Dominik Pucek

I appreciate the way Ishiguro is able to handle science fiction with a very natural narrative. It is not trying to be the genre. More so, it is an analysis of the kinds of troubles the victims of cloning may face, and ultimately illustrates just how human (and perhaps a bit childish) they are.

But more in line with the concern of this class, the narrative is quite profoundly engaged with the process of memory - how memories are shifted from the truth of what happened from the accounts of others as well as the narrator. There are several moments where Kathy is clearly showing us how Ruth incorporates additional elements in the reconstruction of her memories, and this agrees with the conclusions Sacks and the science of Radiolab comes to, as well as resonating with moments in our own lives. I mean, is Kathy more reliable because she tells us Ruth has a tendency to fib? I think it is more of a reflection of our own beliefs that OUR memories are accurate. Kathy engages in, much the same way as Magnani does with Pontito, a reconstruction of Hailsham itself, walking us through her small idyllic world by the articulation of her qualia, and the subjective experience she relates to objects in her collection.

Most odd to me though, is that despite all the memories we are shown through her narrative, her narrative is very clearly not invested in discussing the deeper goings on of herself. For instance, why do we learn that Kathy has been flipping through pages of porn to find her "model" from Tommy? There is a consistent and undeniable quality of the importance of what's unspoken that she equates through implication with being a defining characteristic of her fellow clones. There is also a constant "fronting" going on that poor old Tommy never seems to pay attention to (or perhaps care for) - that which is told and that which is meant, which these poor souls have learned from their instructors. These elements contribute to the themes of misrepresentation, misinformation and misspeaking and the importance of reading in between the lines that is part of being from such a small community, but taken a bit further - it defines a new sect of society that is bred to die and considered non-human. Kathy's obsession moves from rememberance to the reveal of the real world, devalueing her nostalgia piece by piece until the very heart is broken, the wonder and art clouded and grayed out by the sharp and present storm of clarity.