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Post by cassiecumberland on Jun 4, 2014 4:42:27 GMT
"The fact that Ishiguro’s story takes place in a world that looks very much like our own brings what can be a rather abstract discussion of “universal philosophical questions” and “a reflection of the life, values, and ideas of a culture” devastatingly close to home."
My reading style is really encapsulated by this quote by you, Mr Parris. Like I mentioned in class, I am always thinking about the authors intentions and why they wrote the book-what historical event was taking place, what was the world like, was equality present? Therefore, when reading Never Let Me Go, I, of course, thought all about how this relates to my own life. Although Emily W pointed out that in the story we are not "Kathy" we are those who stand by while horrible unethical things happen, I'd like to argue that I can comfortably be both. I live in a world where I am fed CRAP-and I mean CRAP, by big corporations and skeezy ethics. SO while I am being manipulated by someone up above me (not God) but some CEO or something who makes profits while we middle class citizens die, I am also oppressing Malaysian women by having a shopping addiction- Forever 21 buys their products from China and Malaysia where work is not regulated and sweat shops still exsist. Yes I have "slaves" (because I'm an American and America enslaves other countries to keep costs down) but I am also a "slave" because I work so America can thrive.
It's SOOo complex and interesting, so there's my experience with the world and my book. Overall, I like what you said because these stories we read do take place in a world that looks too much like the one I'm living in.
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Post by jennyxu on Jun 4, 2014 5:10:55 GMT
For the reasons mentioned, the imaginative but distant texts of Orwell and Huxley, I have generally avoided dystopian texts in the past. Yes, they are interesting, but I find them hard to relate to. That is why I have enjoyed this novel a lot more, especially as I moved towards the end of the novel. There was this point in Kathy's narrative, when she talks to Miss Emily, in which I finally connected to the story. Wow, we are the people that benefit from the clones. Miss Emily says, "How can you ask a world that has come to regard cancer as curable, how can you ask such a world to put away that cure, to go back to the dark days? There was no going back. However uncomfortable people were about your existence, their overwhelming concern was that their own children, their spouses, their parents, their friends, did not die from cancer, motor neurone disease, heart disease" (263). This makes the situation in the novel seem so real and plausible. With the technological innovations of the modern day, this seems like a eerie possibility of the future, which forces me to think about the moral implications for the use of clones. Though it saves lives, should we also care about the lives we create through cloning? Because of these profound questions, this novel seems less like a dystopia and more like an exploration of our morals and values.
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Post by naomiporter on Jun 4, 2014 5:10:55 GMT
I completely agree with Mr. Parris (and most other people who commented on it) that the mysterious manner in which the book avoids, or rather—finds irrelevant—the history and context of the clones, is the thing that makes the "revelation" hit us so hard. I think it was so effective because rather than having to convince us that the main characters are real people with souls, as the guardians have to convince everyone else (or try), the author can operate under the assumption that they have souls and then shock us with the information that some people doubt it.
I think this book first appears as a normal story about the characters' childhoods, relationships, and personal lives, and that is why it allows us see the characters so clearly as ourselves. It makes me wonder how I would go about convincing someone that I was a real human with a soul, and I can't help thinking that I would go about it by writing this book. Particularly in this age where cloning is a real ethical question that we need to address, this book is extremely successful at making it real and present for us as (presumably) human readers.
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Post by jamiezimmerman on Jun 4, 2014 5:36:28 GMT
I think Ishiguro's whole point is that the more realistic and life-like the "dystopia" is, the more impact-ful it becomes. Ishiguro's tone feels so nonchalant as he (Kathy) reminisces of her memories at Hailsham, at the Cottages, and as a carer. Ishiguro thinks that Kathy and Tommy and Ruth's universe is our reality as well. Near the end of the book, Miss Lucy explains that their program lost support because people don't like thinking about where their organs came from. We are in an identical situation. We don't like to think about the blood-drenched, abusive slaughterhouses where our meat comes from. We don't like to think about where the gas in our cars comes from. Explicitly dsytopian novels like 1984 are so exaggerated that it is easy to see the comparison between the novel's world and our world. But in a slightly more moderate novel like NLMG, it is easy to forget how like their society our own society is. I don't necessarily think that either type of dystopia is more truthful or effective or "close to home". But in different ways they approach the same theory: that our society is no more ideal than the ones presented in these novels.
