Who’s Afraid of a Nobel Prize Winner – a Celebration of Kazuo Ishiguro

By Catriona Troth

Stop the average reader in a library or bookshop and ask them to name five winners of the Nobel Prize for Literature and many would struggle. Ask them to name one that they’ve read, and they might struggle even more. The impression, however unjust, is that the prize is given to the obscure, the difficult – to authors you certainly wouldn’t think of taking away on holiday.

This year’s winner is different. Even non-readers are likely to know of Kazuo Ishiguro, through the films of his books Remains of the Day and Never Let Me Go.

I remember shortly after reading Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go (2005), I was in Cornwall. Walking along a cliff path, I came upon one of the stewards of the Boardmasters Festival. She was sitting on a stile, a book in her hands. I recognised the cover of Never Let Me Go and had to stop and talk to her. It was that sort of book. One you wanted to share with everyone. Even if the book infuriated you, you had to talk about it.

Ishiguro’s first two novels, A Pale View of the Hills (1982) and An Artist of the Floating World (1986) were set in Japan. In an interview in the Paris Review (2005), Ishiguro talks of how writing about Japan freed him from the constraints of everyday life in London. It seems those two novels allowed Ishiguro to find his own voice, because Remains of the Day (1989) which won the Booker Prize, is set in an English country house and is narrated by a pitch-perfect English butler.

In another interview from 2015, widely quoted since the Nobel Prize announcement was made, Ishiguro gently mocked those reviewers so taken up with the novelty of a Japanese-born author heritage writing in English they couldn’t avoid clichéd Japanese-y metaphors.

“They would talk about a still pond. With carp.” 

I will try not to fall into that trap! But it is certainly true there is a stillness and quiet on the surface of Ishiguro’s writing that he uses to conceal underlying turmoil. It draws you in, only slowly revealing what lies beneath.

In Remains of the Day, that stillness conceals both the narrator’s own emotions and dark political secrets. In Never Let Me Go, the characters appear to move almost placidly from childhood innocence towards their inevitable fate. But pay attention! The anguish is there. You just need to listen for it in the quiet.

Here are some other comments on Ishiguro’s writing:

JJ Marsh on Nocturnes

Occasionally, you come across a piece of art which creeps up on your emotions. Kazuo Ishiguro is a master at that with his novels, but can also pull off a similar feat with his short stories.

 In Nocturnes, literature and music intertwine. A collection of short stories, which feels like a full concert in five movements, changes mood and tempo with great subtlety, leaving a melancholy resonance behind.

This is about relationships, both between characters and with music, all in a minor key. Classic Ishiguro understatement leads to achingly poignant moments, but he also demonstrates his sense of humour with a few well set up moments of pure farce. As the title suggests, there is darkness, but also moonlight, laughter and that quiet magic which happens when you catch a lovely refrain carried on an evening breeze.

Gillian E Hamer on Never Let Me Go

One of the most poignant and thought provoking novels I have ever read. One of the only books on my shelf I've read more than twice! There's something unique in the writing of this novel that as a reader I find captivating and as a writer fills me with jealousy. The characters are so real, vivid and engaging - and yet the narrative is a plethora of questions and confusion.

It's very difficult to describe the storyline without giving too much away, and I don't want this to be a plot synopsis, but what seems like a story of innocence and adolescence through the eyes of a group of youngsters, always has a dark, ominous cloud hanging over the story, and, as the truth is gradually revealed the reader is pulled through every feasible emotion. And it also contains one of the strongest plot twists that stays with me still.

If you want a book that ticks every box and ties up every loose end, this isn't for you. But if you want a book that will turn your world on its head for a while I would highly recommend Never Let Me Go. I am so glad a writer like Kazuo Ishiguro has won the Nobel Prize - for ordinary readers like me it's a justification somehow that our feelings count too!

Sheila Bugler on When We Were Orphans

I read the final section of When We Were Orphans on a London bus, travelling from my job in Oxford Street to my home near Tower Bridge. I spent the entire journey weeping uncontrollably, devastated by the haunting sadness at the heart of Ishiguro’s fifth novel.

Like many of my favourite books, When We Were Orphans was recommended to me by my father. I had already read – and loved – The Remains of The Day (another ‘dad’ recommendation) so my expectations were high. 

The novel is narrated by Christopher Banks, a famous detective in 1930s England. Through the gradual unfolding of his memories, Christopher’s early life is revealed to the reader – an expatriate childhood in Old Shanghai, boarding school in England and on to the privileged world of high society London.

Although he’s a top detective, Christopher has never been able to solve the central mystery that has shaped his life – the disappearance, in Old Shanghai when he was still a young boy, of his parents. As the novel unfolds, it becomes painfully clear that this loss is at the heart of everything Christopher does. It defines him and renders him incapable of moving past this tragedy. 

Believing his parents are still alive, Christopher returns to Shanghai, a city on the brink of war. By now, it’s apparent that the great detective’s image of himself is at odds with the impression others have of him. The more he is drawn into the catastrophic events of the Sino-Japanese War, the more he loses sense of what is real and what isn’t. 

