part about "challenges inherent in teaching dystopian texts…" is unnecessary to advocate for this book. Amy (Chen) touched upon the similarities of the novel to animals raised for their meat, and yet other similarities can be found when looking to people with terminal or genetic disease or disability. It is thus difficult to argue "Look! Look what Ishiguro shows us is so bad about this society! We must never become that!" when certain, inevitable situations that are reminiscent of Ishiguro's world already exist in our own worlds. (In other words, I think much of the book can be enjoyed even if we never got a reveal.)
The questions the book raises for me are all about the relationships between Kathy, Ruth, and Tommy. Only separately do I question the values of the society they exist within, usually during passages involving Marie-Claude and Miss Emily. Both lead me down interesting paths, but I'm not sure one is necessary for the other, and vice versa, at least for me.
To dance with your proposal—not the idea of reading Never Let Me Go, which is, having read it again now, a better book than the freshman looking for a dystopian novel once thought—I agree that the challenge of dystopia is connecting it to real life. I think, however, that the impact of dystopia is related to just "how much" dystopia there is. We were talking about "Harrison Bergeron" in class and on the forum. It's a chilling work. I can't relate to being handicapped in that sense, but it personally made me think at least as much as Never Let Me Go, and, to be honest, perhaps a bit more. I'd say that the impact of a dystopian novel is directly related to the "amount" of dystopia multiplied by your ability to relate to it. If you can't relate at all, it doesn't matter how ominous the world depicted is.
The closer the dystopian society gets to our own, the less it makes me question "Things," and the more it makes me question "things." I'm not sure I can say which is better.
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Post by mattagritelley on Jun 3, 2014 23:54:53 GMT
I entirely agree entirely with your assessment of the Never Let Me Go and its frightening proximity to our own lives. I think the most terrifying aspect of this book is the way Ishiguro structured his "big reveal. As Joel mentioned in class, the first half of the book is almost entirely a reflection upon a typical growing girl's relationships with other people. She grows up and has normal friends, all of whom experience many normal problems, some of which include relationship drama and learning about sex and love. The first half of the book is very relatable to all of our early years, and would have particularly enthralled junior high Matt if he had read it then. However, we soon learn, in a very direct and surprising fashion, that these students are not normal, but are actually clones-- their sole purpose being to donate organs to their "normal" counterparts. This frightening transition has now taken an entirely normal and applicable scenario and flipped it on its head, illuminating an alternate and horrifying reality. This scenario is not so much scary in the sense of its scientific possibility (for it is technologically and biologically possible for us to create this society if we employed enough money and resources), but rather the idea that we could all be living hidden from the reality of our ultimate and fated doom, regardless of what it may be. Furthermore, this sudden revelation causes us to be fearful of the unknown and apprehensive of a similar horrific and immediate event to happen in our own lives.
While I think adding it to the curriculum was a wonderful idea and I enjoyed it immensely, it still managed to make me very sad and scared of what reality really is and its application to our lives, particularly as we step into the real and unsheltered world as high school graduates. That said, I believe this is a very important conversation to have with oneself in order to recognize the true nature of reality.
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Post by adamgrace on Jun 4, 2014 0:59:09 GMT
I'd have to agree that Never Let Me Go isn't, at it's heart, a dystopian novel. It's a novel about friendship, loss, and confronting the inevitable. The dystopia that Kathy lives in is simply a tool to further enhance the reader's experience. Ishiguro purposefully leaves the world mysterious and the details subtle. The novel is about Kathy's recalling of her life, not a formal history of Hailsham. Within our world a novel like this would be equatable to something like Anne Frank's diary. There are bits and pieces of information about the outside world but most of the substance of the novel is about the human experience. Normally a dystopian author would give plain exposition about the world, but Ishiguro does an excellent job of subtly bringing the reader into the world itself and then exploring it with the characters.
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Post by davidqin on Jun 4, 2014 1:41:36 GMT
I definitely agree with most of Mr. Parris's assessment of Never Let Me Go. I think an unfamiliar or even exotic setting to a dystopian novel can potentially hinder our connection with the humanity that is somewhat obstructed by our preoccupation with imagining a very foreign world. Also, I think writing NLMG as a a first-person narrative (almost a one-on-one conversation or interview with Kathy) is a powerful way to draw the reader in closer to the narrative and to take a somewhat greater role in the story's development, rather than having the reader observing the plot from beyond the sidelines.