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Post by yongkim on Jun 4, 2014 6:02:55 GMT
I love dystopian novels, and Never Let Me Go did not disappoint. Although you have stated that there is a challenge with teaching dystopian novels in that it may be difficult to look past the exaggeration, I believe the unrealistic nature of dystopian novels, while having proximity to our own experiences, is what makes these novels so captivating. I definitely agree with your assessment that Ishiguro's story takes place in a world very similar to our own. The fact that these students are clones is obviously essential to the story; however, there are so many things we can relate to within the story (relationship drama, Ruth's constant lying, etc).
Furthermore, one thing that I enjoyed about Never Let Me Go was how Ishiguro did not state a solution. The problem of every clone essentially accepting their fate (conformity) is one of the central problems in this novel. However, I respected the fact that a solution or alternative was not made explicit. This allows for the reader to have freedom and to interpret some form of resolution to the central problem.
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Post by madisonarmst on Jun 4, 2014 6:07:11 GMT
I completely agree with your assessment of the novel. For me, what makes this novel so interesting, yet terrifying, is how realistic it is. The characters, although bred for the sole purpose of being organ donors, are incredibly relatable. They have personalities, hopes and dreams, just like the rest of us. The one thing I struggled with on this front was the notion of finding meaning in one's life. An integral part of the universal human experience involves finding and creating meaning in one's life. For the clones, however, they are told from a very young age that their sole purpose for their lives is to donate their organs. Instead of having the opportunity to create meaning in their lives, the clones are told how their lives will make an impact. They are missing a vital part of the human experience, but yet they are so similar to us that the experience seems all too real. It is impossible not to relate to and sympathize with the clones. For me, this is absolutely terrifying, but fascinating at the same time.
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Post by rubyking on Jun 4, 2014 6:09:30 GMT
I do think the book is very significant in learning a lot of things about ourselves. The clearest thing I took away from my experience is that so many criticize Kathy and her classmates for not rebelling against the system and taking advantage of a possible opportunity to live, yet we are all committers of this crime, every day. We constantly give up on teh small oppurtunities to relish in the human experience, simply because we think we can't do something, or that it's not worth it. That is very scaring.
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Post by avinash on Jun 4, 2014 6:22:04 GMT
I think your assessment falls in line with my relationship with this novel. Part of raising a question is including something that doesn’t “fit.” This novel does so without changing the whole setting to one that is unrecognizable. This makes the questions easier to dissect and more palatable to the reader. Another aspect that adds to this is the character relatability. This is an aspect of literature that often draws a reader in and keeps him or her engaged and involved.
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amychen
New Member
“But the wild things cried, “Oh please don’t go—we’ll eat you up—we love you so!”
