Fantasy and reality
“Never Let Me Go”, by Kazuo Ishiguro takes place during the 1990s in dystopian England. It depicts a world where the breakthrough of human cloning leads to institutionalized organ harvesting, prolonging the human lifespan. Using euphemisms to positively frame their actions, these clones are called “students”. Once the “students” grow up they’re called “veterans”, they “donate” their organs, and then “complete” once they have fulfilled their duty. While fascinating, Ishiguro is not interested in telling a story about the rise and inner workings of the cloning system. He treats the characters with dignity, asking salient questions that apply to all human beings: “How are they trying to find their place in the world and make sense of their lives? To what extent can they transcend their fate? As time starts to run out, what are the things that really matter?”(Wroe) To ponder the nature of human existence is a part of the human experience. But their circumstances as clones prompts a closer examination of what makes something human. Being a derived person with an assigned “purpose” and a shortened life, these characters have limited time to contemplate what matters most. The novel is an attempt by the narrator, Kathy H, to look back and find what makes life worth it. And as she relives her memories, the readers search for the same thing. The world of “Never Let Me Go” is driven by fantasies. Characters constantly believe and assume things about others and their society. They have ideas they reach to and ideals they strive towards. But under scrutiny none of these hopes hold up. In the end, they lay down their dreams, resign, and let go.
Ruth, one of Kathy’s closest friends, exemplifies the desire to believe. Ambitious and controlling, Ruth struggles to find any possibility of fulfillment substantial enough to grasp. During their time at Hailsham, Ruth is a bold and vocal child. She leads a “secret guard”, to protect her favorite Guardian, Miss Geraldine. The secret guard creates a make-believe bond with Miss Geraldine, identifying with her out of a desire for affection. Ruth’s constant need to “pretend” around her peers, reveals a deep insecurity and desire for others approval. As a young adult in the Cottages, Ruth adopts the slang and body language from the older veteran students. Meanwhile she ignores and belittles her childhood friends Tommy and Kathy. Even her relationship with Tommy is used as a manipulative distancing tool to keep Tommy and Kathy apart, fearful of being left alone if they end up together. While divisive and mean at times, Ruth’s pretending also manifests itself through an earnest hope and kindness. When Kathy loses her tape, Ruth organizes a search party for it. At the Cottages, Ruth indulges in the fantasy of her “dream future”, where she inhabits an open plan office that she sees in a magazine. She travels all the way to Norfolk to see her “possible”, her potential original human. She even buys into the rumor of a “deferral”, where if two people in love were able to prove it, they could get a few more years together before donating.
However, Ruth’s dreams are revealed to be fragile when challenged. She becomes embarrassed when Kathy calls her out on claims of special treatment by Miss Geraldine. She constantly tries to save face in front of people she wants to impress. Ruth’s “possible” turns out to be a bust when viewed up close. Ironically, they find her in the same open-plan office as Ruth’s dream future. The life she imagined for herself is blocked off, observable but unattainable. In the end, Ruth resigns to her role as a donor: “I was pretty much ready when I became a donor. It felt right. After all, it's what we're supposed to be doing, isn't it?" (Ishiguro 227) She pretends her decision to become a donor is a choice, as if she is finally fulfilling her purpose. But it’s the only option she ever really had. Before she completes, Ruth makes one last attempt to set things right. After getting Kathy and Tommy back together as adults, she admits in keeping them apart when they were younger. She drops her indirect pretense and takes responsibility for her past actions. She gives them Madame’s address and pleas for them to try for a deferral (Ishiguro 232). Fittingly, she tells this to Kathy under a billboard featuring an open-plan office. What was once an impossible dream for herself in the past, now represents a hope for those she loves in the future. Ruth knows that her life is almost over, but Madame’s address introduces the possibility that at least Tommy and Kathy might extend their time together. Ruth dies with her dreams intact knowing Kathy will become Tommy’s carer and hoping the time they have together will be enough.
