Never Let Me Go
Author:
Genres: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Book Type: Paperback
Author:
Genres: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Book Type: Paperback
Helpful Score: 1
*spoiler alert*
Touching, sad, and in the end just horrible, this novel tells the story of a woman with a purpose. Her purpose was chosen before birth, as a body full of parts for "donation" to humans. All of this woman's friends were the same and one by one, she watched them go.
I couldn't understand why they all didn't rebel and make the others understand that they were human, with human feelings and emotions and thoughts. Why must they be relegated to this life of divvying up their body parts for the greater good of humanity? This part frustrated me but I suppose it was nobler of them to continue on their path than to desert it.
The last scene, referencing her childhood joke about finding lost things in a particular place really touched me.
Upon further reflection, I find myself enraptured with this book. I find myself identifying so well with the clones. I donate blood, I am an organ donor, I wouldn't hesitate to give a kidney to a friend in need. It made me question whether or not I am just "parts" or is there a synergy that creates something larger in life with those parts? These clones, at least, never had to struggle with their purpose in life; they never had to question and fret and break down over what they "should" be doing with their lives. They knew. They knew when their lives would be over. They knew their lives and bodies would be given for the greater good of humanity. This is a life truly in service of others. Perhaps they did question that and ultimately decided that the cause was noble enough to proudly go through with it. Our own lives are more similar than we care to admit. We each want purpose, we each (most of us) want to help humanity and leave our mark, and we each have the ability to physically give a part of ourselves after death. We all know what the natural lifespan of a human is; that's the assumption we work under every day. Given these things, we are, essentially, the characters in this book and Ishiguro did an amazing job of pointing this out.
Touching, sad, and in the end just horrible, this novel tells the story of a woman with a purpose. Her purpose was chosen before birth, as a body full of parts for "donation" to humans. All of this woman's friends were the same and one by one, she watched them go.
I couldn't understand why they all didn't rebel and make the others understand that they were human, with human feelings and emotions and thoughts. Why must they be relegated to this life of divvying up their body parts for the greater good of humanity? This part frustrated me but I suppose it was nobler of them to continue on their path than to desert it.
The last scene, referencing her childhood joke about finding lost things in a particular place really touched me.
Upon further reflection, I find myself enraptured with this book. I find myself identifying so well with the clones. I donate blood, I am an organ donor, I wouldn't hesitate to give a kidney to a friend in need. It made me question whether or not I am just "parts" or is there a synergy that creates something larger in life with those parts? These clones, at least, never had to struggle with their purpose in life; they never had to question and fret and break down over what they "should" be doing with their lives. They knew. They knew when their lives would be over. They knew their lives and bodies would be given for the greater good of humanity. This is a life truly in service of others. Perhaps they did question that and ultimately decided that the cause was noble enough to proudly go through with it. Our own lives are more similar than we care to admit. We each want purpose, we each (most of us) want to help humanity and leave our mark, and we each have the ability to physically give a part of ourselves after death. We all know what the natural lifespan of a human is; that's the assumption we work under every day. Given these things, we are, essentially, the characters in this book and Ishiguro did an amazing job of pointing this out.
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