Posts: 47 
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Post by amychen on Jun 4, 2014 6:43:01 GMT
Sorry for posting so late! I didn't know we had forum posts until the night before Monday and I've been having a surprisingly busy week finals, workload, and college forms-wise. Regardless, I'm here now! To reference what we ended class with on Monday: This is pretty representative of how dystopian texts feel to us. Characters in dystopian novels seem to be fine with the conditions they live in until one character sees the corruption or inequality in the system and attempts to rebel. The story fionabyrne mentioned in her earlier forum post, "Harrison Bergeron," is reflective of this. However, I'd like to dance with the notion that the point of dystopia is to come close to reality. During our discussion of dystopia, I realized that the difference between hyperbolic satire and dystopia is the difference between joking about eating babies and actually eating babies (I'm 99.99% sure Mr. Parris will get that reference but in the case that one of my classmates reads this and thinks I'm sick and twisted, please read "A Modest Proposal."). So, I don't think the point of dystopia is as much to be close to reality as much as it is to be reflective of reality. But as we talked about in class, this often becomes reductive. The bad guys are the ones who withhold knowledge from the citizens, or Big Brother, and the researcher is at fault for giving the monkey cucumber. But while this structure might be helpful in creating a political message, it refuses to acknowledge that throwing cucumbers at the person in the white lab coat is not going to stop further inequality. What disturbs me the about Never Let Me Go is that the students never pull the cucumber move. While they get into conflicts with each other, they're very optimistic about the people who take care of them, such as Madame, Miss Emily, and Miss Lucy, and never rebel against "the system." Although to us it's clear to us through Kathy that they act very human, the problem is that both that the clones and humans "other" themselves so much that the clones don't believe they deserve equal treatment. My connection to the humanity of the clones was solidified by the similarity of the clone system to that of slaughterhouses. I'm personally love eating meat, but I don't think nearly enough about the ways I try to justify this. I've heard people say they only eat meat from "happy cows" a.k.a. free-range, grass-fed, and so on, but that doesn't keep us from killing them in the end. This is the same reasoning held by Madame and Miss Emily: This brings me to why I think Never Let Me Go is a great addition to the dystopian unit, if not in need of another more straightforward dystopian work to balance it out: Never Let Me Go is about a dystopian that is already happening. While 1984 was written pre-1984 and most dystopias are set in the future, Never Let Me Go clearly starts with "England, late 1990s" while it was published in 2005. And while we other novels we can distance ourselves and label actions as "Big Brother"ly and tell ourselves we'll never get to that point, Never Let Me Go tries to show us what happens when we are at that point. I don't read a lot of teen dystopia. SPOILER ALERT (1984, Harrison Bergeron, Anthem, WALL-E). In the dystopian novels I have read, I've noticed a bleak trend: In the end of 1984 and Harrison Bergeron, nothing changes. The protagonists die or are brainwashed. This is counteracted with books that lack reality, such as Ayn Rand's Anthem (You're going to pretty much Adam and Eve this and singlehandedly restart civilization? Really?), or the movie WALL-E (let's face it, they're all going to die in vain waiting for that plant to grow). The most valuable thing about Ishiguro's novel is that it highlights a distinct part of dystopian workss: that although we want a hero, and a successful one at that, dystopian novels often show a point of no return. Ishiguro's novel is a more effective dystopia for those already living in one. Instead of recognizing what we should avoid, it forces us to recognize the structures already present in our society, and in this way challenge our own values and beliefs. |
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Post by chrisb on Jun 4, 2014 6:46:27 GMT
Ishiguro is on the mound in the bottom of the ninth, and @avinash just struck out. We must avoid, at all costs, taking a reductive approach to this novel. Much like two clones weave together entirely different stories, a surface of identical consistency may actually exhibit two (if not more) complex dimensions. It is the duty of the reader to be perceptive to such subtleties. Please, Never Let Me Go be reductive.
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Post by Anna M. on Jun 4, 2014 6:47:51 GMT
I agree with Parris's assessment. Feeling close to the characters makes it all the more chilling when we find out how messed up their world really is and we realize" ....wait it's not that different from ours." My experience with school and peer relationships were very similar to those that Kathy had at Hailsham. I agree with Emily and Ruby's assessment that if living in the society of "Never Let Me Go" we would probably be the ones receiving the donations and that we are "the committers of the crime". After discovering the sad fate of Ruth, Tommy, and Kathy, I took a step back and thought about the big picture. I almost considered Ishiguro twisted for crafting a story in which the readers could develop intimacy with the characters and the world they live in, and then changing one awful detail that makes us see the wrongness of the situation. Then, there is the anger I feel thinking about how the characters didn't attempt to change their fate. But most of all, I think about how important Kathy's relationships with Ruth and Tommy are. Her relationships are true and pure, even in the messed up reality she lives in.
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Post by keelycorrigan on Jun 4, 2014 11:31:09 GMT
I MUST say that our conversation in class the other day was incredibly informative to my answer to this issue. I tended to see the powerful dystopia as the guiding light dystopia, the novel that gives us heroes for which we emotionally align and assimilate. Before our discussion, I had seen the "bad situation of another world, here's the politics, ohhh hero!!, take that evil thinly-veiled-metaphor-for-our-own-world leader!" books as the kind of dystopias that make real changes in someone.