But even the idea of a deferral is a flawed in its conception. It doesn’t change their ultimate fate. It doesn’t mean they won’t end up completing. It’s just a few extra years. It’s a temporary rain check on an inevitable end. Similarly, the people benefitting from the donations have the same desire for more time. Their lives are extended at the cost of others, but it doesn’t change the nature of their mortality. The irony of the treatment of clones as subhuman is emphasized when juxtaposing the means by which “original” humans and clones wish to extend their lives. For the clones, it is through true love and the bearing of the soul through art and the humanities. For the “civilized” people, it is the farming and slaughter of other human beings.
Aware of the hypocrisy and immoral attitudes towards the treatment of clones, Hailsham is a well intentioned attempt to better the lives of the children and show their humanity through promotion of the arts. In function, however, it is a school operated through deception and secrecy. The Guardians, protect both the children’s innocence and knowledge of the outside world. They prevent smoking, promote wellness, and avoid the topic of donations at all costs. Their withholding of information allows the children to speculate and dream. Miss Lucy, one of the Guardians, doesn’t think it’s right to let them hope about possibilities that won’t ever come true. Though harsh, she tells them the truth: their lives have been set out for them. And for them to “live decent lives”, they have to know who they are and what lies ahead (Ishiguro 81). Miss Lucy suggests that to make the most of life, it is better to live fully in reality and take the future head on.
It is later revealed that this stance stood in opposition to Miss Emily’s view of a “decent life”. Upon Kathy and Tommy’s visit for a deferral, Miss Emily remarks “You’ve had good lives, you’re educated and cultured” (Ishiguro 261). Art is the means through which Hailsham tried to prove the children’s possession of souls. It is the belief that humanistic education deepens and rounds out a human being that prompts the collection of the children’s artwork for a gallery. But like the rest of the hopes and dreams featured in the novel, this plan falls apart under inspection. It relies on the idea that the humanities make us better people, but its value is seemingly rendered void because of its minimal impact on the organ donation system and the people purporting it(lecture). The truth is that once the process of institutionalizing a desirable product had begun there was no going back. No would stop and taking away a precious commodity from the world, especially once everyone has grown to rely on it. Miss Emily displays a complacent demeanor, resigning to the failure of their institution as the result of public dissent. Even the supposed charitable institution of Hailsham harbored personal feelings of revulsion towards the children. In trying to show the humanity of the clones, they revealed an ingrained sense of disdain for them. Hailsham’s true nature is woven into its name: a sham that was conceived and executed through deceit.
While Miss Lucy stands for accepting the reality of the new world, and Miss Emily stands satisfied with having tried to fight it, Madame Marie-Claude exhibits a different response to Kathy and Tommy’s plight. Before leaving, Kathy asks to confirm her theory of why Madame cried back at Hailsham. She thinks that Madame looked into her and was saddened by the tragedy that she would never be able to bear a child. Madame notes that is interesting, but admits she can’t read minds. She mourned in the corridor because she saw a little girl, holding on firmly to the kind old world, as the colder new world replaced it (Ishiguro 272). Madame pities Kathy and Tommy. Unlike Ruth, they strive for the truth even as they hold onto hope. And the fact they toiled in vain is devestating. Neither the truth nor the arts has helped them find what they were looking for.
After eleven years as a carer, Kathy knows what lies ahead, but holds onto her memories before she gets there. She begins to look back on her days at Hailsham after being asked about her childhood by one of her donors. He wanted to live through her old memories to escape his own. Kathy resists at first, but indulges herself upon realizes how much she’s missed the people she has lost. Her first person narrative is fragmented and constantly amends itself. She admits to forgetting or mistaking details. Hailsham, Tommy, and Ruth are all just versions of the real ones, which means their thoughts can only be assumed through conjecture. With so many gaps filled with personal thoughts, memories are a type fantasy themselves. But unlike hopes for the future, one can always look back and re-experience their most cherished times.
Based on her personality, Kathy’s accounts have ample credibility. She is extremely observant. She often stands outside the action in her memories, carefully watching those around her and noticing subtle details about their behavior. At the Cottages, Kathy notices that many of the veteran couples have copied their gestures of affection from television shows. However, her restrained and indirect nature precludes the reader from her personal feelings. For instance, Kathy would rather walk away from Ruth than confront her. Whenever talking to Tommy in the gardens, she worries about being seen or overheard. She doesn't narrate that she looks through the porno magazines to search for her possible. Her feelings for Tommy only end up being revealed through other characters. For example, when Ruth mocks Tommy’s gallery theory in front of her, Kathy becomes furious. She contemplates laughing it off, defending tommy verbally, or even embracing him. But instead she turns and walks away: “something in [her] just gave up”(Ishiguro 195). This passivity is similar to when she later accepts her fate as a donor. It is unclear as to where her lack of agency stems from. Does her sense of futility cause her to resign, or does her set role as a donor prompt her to surrender? Part of it may be part of Kathy’s personality, which would rather evade than confront. But the other part may be a result of cultural values ingrained along with her determined end.
