She Reads Guest Post: Book Club Blogger Melissa Hambrick onNever Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

I don’t know how it is where you are, but here in Tennessee we are just on the fringes between summer and fall. The days are warm and pleasant, and in the evenings it is time to slip on a jacket. Just perfect for our book club to gather on the screened porch and feel the soft early fall air, sit with our feet tucked beneath us and talk books.

This month’s book was one of those books—you either loved it or you hated it. It was a little slow to get into, and the story was very internal. But the prose was beautiful and the concept was thought-provoking. And being one of those books—we had quite a lengthy and involved discussion. Those are always the books that get us going!

Never Let Me Go is a dystopian novel by Japanese author Kazuo Ishiguro, who also wrote The Remains of the Day. It released in 2005 and was incredibly well received—in fact TIME magazine named it the best novel of the year—and it was made into a film (starring everyone’s favorite pirate girl Kiera Knightley) in 2010. We were going to watch the movie as well, but since Redbox only has new releases...you know sometimes you don’t realize how much you miss a good old corner video store.

Although this novel fits into the science fiction genre because of its plot, the setting is actually quite pastoral, taking place in East Sussex, England. Hailsham is a boarding school there, and as we come to realize, its students are quite unusual: they are clones.

At some point in what we understand to be recent history, it has become permissible and nearly an industry unto itself to breed human clones. These clones are raised separately from natural humans by Guardians (teachers), and are raised to an age (around 18) when they either become Donors, who may donate various organs potentially more than four times, or become Carers, who literally care for these donors during the process. Carers will also eventually become donors themselves. Once they donate as many times as possible, they die, which is referred to as Completion.

Ishiguro’s novel takes us into the mind of Kathy, a clone who has been a Carer for 12 years—a remarkable span of time for this duty. Written entirely from her perspective, it jumps about a bit, just as it would if she were talking with you and telling you the story. To me, it was like a fictional memoir—very personal, internal, and with many assumptions about other characters which came only from her perspective. Although she refers to hear early childhood occasionally, she primarily narrates her teenage years through to her time as a Carer, which takes the reader into a lot of complex emotions and relationships with her fellow students as they are educated at Hailsham, through a strange existence surrounded by questions. The students themselves fill in a lot of blanks with their imaginations, creating rumors that are accepted as fact because they’ve been passed about for so long.

A great deal of time is spent on the art they are encouraged to create—paintings, sketches, poetry. They don’t completely know why, but to them it is a great honor to have your work chosen by one of the Guardians for The Gallery. And, they don’t really know what The Gallery is either—they just know they want to have their work in it. Ultimately we find out that The Gallery is a way for the Guardians to try and convince others that these clones do, in fact, have souls. Think about that—what would it mean if you had to create art, in its most commonly accepted forms, to prove that you had a soul, as if it is somehow a reflection of your being?

Caring, Donation, Completion—they are all simply what these students have been created for, and they seem to accept their fate, perhaps the way many oppressed cultures still do today. It isn’t only history; as Ishiguro writes, unfortunately oppression is still part of our future. We thought of women in male dominated societies, where tradition or religion keep them in submissive roles. Escape is not really a concept, although they dream of having their destiny deferred so that they can do things like be in love, or work in an office. Not so far off from some headlines you may have read recently? It reminded me of A Dream Deferred, a poem by Harlem Renaissance poet Langston Hughes (see below). Although they are kept away from society, told they are created for one purpose alone and for the most part, accept that purpose—perhaps it is their dreams, not their art, that reveal them as fully and deeply part of the human experience.

There are moments in which I connected with the characters in Never Let Me Go, thinking of what it is like to be a parent. We do our best to give our children purpose, to teach them—but we, like the Guardians, sometimes only show them part of the world. We skew their vision with our own, and sometimes we keep the truth from them for their own good. Yet we see ourselves in them as well. And like the students, we are created as parents to give ourselves away to our children. We give them little bits of ourselves—our love, our hearts, our passions, perhaps sometimes our frustrations, or even our paychecks. And we know—we accept—that this is our duty, until completion. Sometimes the arrival of our children defers our dreams; other times, our children are the fulfillment of them.

I have a feeling that this male, Japanese author probably didn’t have this in mind when he wrote it. But then again, I maintain that we all find bits and pieces to relate to in literature, and find things that are deeply personal and meaningful and that reflect the human journey, no matter what the story. You might think dystopian science fiction isn’t for you, but you might need to think again—because you never know what will move you.

A Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Today's post comes from Melissa Hambrick, our book club contributor from our sister blog She Reads. This is the writer's opportunity to listen in on what is important to a book club, what gets readers hooked, keeps the reading, or turns them off. Enjoy!

A fine mist still blanketed the land in the early hours of that morning. A nearly palpable wave of bittersweet excitement passed over the group that had gathered, as last hugs and kisses were bestowed. Six women waved goodbye to their children, to their husbands, and climbed into the enormous vehicle that would take them away. The men exchanged uneasy laughter, the children running amongst them, still in pajamas. Four days. For some, those days would be long; for others, much too short. The doors closed, and an audible sigh escaped the lips of each of the six contained inside.

