A return to form, that’s one way to put it. Klara and the Sun, as of writing, is Ishiguro’s latest in a strong library of works — but it seems to have prevailed as one of his more memorable novels.
Following Klara, an Artificial Friend (AF), the reader is introduced to a dystopian, near-future vision of American society. Despite being machines that are designed to accompany and entertain children, each AF appears to have its own personality and traits. Klara’s defining trait is her ability to remember details, mannerisms, and voices, whilst also being able to closely imitate them.
Klara herself is introduced to a rather fragmented family, one with a separated father, over-worked and stressed mother, a stubborn maid, and an ill girl daughter for Klara to accompany. The environment Klara is in, coupled with her naivety about the world around her (such as believing the sun to be sentient and that it sleeps somewhere on Earth), are what make her a memorable narrator.
What Klara fails to grasp is often apparent to the reader, and her position as an AF makes it hard for her to protest or disobey those around her. The power dynamic makes Klara easy to pity, likeable, and sometimes quite concerning in how she operates. She is a character that the reader can never consistently predict, which assists the story that is fixed within only a few locations.
Never Let Me Go constantly rang in my ears as I read through Ishiguro’s sci-fi story, for better or worse. Whilst I still favour the former, it’s clear that Klara and the Sun evokes much of the younger Ishiguro and his interesting ways of viewing how technology and government will change in time — daring us to question our worth as humans, whether in comparison to the cloned children from Hailsham, or to the AFs of this story.
Ishiguro clearly desires for us to question at which point a machine is comparable to humans, and whether it is possible to love them, and for them to reciprocate such love. What appears simple on the surface is often much deeper, and far more telling, within this surprisingly tragic novel.
For that reason, Klara and the Sun stands out as a strong read. Whilst I do feel it lacks the complexity of The Remains of the Day, or the sadder tones found within the aforementioned Never Let Me Go, it still resides in a strong position within the author’s talented selection of works.
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