Skip to main content

The Buried Giant


Book Review

Memories play a vital role in human life.  It is also necessary to forget many things because some memories may be a painful burden.  Kazuo Ishiguro’s latest novel, The Buried Giant, is about memories.

Axl and Beatrice, an elderly couple, set out in search of their son.  They don’t remember why their son left them.  In fact, their memories about many things are vague.  It is because of a magic that King Arthur’s beloved magician, Merlin, had performed in order to bring peace among the Britons and the Saxons.

The novel is set in those days when the Romans had left Britannia and the Saxons came in to take their place.  King Arthur is no more but his nephew, Sir Gawain, is alive though very old.  Axl and Beatrice will encounter Sir Gawain on their way.  Two other persons who join them are Wistan and Edwin.  Wistan is a Saxon warrior who hates Britons.  His mission is to kill the dragon Querig who is as wise as she is wicked.  Sir Gawain’s mission is to protect the dragon because it is through her breath that Merlin’s magic continues to work.  The monks in the monastery where Axl and Beatrice take shelter on their way to their son’s village are also defenders of the dragon.  Edwin is a young boy in search of his mother.

The plot brings together more fantasy and myths than history and reality.  Yet it raises penetrating questions about real life.  One of the monks in the monastery asks Beatrice whether she really wants the mist of forgetfulness to clear, the mist that Merlin’s magic has brought about.  “Is it not better some things remain hidden from our minds?”  The monk’s question is the central question of the novel.  Finally, when Wistan succeeds in his mission and the mist clears, Axl wonders: “You and I longed for Querig’s end, thinking only of our own dear memories.  Yet who knows what old hatreds will loosen across the land now?”

Life is never a crystal-clear affair.  There is no pure love.  Our kindness is tinged with suspicion or even cruelty.  There are traces of vengeance in our forgiveness. Justice hardly exists in human affairs.  Even the God of the monks is an unjust god who is ready to forget the foulest sins by drawing a veil of penance over them.  In Wistan’s words, “Your Christian god of mercy gives men licence to pursue their greed, their lust for land and blood, knowing a few prayers and a little penance will bring forgiveness and blessing.”

The monks themselves are a dubious lot.  They are not as kind as they appear.  Sir Gawain explains to Axl and Beatrice that “As men of Christ, it’s beyond them to use a sword or even poison.”  So they use devious methods to kill those whom they consider as enemies. 

Axl and Beatrice, the central characters, are a very loving couple.  They can’t even think of living apart for a moment.  Yet is their love purer than any other human love?  Can they be holier than the monks? 

Querig, the dragon, can be killed.  But what about the giant within us?  That is what the novel explores. 

It is a beautiful narrative that takes over the reader entirely from the beginning.  We immerse ourselves into it.  But every now and then the mythical creatures appear reminding us that we are in a fantasy land.  The novel is a unique experience.  For those who enjoy rare, unique experiences and don’t expect life to be a neat system of rights and wrongs fairly balanced or rewarded, this novel is highly recommended. 




Comments

  1. Thanks for the recommendation. I'd like to ponder over it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. An interesting review of an apparantly interesting book...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Glad you found the review interesting. The books is far more interesting provided, as I have said in the review, you have an inclination toward the out-of-box kind of stuff.

      Delete
  3. I am becoming an ardent admirer of him. I read 'The remains of the day' recently and was blown away by its sheer brilliance. Thank you so much for the recommendation.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Glad to come across a fan of Ishiguro. The fact is this is the first of his that I've read. I would like to try out the others.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Teaching is a Relationship

I met Ms Dhanya Ramachandran a few years ago at one of the centralised evaluation camps of CBSE. Then we met again every year for the same purpose until I retired from teaching officially. I’m not sure whether it’s her Mona Lisa smile or her commendable efficiency with the job that drew my attention more to her. Last week I came to know that Dhanya (let me take the liberty of calling her so) received an award for her contributions to the cause of education. I wished to bring her to a wider audience for the cause of education and hence requested an interview. What follows is the result. Since it is an email interview, it has its limitations. Nevertheless, Dhanya comes alive here. Over to the interview.  Tomichan : Hi Ms Dhanya Ramachandran, please introduce yourself for the sake of the readers of this blog. Dhanya : Hello. I am Dhanya Ramachandran, a passionate educator with diverse background. My career journey began in journalism, but life took me on a different path, leading

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl

Nishagandhi – Queen of the Night

Disclaimer: A friend tells me this flower is Kalyana Saugandhikam (garland lily) and not Nishagandhi.  Finally one of my Nishagandhis has bloomed. Here’s the picture.  I have four pots of this plant which is quite exotic as its very name implies. Belonging to the Cactaceae family, this flower goes by different names. The Indian name ‘Nishagandhi’ comes from two Sanskrit words: nisha = night & gandh: fragrance. This flower blooms in the night and wilts as dawn breaks. I took the above pic just before sunrise this morning. I have waited for nearly half a year now for this blossoming. It’s not easy to get these flowers which have a divine touch. It is known as Brahma Kamala, Bethlehem Lily, and the flower of healing. The Chinese consider the Nishagandhi flower to be lucky. I consider it as cosmic flower. The Nishagandhi has many medicinal properties. Ayurveda uses it for treating diabetes, breathing disorders, throat infections, digestive problems, and so on. Of course, I don’t

Why do you fear my way so much?

Book Review Title: Why do you fear my way so much? Author: G N Saibaba Publisher: Speaking Tiger, New Delhi, 2022 Pages: 216 G N Saibaba breathed his last on 12 Oct 2024 at the age of 57. It may be more correct to say that he was killed by the government of his country just as Rev Stan Swamy and a lot many others were. Stan Swamy was an octogenarian, suffering from severe Parkinson’s disease and other ailments, when he was arrested under the draconian UAPA. He died in prison at the age of 84 labelled by his government as a traitor. G N Saibaba was a professor of English in Delhi University when he was arrested in 2014 under UAPA for alleged links with treasonous Maoist groups. Polio had rendered him absolutely incapable of free movement right from childhood. The prison authorities deprived him even of his wheelchair, making life incredibly brutal for him in the Anda cell of Nagpur Central Prison. The egg-shaped cell (‘anda’ means egg in India’s putative national language) i

Octlantis

I was reading an essay on octopuses when friend John walked in. When he is bored of his usual activities – babysitting and gardening – he would come over. Politics was the favourite concern of our conversations. We discussed politics so earnestly that any observer might think that we were running the world through the politicians quite like the gods running it through their devotees. “Octopuses are quite queer creatures,” I said. The essay I was reading had got all my attention. Moreover, I was getting bored of politics which is irredeemable anyway. “They have too many brains and a lot of hearts.” “That’s queer indeed,” John agreed. “Each arm has a mind of its own. Two-thirds of an octopus’s neurons are found in their arms. The arms can taste, touch, feel and act on their own without any input from the brain.” “They are quite like our politicians,” John observed. Everything is linked to politics in John’s mind. I was impressed with his analogy, however. “Perhaps, you’re r