Yet what Steve said before me truly resonated with me. To me, NLMG is in an awkward "gray area," one whose setting and premise or not normal enough to be just considered plain old fiction, yet not outlandish enough to be considered a true dystopic work. Therefore, I think it neither achieves the spectacular sensory and mental impact that 1984 or Fahrenheit 451 manage to achieve because we don't get nearly enough background to understand the state of Great Britain in the novel, nor is it so surreal and over-the-top like a Murakami work that we love the characters (Sheep Man, the Rat, the psychic girl, Kiki) just because they are so fantastically different from us. I think Ishiguro tries to use Kathy's conversational style and some backstory by Miss Emily and Madame (a total cop-out by Ishiguro in my opinion... deus ex machina, anyone?) to both give us a sense that something is terribly wrong in the world and also a personal look at this world, but I think it's not terribly effective because of the trait that makes this book great in other regards: his subtlety. Maybe I am biased towards works that are over-the-top? Perhaps. However, there's not quite enough imagination to trigger my interest in something that's so weird it could not possibly exist, or sufficient focus on the human drama because there's always that weird creepy feeling of "donations are coming" that distracts me from his still-undoubtedly-solid exploration of the day-to-day interactions of kids who really aren't the same as us.
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rishi
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Post by rishi on Jun 4, 2014 3:39:28 GMT
I completely agree with your argument that NLMG is different from other dystopian novels but achieves a similar, yet more enhanced effect. NLMG resonates with us not only because of Kathy's personal narration style but also because of the shocking similarities between Hailsham and our society. Unlike novels like 1984 and Fahrenheit 451, NLMG presents us with a setting in which we can realistically draw conclusions from; we are given reasonable context, not just some fictional, bleak, oppressive society illustrated through exaggerations of tyranny and dictatorship. Furthermore, because of the stark similarities between Hailsham and the society we live in, the novel impacts us more. Sure, Fahrenheit 451 taught us the importance of independent thought and the harms of censorship, but because the setting in Bradbury's novel is so abstract and unrealistic relative to the society we live in now, Bradbury's theme does not have as much resonance in our own lives as it could. NLMG solves this problem through creating a more realistic setting. This is where I agree with you. NLMG would be a great addition to our curriculum because it is a dystopian novel that we can resonate with. The themes are relevant, and so is the setting.
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Post by emilybrinkmann on Jun 4, 2014 3:46:42 GMT
I have never read much dystopia, I have always judged the book purely on the genre. After reading Never Let me Go I have a different view on dystopian novels. I believe that the books we read in school are suppose to challenge us, and make us as reading stretch our limits, which is exactly what this book did. I was forced/ pushed/ encouraged to read a book I never even would look twice at and for that I am grateful. The one thing that Mr. Parris said in the prompt, "they sometimes miss how close to home the commentary in the novels should hit " really sticks with me. It is impossible for a piece a literature that I feel captures me and what I see in myself. But reading Never Let me Go, I was relating to the characters more than I ever imagined possible in a dystopia novel. Overall I appreciate this book being in the curriculum because it helped me over come the stereotypes that I have with dystopian novels. The events that happened in the novel may seem unrealistic after all, they are clones.... but they represent things in our lives. We just have to look deeper in dystopian novels more than in fiction or biographies.
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Post by racheladele on Jun 4, 2014 3:57:43 GMT
I would like to dance around your proposal. I personally did not find Never Let Me Go to be as engaging as you describe. I thought that the plot was very interesting and different from many popular dystopia novels, and that Ishiguro presented a debatable issue. Additionally, I agree that as the novel went on, I stopped thinking about it as dystopian literature and more as just a story about realistic people. The shallow language, however, rebuilt that gap between reader and novel-universe for me that could have been overcome by the personal tone of the narrative. I don't know if I'm just individually missing something that everyone else is seeing, but I didn't get an emotional reaction from this novel, and I think that's because this year I have been spoiled with language. For me, Never Let Me Go didn't fit in with the rest of the novels and short pieces we read throughout the year. I felt like the final 30 pages at Miss Emily's dragged on and contained unnecessary elements and wrapped everything up. All things considered, this is a good novel and I'm not trying to argue that. In fact, two years ago I may have loved it. Reading it at this stage, though, following novels like Song of Solomon and July's People with such amazing, cliff-hanger endings, I was confused. I truly used to believe that a novel wasn't complete if it ended without all the loose ends in neat, intentional knots. Now I almost feel the opposite way, and I think Never Let Me Go is an attempt to revert me back to that, after a senior year full of moving forward.
In terms of the relevancy of Ishiguro's plot, I enjoy the questions he brings to light and I believe they are good things to consider. Perhaps, though, it would be better suited either at the beginning of the senior English curriculum or for sophomores/juniors. I don't mean to be harshing on Ishiguro-- he has created a fascinating world that I enjoyed becoming familiar with, and a dystopian world that is not as blatantly obvious as others (1984, The Giver)—but I just didn't find this novel as compelling as many others we experienced this year.
