The Remains of the Day

Standing Bear Farm has an open library. I've stayed up far too late reading The Remains of the Day by Ishiguro. It's a brilliant novel, one of the best I've read in recent memory.

Unfortunately, since I've been a reading glutton, I now need to choose among A Canticle for Leibowitz (which I've read too many times), a Stephen King book about a little girl lost on the AT and pursued by horrible monsters, or any number of romantic novels. I think the King novel will test my nerve.

EDIT, 2 DAYS LATER

SPOILER WARNING

After thinking about the novel for a few days on the trail, I still am convinced that the novel is a beautiful book, but I am increasingly convinced that it is an immoral one. Every step of the way Stephens could have made a difference in what turned out to be the Death of the West. He could have but he didn't, and he has the nerve to warm his toes in the light of the pier lamps at the end of the book, imagining that he's had a life well done. Hogwash!. "Remains of the Day" indeed. Guess what Jeevesie those pier lamps are Europe burning, and it's burning because you and everyone like you let it happen. Burn in hell you spineless bastard.

I think Ishiguro is aware of this element in his work, to some extent, but is more of the opinion that we should let these bad judgements slide off like sulfuric acid off a duck's back. It's a bad message for a vital culture. It's a message for old ladies.

When we mess up, we should agonize about it. We should torture ourselves with it until we figure out a way to make it better. That is moral. That is the message for a vital, living culture.

Still a darn tootin good book though, even though the moral is for old ladies.