Staff Review: The Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguro

In sixth century England, a mist covers the land that clouds the past, leaving people with only their immediate memories. The Buried Giant, by the 2017 Nobel Prize winning author Kazuo Ishiguro, opens up with a distant landscape of rolling green hills, hazy skies, and humble dwellings. In this medieval village, we meet our protagonists, Axl and Beatrice. When they seem to have a faint memory of being parents, their quest to find their adult son drives the narrative.

A Saxon warrior and his apprentice escort the aging Briton couple as they travel through an England in which Britons recently made peace with nearby Saxon villages, though mistrust and danger are ever present. We encounter old enemies of the Saxons, Monks who may not be who they appear, and a few mythical beasts along the way—though the most looming threat may be what lies behind the mist.

As their journey is on foot, the story moves at a similar pace. Someone looking for high action may abort at this point. Although there are parts with action and suspense, they burn slowly. Someone interested in an atmospheric story full of symbolism and rooted in English lore may proceed. I felt I was walking with the characters—I suppose partly because I was walking while listening to the story—but also because the descriptive text and repetitive dialog had a certain rhythm I found immersive. The resonant voice of the audiobook narrator, David Horovitch, and his skill with dialects certainly played its part in pulling me in as well.

The repetition may be irksome to some. Axl constantly addresses his wife as Princess, which may be cute at first, but happens about every time he speaks to her. There’s also a key character Sir Guwayne, from English lore. How many times can he remind the characters that he fought by King Arthur’s side? The answer is, a lot. With all the repetition and little back-story, some may find the characters flat. Usually, I prefer complex characters, but Ishiguro has a way of revealing complexity by withholding details. The repetitive rhythm and the present-tense characters make them anybody, the stuff of myths. The repetition also has the eerie quality of mirroring our own behavior.

The moral questions the book raises are fascinating and perennial giving it the feel of a modern myth. Must we bury the past to make peace in the present? Or do we bravely bring the past to light and seek clarity to heal old wounds? Is our conception of self made from internally repetitive myths? These questions make the book one to ponder long after the last page.

~Ben, Adult Services