Hello Bookworms, only a few books touch me. But the few and far between that are why I continue to be such a devoted reader. Even from its cover, Klara and the Sun had always given me the inkling that something extraordinary awaited me inside. The cover, with its serene depiction, seemed to promise a story that would be both profound and peaceful. I get many feelings when reading the first page of a novel. Often, in a curious state, I’m trying to absorb as much information as possible, painting my mind with an extensive picture upon which I will create my foundation for the book. Usually, this involves slight anxiousness; when gathering all my facts, trying to retain them, and recalling the various names of all the side characters, my mind is often overwhelmed somewhat (in the best way possible). However, this book stuck out to me, as I felt none of the above—absolutely none of it. A wave of calmness came over me during the entire length. It is almost comparable to the quiet in horror films when one becomes so aware of the sounds around them, hyper-aware of themselves, that they realize how human they indeed are.

Genre: Science Fiction, Fiction, Dystopia

Rating:

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Publisher: March 2, 2021 by Alfred A. Knopf

Length: 303 pages, Hardcover.

summary:

From her place in the store, Klara, an Artificial Friend with outstanding observational qualities, watches carefully the behavior of those who come in to browse, and of those who pass on the street outside. She remains hopeful that a customer will soon choose her, but when the possibility emerges that her circumstances may change forever, Klara is warned not to invest too much in the promises of humans.

In Klara and the Sun, Kazuo Ishiguro looks at our rapidly changing modern world through the eyes of an unforgettable narrator to explore a fundamental question: what does it mean to love? (via Goodreads).

my thoughts

This book made me feel overtly human as it was written about someone, or something, that was not.

As I was hyper-aware of the non-humanness of our main character, I began to wonder what she would be like, act like, look like, to us all, and me, if she was human. What was my definition of a human? Of course, they are mainly what I have experienced in life, dogs being a close second, but I genuinely had never pondered that I am very naive about our mortality and our existence. I make a lot of assumptions about separating us from other species and robots. And Klara, with her poignant mimicry of human traits, challenged these assumptions. Her ability to evoke feelings and pain led me to believe that being human was simpler than I had presumed, and I felt a deep uninhibited connection to her.

Sometimes,’ she said, ‘at special moments like that, people feel a pain alongside their happiness. I’m glad you watch everything so carefully, Klara.

Kazuo Ishiguro, Klara and the Sun

This novel is uniquely structured. Alongside phenomenal writing, which was both easily understood and sweetened my vocabulary, in its retention ability, I was in love. The pace was also perfect! With no drag, I’m still debating what else to ask for as a reader. My complaint with science fiction books is often not of the premise but its execution. Ironically, ideas that are often too unique can become overwhelming for both the reader and the author. Juggling incredibly abstract and theoretical situations and realities makes one want to grasp anything tangible within reach. And when whatever that is isn’t adequately explained, there is a big disconnect.

I was only nervous about an area in this book. How would the dialogue come across with an AI as a main character? In her monotone, offputting tone and rhetoric, I’ve long cringed at even Siri. It’s never endearing to me, and I feel immediately uncomfortable. However, I wasn’t once bored of any conversations in any manner. They were all evident with Klara; her personality had the power to shine within any interaction, bringing a unique warmth and depth to each conversation. Her ability to engage and connect was genuinely remarkable and never unwanted. If anything, I wanted so much more of her. I wanted to know her, speak with her, and understand her truly. Because to me, she was human.

The ending led me to strike off a star from a possible five-star read. That ending had me yelling NO. I was stomping my feet. Now, maybe this was my mistake. I had a particular way I wanted this book to end. Considering this now, I was undoubtedly setting myself up for some disappointment. Still, in my eyes, I had so profoundly figured Klara out that I now understood the author and her ambitions in finalizing the conclusion. Perhaps this means I’m a know-it-all…sue me! Now, even with my horrific record of predicting book endings (_{if I had to guess, it is approximately…0-however books I have read in my lifetime)}. Keeping that in mind, I was still hooked on this prediction of mine; I was almost CERTAIN that it would end how I envisioned.

Alas, if it wasn’t evident, that did not occur. My assumptions were incorrect, and it was pity party time for me. It was a bit of a spoiler, but my thoughts were that Klara would ultimately betray her human companion, Josie, and be the reason for her demise rather than saving her. To me, this wasn’t a bitter ending; it felt right. It didn’t make me view Klara differently, either. Humans can be immoral. And many are truly bad. As a reader, I tried to avoid assuming that Klara was good. She had started life in a less biased state than any human most likely has. She was incredibly naive and neutral to the world’s social dimensions. And so if she had become a “bad guy,” I would not have blamed her, nor anyone; it simply would have been a likely outcome, one that many humans seem to take.

“I believe I have many feelings,” Klara says. “The more I observe, the more feelings become available to me.”

This wasn’t a light-hearted read from the start. The author wrote each sentence with this sense of purpose; it all felt intentional. So when the reader arrives at the last page, desperately praying that even the final word will offer some closure and conclusions, COMMENTARY OF ANY SORT about what we just spent hours thinking about when there’s absolutely. Nothing offered….it’s sad.

I am not a tremendous fan of “open-endings,” in which the reader is left to either come to their conclusions or leave it at that. I want closure. I want reliability and undeniable certitude. I want it, even if I don’t like what I read. I like the truth and don’t enjoy it when every reader can flip the final page, thinking wildly different things. Of course, this is a personal preference; I am aware of readers who enjoy the opposite of what I have described, who like the freedom, the curiosity, and the mystery they are left with. Life is entirely mysterious; my books should satisfy me.

Although I spoke about the ending, or lack thereof, for quite some time, I’m not as upset as I predicted a mediocre conclusion would make me. The bulk of the story was fantastic, and those portions significantly impacted me as a person and a reader. When I first put this book down, I was baffled. The ending had me slightly distraught (slightly, putting it lightly), yet I felt immense joy, pleasure, and gratitude that this book was written.

My initial review on Goodreads states_{(and I quote),} “My homework for tonight is to think about how I feel about this one and try to come up with some sort of understandable sentence, even if only for myself.” As someone who has never completed her homework, I am sorry to say it has finally happened. However, I do hope somewhere along here is one coherent sentence; my thoughts still need to be more apparent. I am confident that I would recommend Klara and the Sun to any reader of any age; prepare to fall in and out of love a million times with it.

Perhaps all humans are lonely. At least potentially

Kazuo Ishiguro, Klara and the Sun

about the author

Sir Kazuo Ishiguro (カズオ・イシグロ or 石黒 一雄), OBE, FRSA, FRSL is a British novelist of Japanese origin and Nobel Laureate in Literature (2017). His family moved to England in 1960. Ishiguro obtained his Bachelor’s degree from the University of Kent in 1978 and his Master’s from the University of East Anglia’s creative writing course in 1980. He became a British citizen in 1982. He now lives in London. (via goodreads)

My only wish, if I may, is to give Klara a big hug.

Thanks for reading!