Little resentment between Saxons and Britons survives, because the terrible, bloody deeds of the past have been buried under a layer of collective forgetting. People’s memories dissolve into a fog after weeks, days, or even hours they live in a content, yet ultimately hollow, state. A wary peace prevails, yet it is a false one built largely upon the mist of forgetfulness that hangs over the land. In this England, the reign of King Arthur has recently come to an end, and along with it the violence between Britons and Saxons. The novel is set in a semi-historical, semi-mythical English landscape where ogres roam freely, pixies and sprites wreak mischief, and a she-dragon named Querig hides out in the highlands. Memory and its various offspring-revenge, forgiveness, prejudice, hatred-lie at the heart of Kazuo Ishiguro’s latest novel, “The Buried Giant.” Although at times tiresome in its stilted dialogue and simplistic characters, “The Buried Giant” is nonetheless a moving parable of remembrance, loss, and the resilience of love.įrom the first page of “The Buried Giant,” Ishiguro’s ability to build vivid, self-contained landscapes is clear. They can haunt in times of happiness and fortify in times of despair they return over and over again when they are unwelcome, yet they often prove elusive when they are searched for the hardest.
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