As a side note, I think it is very cool and spooky that Ishiguro decided to base the novel in 1990's in real cities in England, even though it was written in 2005. This does bring a certain present, true aspect to Never Let Me Go and almost maybe makes the reader think that they are the one being tricked, that maybe this has all really been happening since the 1990s and we are the ones being deluded into thinking it's fiction, or “dystopia.”
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steph
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Post by steph on Jun 4, 2014 4:10:39 GMT
There is a seemingly inevitable barrier between works that attempt to depict a future and the present reader. In A Visit From the Goon Squad the novel ends its semi-episodic story pattern with an event from the future, and as soon as I realized this I pulled back a little, or at least shifted from my prior stance of being an engaged and deeply connected reader to a critic. This critical perspective was there to protect my science fiction novels, the great dystopian works, and my own reality of what a plausible future is, and it began to analyze the "message" rather than the meaning of the last chapter. Star Trek was initiated with the same goals and the same problem. Gene Rodenberry created a beloved show which gave children aliens and heroes to look up to, science fans to indulge in, and social movements to have a voice. Star Trek is famous for broadcasting the first kiss between black and white actors, the pilot Zulu was even meant to be gay, and it addressed racism, corrupt/questionable politics, and, in Next Generation, even confronted the futuristic questions surrounding artificial intelligence and what it means to be human. The show's social goals did encounter problems, however, in being considered seriously, and a large piece of that can be attributed to its timeline. Many intricate and challenging mediums have attempted to show society the problems that they have, are being created, or can potentially have, but are written off as something created for outliers ("nerds", "hippies", etc), even looking at the environmentalist movement, which draws so much of its meaning from future impacts. Never Let Me Go does manage to allow the reader through the barbed mesh that surrounds all dystopia's, which allows fantastic ability for empathy and more dimensional understanding of the issues it presents, but to do so it makes that barbed mesh less terrifying, and that effects how vigorously the reader reacts against it, walking away from the novel doesn't give one a clear boundary to revolt against or question as other dystopians do so well. It's not a novel brushed aside to the outliers, but made to interact with the common masses, but this makes its meaning non-specialized, blunter and not as able to defend an active movement.
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Post by danyhong55 on Jun 4, 2014 4:18:32 GMT
Oh my God, This book deserves much more attention than it received. We only had such a short time and limited discussion on it that I felt that it was a serious disservice to both Ishiguro and ourselves.
On a side note before a rant, I must say that In conjunction to this novel, everyone should also read HOUSE OF SCORPIONS because so much of the themes that are presented in this novel are also explored in a different mindset and a different point of view. It would totally be interesting to see how everyone would react to the books.
I must say that the first things that came to my mind were the medical ethics that were implicated in this novel. There is so much that we touched and briefly mentioned but could not totally explore and discuss. There just was not enough time. I wanted to just rant on and on about it and just talk and talk and talk. If you hadn't noticed I love medicine and with recent medical advancements, we must soon consider the implications of some of the things that come up in this novel. First of all, is cloning at a humane practice to begin with? With current methods, cloning is imperfect and leads to early health complications that would occur later in life for a "normal" human being. Which is worse, to live under the fear of death, or to not have lived at all? Without the cloning process and the reasons behind it, our main characters simply would not exist and that itself is an ethical question we must ask; are have-nots any less important as maybe-lived? Is organ donation really a cruel thing in a society that celebrate voluntary organ donation. Most importantly, by what framework of ethics can we ponder this ethical issue without contradicting ourselves. Is our view of morality the correct/only way to consider this situation? Is morality fluid in this situation or is there a fundamentally right way?
Not to mention. The modern/foreign composition of a novel allows us to see how culture and language can travel beyond the constructs of what we call writing to express thoughts, emotions and actions. This and A WILD SHEEP CHASE are terrific novels to explore the implications of eastern writing that is still heavily influenced by western culture. This allows for discourse to open up how each society differs and concurs over controversial ethical and language frameworks in the context of human nature. There is much for students to explore regarding the idea of ideas flowing across different peoples trying to make sense of a world through a book, whose world other people need to make sense of to make a sense of the world for themselves. The language is beautiful yet technical and that is something worth discussing beyond the ethical implications that overshadows the fundamental aspects of this novel.
Though this novel is a moral critics heaven, we must make sure that discourse in ethics, as well as other concepts, is fully developed to the point where the people listening and engaging in the conversation are receiving a full and well balanced idea of what is going on and I think that we could have benefited from much more time. I would love to just stay and discuss this novel for hours on end; I would. So please keep this in your curriculum. Please Please Please.
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