As futile as it may be, Kathy’s belief in Norfolk suggests a part of her that will always keep hoping. At Hailsham, Miss Emily describes Norfolk as a “lost corner,” which causes the students to imagine that all lost property found in England winds up in there(Ishiguro 65). The idea of finding lost objects in Norfolk is a childhood comfort to the students at Hailsham. It reassures that if loss is inevitable, the lost can always be found again. Kathy even finds a copy of her lost cassette tape in Norfolk with her friends, a testament to Norfolk’s power. After Tommy completes, Kathy returns to Norfolk alone. She wishes to indulge one last time in the fantasy of recovering what she has lost, hoping to reawakens Norfolk’s power. She imagines Tommy standing on the horizon. But before he gets too close, she turns away:“The fantasy never got beyond that—I didn’t let it—and though the tears rolled down my face, I wasn’t sobbing or out of control. I just waited a bit, then turned back to the car, to drive off to wherever it was I was supposed to be” (Ishiguro 288). Kathy’s final fantasy is as calm and controlled. Tommy’s distant wave is a faint reminder of the close embrace they shared in the fields after visiting Madame and Miss Emily. She doesn’t talk about her emotional state, merely the physical act of crying. Similar to Ruth, Kathy’s restraint has always been used as a means of control, but more for herself than others. Her dampened description hides her dolor, just as she’s hidden her love for Tommy all of her life. Ultimately, Kathy can recover her losses only in her memory and in her imagination. And even then, they are mere dreams, shades of the real thing.
The novel’s lack of satisfactory answer to the questions it poses, gnaws at the reader’s desire for “completion”. Just as Kathy is on the verge of “completing’, the end of the novel is on the cusp of a seemingly meaningful conclusion, but walks away before it gives one. Mark Romanek’s film adaptation attempts to provide some sort of sense to the questions asked by Ishiguro. The theme he wishes to impart is to be grateful you have together. Besides obvious changes from the medium shift, such as the loss of unreliable first person narration and reliance on a soft color palette to convey tone, Romanek is explicit with his intent: “I was making a love story”(Curtis). As a result character dynamics shift. Kathy and Ruth’s relationship becomes predominantly defined by their relationships to Tommy. Because of the lack of exposition on Kathy’s side, Ruth seems more antagonistic and cruel rather than a foil to Kathy. Romanek’s hope for the audience is to walk away with the realization that “life is brief. Love is the important thing, the rest is nonsense”(Curtis). Romanek’s film is beautiful and features heartbreaking performances. But also is just a dream of what the book could mean.
Love story though it may be,“Never Let Me Go“ encompasses so much more. It manages to capture the excitement and the mundanity of being an ordinary human being. Kathy’s narration itself is a “donation” to a gallery for the reader. We see her soul and recognize her humanity. It's the collision of this humanity and the systematised inhumanity that forms such despondent melancholy. Kathy, Tommy, and Ruth didn’t just die because of their mortality. They were exploited and used for other’s gain. Dystopian novels are often used as warning tales. Perhaps Ishiguro attempts to hint at the wider exploitation of the many by the few that we every day take for granted. Showing the humanity of the systematically disadvantaged through Kathy, Ruth, and Tommy.
“Never Let Me Go” doesn’t state whether it is better to die believing in the future like Ruth, face reality in the present like Tommy, or indulge in the past like Kathy. But like Ruth and Kathy, I’m inclined to believe that hopes beyond death and memories may be the best way to recover the lost. Unlike hopes in the world, they can never be disproven. They can never be taken away. Ruth died hoping for others. The people Kathy has loved and the places she’s been to always stay with her. And in a world so relentlessly driven forward, these might be the only things one can hold on to.