Love in the time of obsolescence
Two weeks ago, I received a message: “You must read this.” It was followed by a picture of the cover of Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro. The message was from my high school English Literature teacher (who is now, happily, a friend). When she recommends a book, I know I’ve got to pay attention because it’s going to be worth it. Two weeks later, I’m glad I did.
Having never read Ishiguro before, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew him as a Nobel laureate but nothing beyond that title and its airs. Experiencing Ishiguro through Klara and the Sun was like sitting down to dinner with someone famous and learning they’re entirely human, just like you.
Klara and the Sun is set in the near future, in a dystopian world where machine intelligence has rendered many humans obsolete. It’s a fiercely competitive world (even by our contemporary hyper-aggressive standards), where being too human is a hinderance, and a near-catastrophic one at that. In this hyper-competitive world, parents can choose to genetically modify their children for higher intellectual capabilities but at a grave risk. These children are called ‘lifted’ and run the risk of fatal health issues that can cost them their lives. Another key element of this brave new world is the AF, or Artificial Friend. AFs are automatons engineered to behave like humans. They have the ability to think for themselves and crucially for the book, to feel. AFs have been designed to be companions for lifted children, who live isolated lives owing to the fact that they don’t go to regular schools and have social interactions the way we know them. Clearly visible here is a key theme of the book; Ishiguro seems to say, “Times may change but human nature doesn’t.” Lifted children, for all their intellectual gifts, still need companionship and the AFs are the answer to the problem of their social isolation.
When we meet Klara, it’s as a new AF in a store, waiting to be bought or rather, ‘chosen,.’ The store has a female manager who is a quasi-motherly figure for the AFs. Klara refers to her simply as ‘Manager.’ Manager gives Klara, and the other AFs, insights into how the world works, how human beings operate, how the AFs should behave, and so on but does so in a gentle, nurturing way. Klara and the other AFs run on solar power. But that’s where Klara’s similarity to the other AFs ends. Klara is different because of her special ability for making observations. An example of this is found when Klara and her AF friend Rosa have been placed in the store window display. Rosa stares blankly on at the streetscape in front of her, as would be expected of a robot, while Klara takes in all the life happening just beyond her reach and makes observations about what things could mean below their surface appearance, like a scuba diver taking notes on the hidden life of coral reefs. Not a part of the dance but able to feel the music.
It is on one such day while Klara is on display in the storefront that she first encounters her future owner, Josie. Their first interaction, though limited by the glass dividing them, leaves an indelible impression on both Klara and Josie. Klara is able to decipher that Josie has a vulnerability just by watching her gait. Josie makes Klara a promise that she will return for her, a promise Manager warns Klara against taking seriously: “Children make promises all the time. They come to the window, they promise all kind sof things. They promise to come back, they ask you not to let anyone else take you away. It happens all the time. But more often than not, the child never comes back.”
Klara hears the advice but in her heart - if a robot can have such a thing - vows to wait for Josie. Her patience is rewarded when some time later Josie returns with her mother and chooses Klara.
The story is told from the first-person perspective of Klara- a gentle voice with the innocence and honesty of a child. Through Klara, Ishiguro creates a mouthpiece for the child within us all; that yearning to learn about the world we live in, about other people.
In her new home, Klara has to acclimate not just to Josie but also to Mother and Melania Housekeeper. Josie and Klara develop a strong bond almost instantaneously, perhaps because each can see that the other is in some way vulnerable. Klara learns that Josie has a serious illness, as a result of Mother choosing to make Josie a ‘lifted’ child. Here Ishiguro is commenting on parental duty versus parental love. How far should a parent go to ensure that their child has the best possible chance at a successful life? The obvious answer seems to be “as far as they possibly can,” but what if it came at the cost of endangering that very child who they love so dearly? The themes of love and duty run deep in the book, surfacing in the relationships between Klara and Josie, Josie and Mother, and Josie’s best friend and neighbor Rick, who is ‘unlifted’ yet brilliant by our standards.
Rick and Josie love each other and have plans for the future. Those plans hinge on two crucial factors: Rick getting accepted into a good college and Josie being in good health, both of which seem unlikely since Rick is ‘unlifted’ and Josie is seriously ill.
However, Klara, with her unwavering devotion to Josie and Josie’s wellbeing, devises a plan that would make Josie’s hopes a reality. From the outset, Klara feels a special affinity with the sun, calling the sun kind and generous. She believes the sun nourishes people and has special powers. Here, one feels Ishiguro is creating a parallel between the robot’s relationship with the sun to the human relationship with God. One can’t help but walk away from the book feeling like Ishiguro is commenting on how when we are hopeless we turn to a higher power, which is exactly what Klara does and what makes her so human. It’s interesting to note that none of the other characters in the book ever make a reference to a divine power. It is only through Klara that we catch glimpses of divine connection and belief in a greater power. Interesting that the robot feels what is universally a deep-seated human motif, and that this behavior is not displayed by any of the actual humans in the book.
Spirituality is in this way is a leitmotif of the book. Klara beseeches the sun to heal Josie and is willing to make something akin to a blood sacrifice in order to have the sun grant Josie special attention.
It is curious that a robot too would have the need to believe in a higher being. Interesting that Ishiguro frames the narrative in a way that leaves one with the impression that the perennial question is the one to do with what we believe in.
The adults in the book believe in science and technology. The robot believes in her Sun-God.
As the story unfolds we discover poignant facts about Mother- such as her having already lost a daughter to the illness that Josie has, yet having the ‘courage’ (if we can call it that) to make Josie ‘lifted.’
Loneliness is another theme Ishiguro tackles beautifully through the book. The fear of loneliness is one that cuts across all superficial divides, uniting us as one body of humans sharing a common fear regardless of class or creed. The fear of loneliness is what propels us into relationships, Ishiguro argues, reminding me of Aristotle’s “Only God and beast enjoy isolation.” Josie’s fear of isolation led her to Klara. Mother’s fear of isolation leads her to go to unexpected lengths that Ishiguro unfolds masterfully as the book wears on.
The book is a commentary on love and duty being two sides of the same coin. In many ways in fact, duty is the other name of love in the universe of the book. Klara’s sense of duty towards Josie is nothing short of love for who she takes to be her friend. Mother’s sense of duty manifests as her juggling a hectic work life with constantly caring for Josie. Josie’s sense of duty towards mother comes from her trying her very best to be healthy.
The story that unfolds is a riveting one. I’m cautious not to give any spoilers. However, I will reveal a final theme of the book: Memories. Towards the end of the book, when Klara reconnects with Manager she tells her “I have my memories to go through and place in the right order.”
We spend an inordinate amount of time with our memories, Ishiguro seems to be saying. Memories can be beautiful but always have an air of pain about them because the moment we are remembering is dead. However, our memories add colour to our lives, reminding us of victories and defeats, laughter and tears, private joys and indescribable bliss.
As I ended the book I was reminded of a quote from An Affair to Remember: “Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories.” In the world of Klara and the Sun, where the sun shines bright, there are no cold winters, only happy memories.