Klara and the Sun
Kazuo Ishiguro has a knack for digging deep into what makes us human. In this book, he uses Klara an AF (Artificial Friend) to create a layered narrative on what a sentient AI could tell us about ourselves.
Kazuo Ishiguro has a knack for digging deep into what makes us human. In this book, he uses Klara an AF (Artificial Friend) to create a layered narrative on what a sentient AI could tell us about ourselves.
To describe the book, I’d apply the author’s own words, which he used for Manhattan – ‘you wanted to approach it for the rest of your life without ever quite arriving.’ Through a flashback triggered by a photograph, we see the journey of a woman, the society she was part of, and the different shades of Manhattan. A vivid, glorious, and poignant ride.
This is a radically different style of #scifi from what I have read so far. What sets it apart is the underlying ideas and philosophy, and the sociopolitical commentary. When you consider the background machinations of #scifi publishing in the 60s and 70s, it is a little distressing, especially since it also reveals a few clay feet.
99% of the world’s population gets wiped out by the Georgia Flu. After 2020, this doesn’t seem very far-fetched. 20 years after the event, we see glimpses of the past, present and future from the perspective of a roaming band of performers whose motto is “Survival is insufficient”. I found it a poignant read.
As the title suggests, the book is a collection of 28 works – some prose and some poetry, from India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. I liked the premise of quite a few, but in many cases, it didn’t fulfil the promise. If you have a deep interest in science/speculative fiction from this region, go for it.