The moment Christopher finally learns the truth about his mother’s terrible fate, and realises how much she loved him, is unbearably moving. Although it’s too late to free him from the ‘emptiness’ that has been with him since he lost her, he realises too that ‘Her feelings for me, they were always just there, they didn’t depend on anything.’

When We Were Orphans is a devastating tale of the unconditional nature of parental love. Having spent over half my life in a different country to my own parents, the novel reminded me that afternoon on the bus that I should never take that love for granted.

Bookclub Discussion: Our Endless Numbered Days

Triskele Bookclub’s October novel up for discussion is Claire Fuller’s Our Endless Numbered Days. 

I first became interested in this book when I read the review by Triskele author, Gillian Hamer on the Bookmuse review site.

About the Author ... Claire Fuller trained as a sculptor before working in marketing for many years. In 2013 she completed an MA in Creative Writing, and wrote her first novel, Our Endless Numbered Days. It was published in the UK by Penguin, in the US by Tin House, in Canada by House of Anansi and bought for translation in 15 other countries. Our Endless Numbered Days won the 2015 Desmond Elliott prize. Claire's second novel, Swimming Lessons will be published in early 2017.

About Our Endless Numbered Days ... Peggy Hillcoat is eight years old when her survivalist father, James, takes her from their home in London to a remote hut in the woods and tells her that the rest of the world has been destroyed. Deep in the wilderness, Peggy and James make a life for themselves. They repair the hut, bathe in water from the river, hunt and gather food in the summers and almost starve in the harsh winters. They mark their days only by the sun and the seasons.

When Peggy finds a pair of boots in the forest and begins a search for their owner, she unwittingly begins to unravel the series of events that brought her to the woods and, in doing so, discovers the strength she needs to go back to the home and mother she thought she’d lost.

After Peggy's return to civilization, her mother learns the truth of her escape, of what happened to James on the last night out in the woods, and of the secret that Peggy has carried with her ever since.

Along with fellow Triskele colleague, Gillan Hamer, reader Claire Whatley and book blogger, Linda Hill joined in the discussion of this book.

Liza: Personally, I found this book a 5-star read, and whilst it has garnered mostly excellent reviews on Amazon and Goodreads, it also has a few not-so-great reviews. I put this down mainly due to the novel’s disturbing and depressing themes of mental illness, kidnap and child abuse. “Disturbing … horrifying … just plain wrong… nauseous…” were some of the comments. However, in my view, the author deftly handled these dark themes through captivating, lyrical prose and by creating a sense of realism, despite the apparent incredibility of this “adventure”. For example, the deep forest in which Peggy’s father takes her to live becomes a third, very well-rounded character: a dark and threatening but very beautiful thing. Indeed, the Chicago Tribune’s review states ... Fuller weaves a hypnotic intensity of detail into her narrative that gives every lie the feel of truth.

So, how do you rate something so disturbing but so well-written?

Gillian: I don't think I considered the book disturbing at all, there are worse things out there in routine crime procedurals. The book stayed with me for a long time after I'd read it and I rated it 5 stars. To be honest the cleverness of the writing comes from writing this through a child's eyes so the naivety and perception we see masks the real horror of the situation. As an author I know how difficult this is to achieve so I have nothing but praise for the author and the writing. I'm actually about to read her next book 'Swimming Lessons.'

Claire: Overall, I’d give it 4 and ¾ stars. It’s very much a novel in three acts: one - life before Peggy is taken to the forest, two - the forest years, and three – what happens after. Acts Two and Three are definitely 5-star whereas the first part of the novel (before their years in the forest) has quite a slow build-up and it is occasionally quite hard to see where the story is leading. I think this is to some extent because we’re seeing mysterious adult behavior through the eyes of a child. However, I would say to any potential reader it’s absolutely worth persevering with what might seem a slow start. Fuller’s prose is definitely 5-star and all in all, it’s a brilliant debut.

Linda: I found it hard to rate Our Endless Numbered Days highly enough. When I read it I didn't realize that the author had been a sculptor and that doesn't surprise me in the least. The attention to the most essential detail in this pared down novel was perfect. I felt there was a deceptive simplicity in the prose that was almost hypnotic.


Liza: Given the disturbing themes, I would hesitate to recommend this novel to certain friends I know would not enjoy the story, however I would definitely recommend it to most reader friends. Would you recommend Our Endless Numbered Days and why?

Gillian: Yes, I would. Maybe it isn't the book for everyone, but I'm afraid there isn't a book out there to suit absolutely everyone's tastes - and nor should there be! I think you would have to be very thin skinned to find anything about this book distasteful - the six o'clock evening news is probably more graphic! But I think as human beings, we need to explore everything humanity throws at us in order to understand there are so many layers of what it is to be human and how important it is to be open to all of them.

Claire: I’m one of those readers who avoids graphic violence, cruelty or abuse in fiction, but I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend Our Endless Numbered Days, perhaps with a caveat that the ending is pretty grim and dark. I loved Claire Fuller’s exploration of both the physical challenges of survival in the forest and even more so, the psychological elements. The ‘dark’ scenes were sensitively handled, in my opinion.