But then we talked about our regression to sheephood. By ignoring this and focusing on the heroic individual, are these dystopias cottling us? Is it truly more alarming to read the story of the sheep, unchanged on her designated path to slaughter. I had to give this some thought. I read the last chapter again, and while it was reaffirming of plot factualities, it was not the kind of experience that brought answers.
Is is weird to say that I enjoy this kind of suspension between two ideas? Simply moving me, self-proclaimed stubborn, from a previous belief required the kind of activation energy needed to start a real chemical reaction, and now I'm reeling.
Peut-etre, this is why I had the kind of angry response to the novel as I did. I moved immediately to blame the author for killing two, leaving one, isolating one, not stopping the freight train heading toward the children I have just latched my emotional wagon, too. It could also be true that a source of my anger could be the unsettling portrait of my own sheepdom, reflected in the untouched faces of humans treated as less. It is alarming-- to watch it all happen without the Katniss, if you will, to step in. It is alarming to see the kind of reflection of life that literary circles have traditionally shunned in favor of "in your face" dystopias, as Steve called them. How interesting, how interesting...
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Post by hannahboe on Jun 4, 2014 12:24:33 GMT
This novel definitely hit close to home for me, entirely because of how real the characters and their relationships were. I cannot rightfully say that I "identify" with the characters in the sense that I know their struggle, but I can identify with their childhoods. Before any conversation about donors and carers and completion, all of these characters were kids. And they weren't weird kids either. They were kids that I know. Kids that I was. They had relationships and played games and made up crazy theories about the adults in their lives EXACTLY the way I did with my friends. This makes their understanding of and participation in the carer-donor process so heart breaking. Ishiguro allows us to relate to the characters and feel close to them, so it is incredibly hard for us to watch them be used and die.
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Post by billfeng on Jun 4, 2014 14:28:28 GMT
I really like how Ishiguro has Kathy as the main character since it shows the extent of which the existential capability of a human being could be deprived artificially - when it is an essence of the human character so essential for life. Looking from my Sartrean existentialist lens, I find NLMG to be fascinating as much as it is absolutely disturbing. Suppressing the will for survival and reproduction also translates to tearing apart the very thing that scientifically defines what can be defined as life. Realistically, I don't think Kathy could be suppressed to the extent she has been put to in the novel. But, as a dystopian novel, I think Ishiguro really does a good job with working around the existential question of human survival to explore the possibility of how we'd stand as a human species when our will to survive is oppressed.
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Post by haleyjensen on Jun 4, 2014 15:14:23 GMT
Without having any prior experience to dystopian novels, I totally agree. I actually had no idea that this was a dystopian novel until Ishiguro started using words like "clones" and "unzip"... I started to understand that it was a dystopian novel as Ishiguro continued to drop hints throughout the first half of the book. The fact that this was a dystopian novel did not at all sever my emotional connection with the characters. The tender heart of Tommy, Ruth's occasionally obnoxious personality, and Kathy's delicate friendships with them were all real-life, relevant issues, magnified by the situation in which they found themselves. The intensity, complicity, and weight of the relationships in the novel is what made me connect with this book more than anything else. For example, the relationship between Tommy and Kath was a beautiful best friendship and true love, but it was also something they thought their lives could depend on. And although in the end their lives did not lengthen because of their relationship, their lives were much richer and worthwhile because of their friendship. We, as humans (sorry pomo critics-I do think we're humans) have been created to live in community, and this is an idea that this dystopian novel managed to get across despite the fact that the main characters were different kinds of humans than we're used to.
Lewman summed up my feelings exactly when she said "When I read "Never Let Me Go," I almost forgot that I was reading a story about clones". Ishiguro did an incredible job crafting this novel, and if all dystopian novels developed such beautiful and intricate characters, I think the dystopian genre would be my favorite. But all dystopian novels do not do this, and that is what sets "Never Let Me Go" apart from the rest.
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