Linda: I don't agree entirely, Liza. I would recommend it to all readers, even those who have experienced similar themes in real life as I feel it would help them realize they are not alone and others can understand what they are suffering. For those of us for whom Peggy's experiences are way beyond our knowledge I feel Our Endless Numbered Days provides such emotional insight into these topics and themes that we become better able to understand the world around us and to empathise with those like Peggy.

Liza: Narrating a story entirely from the point of view of an eight-year-old girl might be cumbersome for authors as well as readers. As in Emma Donoghue’s Room, I felt the author handled this expertly. Do you think Claire Fuller handled this well?

Gillian: I thought the author handled Peggy perfectly in all aspects and I think for anyone considering writing from a child's POV reading this book is a must! I found the voice solid and believable throughout and the inner thoughts and feelings of a girl of her age, in that position, were handled superbly. Because of that I found I connected with her, despite the age gap, I understood what she was going through.

Claire: Yes, I do. I found Peggy’s narrative voice convincing throughout and at no point did the author lose the authenticity of that. Peggy’s trust, anger, confusion were all very real to me. If anything, I would have been interested in a deeper exploration of how she dealt with the challenges of puberty without any reliable adult to explain or assist her with that. It’s an aspect of the story that was rather skimmed over, I felt.

Linda: Absolutely. In fact, as I read I completely forgot Peggy's age, but just immersed myself in the narrative. This wasn't a character of any age, this was a real human being to whom I felt an emotional attachment. There is a clear 'voice' behind the writing, but it isn't Claire Fuller's, it's Peggy herself, regardless of age. I loved the fact that Peggy's voice wasn't a contrived childish one, but was simply that of an individual who had a story to tell.


Liza: Throughout the story, we flit back and forth between Peggy as a child before the “event”, her time with her father in the woods, and 1985, when she is found, an adult back home with her mother. I enjoyed reading each timeline as it gave insight into Peggy’s life before, during and after, as well as the consequential effects of the kidnapping and abuse. Did you enjoy it too, or did it disrupt the rhythm of the story?

Gillian: I thought it added extra depth to the story and I had no problem keeping track of the story. I think flashbacks, if handled correctly, work really well - and the author got it spot on here.

Claire: Hmm. Initially I found myself having to keep up with the time swaps but once I was engrossed in the story I accepted them and had no problem with them. However, I think it could be argued that a more straightforward chronological narrative might have worked just as well and would have given fewer clues to later outcomes.

Linda: I'm not usually a great lover of novels that switch between different time scales, but I loved this in Our Endless Numbered Days. I felt I was being given real insight into the characters - and indeed into a psychological world I'd never normally encounter. I also think that the iterative image of music helped draw the strands together so that transitions felt seamless and fluid.

Liza: There is one scene towards the end of this book that I won’t forget in a hurry, but I don’t want to give anything away! Was there any particular scene that remained with you, after you finished reading?

Gillian: Not so much one scene maybe for me - but the location in the woods. It was so vivid to me, maybe because it was Peggy's whole world for so long that she knew every tree, every knot of wood in the cabin. It became very real to me and I think that was one thing I recalled long after I finished the book.

Claire: Oh yes – the scene you’re speaking of! Grim as it was, it needed close and careful reading to be sure of what was going on as the author clearly wanted to retain a degree of ambiguity. It’s a clever piece of writing, but I won’t say any more than that…

Linda: There isn't an individual scene that sticks in my mind especially, rather a resonance of feeling and emotion that is still with me some 18 months after I first read Our Endless Numbered Days. I can still picture the cabin and the woods in my mind's eye incredibly clearly.


Liza: And lastly, the end of this novel had me wondering whatever became of Peggy. How could anyone mature into a “normal” functioning adult after this kind of experience? Any thoughts on that?

Gillian: I think it probably very much depends on the person. It's amazing what a human being can go through and come out again the other side. I would like to meet a grown up Peggy actually. I feel she would be a very determined and driven person as an adult, who would find it hard to trust anyone but when she finally did give her heart, she would give it for life. I think some people (and I'd probably include myself here) have a way of packing away the 'bad stuff' and 'bad memories' into a far corner of their brain - and if Peggy was able to do that I think she would mature into a good person who refused to be a victim of her past and went on to achieve great things.

Claire: It’s a good question. And of course, it begs another question: what is ‘normal’? Over the years there have been several real life cases of young people being kidnapped and locked away from society for years. As far as ‘normal’ functioning is concerned I suppose it depends on a) the individual’s predisposition, b) on the quality of counselling they receive, and c) most importantly, the support network they have around them. It would be a long hard adjustment but I think anything is possible.

Linda: I think it's surprising just what the human psyche can live through and still behave and appear 'normal'. We are incredibly resilient. Had I been Peggy, I doubt I would have dealt with the situation so well, but then until we are in certain situations we don't know just how we will respond. I certainly have taught youngsters whom I can't believe are so well balanced when I've discovered their past and their home lives. I could see Peggy developing problems in the future, perhaps having difficulties with relationships, but equally I could see her becoming a psychologist or psychiatrist to help counsel others!


Liza: Thanks everyone for your comments! If anyone else would like to say anything about Our Endless Numbered Days, please feel free to comment below.