Bliss. Absolute bliss. Six moms, one Suburban and four days on the Gulf in Florida. The only rule was no McDonald’s; the only decisions were pool or beach, white or red? T his was our first ever book club girls’ getaway, and specifically a dream I’d had since walking into Sundog Books in Seaside, FL , a little over a year ago. After walking into this wonderful little bookstore in May of last year, I looked at my husband and said, “This is what I want for my 40th birthday. No party. I just want to come back here with my book club.”

So we celebrated for four days. We read. And talked. And sunbathed. And ate dark chocolate covered almonds for breakfast. Sometimes dreams do come true, even if you aren’t a Disney princess.

This month we had two books on our docket. W e chose State of Wonder by Ann Patchett as our regular monthly pick, but since we had an extra half a month in there before our trip, we also selected Before I Go to Sleep by first-time novelist SJ Watson. Two very different, but equally exciting and enjoyable reads.
If you haven’t yet read Nashville-based author Ann Patchett, you’re missing out. Put her on your ‘to read’ list, especially this one and her accla imed work Bel Canto. Those of you near us here in Nashville may have heard that she is actually opening an independent bookstore here at the end of the year, dubbed Parnassus Books. The demise of Borders, as well as our favorite indie bookstore Davis-Kidd Booksellers, has left our area lacking, and there’s no doubt that Patchett will come through for us bibliophiles with flying colors.

Sta te of Wonder actually owes some plot points to another well-known novella, Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, but Patchett’s literary talents give the tale a whole new dimension. She also adds a decidedly feminist slant to the story, as well as more than a few twists, turns and subplots that leave the reader in awe by the end of the book. One of our bookies hadn’t yet had the chance to read it, and another clubber attempted to describe the story. But there was just no simple way to tell the plot, and we realized how Patchett had managed to seamlessly tell an amazingly complex story.
Marina Singh is a doctor working for a pharmaceutical company which is doing research in the Amazon. But the doctor in charge of this research, the nearly mythological Dr. Annika Swenson, has ceased communication. A turn of events leads Marina to the jungle to find out what has happened to Dr. Swenson, colleague Anders Eckman, and the research that has been nearly a decade in the making with no results. We all agreed that the beginning of State of Wonder was a bit slow, but as soon as Marina arrives in this foreign land, the layered plot builds and builds into an intricate, thoughtful and suspenseful novel.

We were all fascinated by Dr. Swenson, an artful piece of writing that has created a stunning character, thought-provoking and memorable. Easter is another precious character, and a powerful thread who ties the story together. We loved this book—but past that, I can’t tell you much more because there would just be too many spoilers.
And for a change of pace, we read a thriller—a suspenseful novel where not only do we as readers not know what is going on, neither does the main character. What would you do if you woke up one morning and found out that you had lost 25 years of your life? You couldn’t trust your memories, and maybe not even your husband, who you don’t recognize. You don’t remember your own child. In fact, every day when you wake up, you don’t remember the day before. (Interestingly, the author did not know about the Drew Barrymore/ Adam Sandler film 50 First Dates, but the daily amnesia is really the only plot similarity.)

SJ Watson (who most of our club totally thought was a wom an until we went to his blog, has created a fascinating first novel with Before I Go to Sleep, which has landed in the top ten of the New York Times bestseller list and is finding international acclaim. Watson’s main character, Christine, wakes up every day with no memory of the last, and only the journal she is keeping (and keeping secret from her husband, Ben) to remind her of who she is. She is able to unravel her past bit by bit, but we are always left wondering who to trust. The opening words in her journal proclaim “Don’t trust Ben.” But can we trust Christine?

Before I Go to Sleep kept us hanging on every page—a true testament to the author’s storytelling ability when you realize that with nearly every chapter, he has to retell Christine’s story, as she wakes up with no memory and has to rediscover it, yet again. As all of the details come together, it is surprising to find out exactly who she could trust—and in the end, the reader is left to decide: When Christine wakes up tomorrow, will she remember that this all happened?
As for us six ladies, we are thankful for our memories—especially those that we made together, sitting in the sun in Florida, and doubly so, now that school is starting, sport seasons are starting back up, and the “lazy” days of summer are drawing to a close. And you’d better bet that we’re already planning a trip back next year…if we can just hang on to our happy place until then!

She Reads Guest Post: Book Club Blogger Melissa Hambrick on Shelter Me by Juliette Fay

Today's post is from the newest member of the She Reads team. We're happy to welcome her as a guest on Novel Matters. It's incredibly interesting for writers to be allowed to "sit in" with a book club as they discuss novels through the lens of real life.

Although still debating what she wants to be when she grows up, SheReads book club columnist Melissa Hambrick is a former entertainment industry PR exec, a full-time stay-at-home mom of two boys and a part-time volunteer for any school function that she didn’t scrunch down in her seat far enough to avoid. Having written for numerous publications, including Home Life and Today’s Christian Woman, and with chapter one of what is sure to be a bestselling novel stored in her laptop for the last year and a half, she blogs at WordMom.com less frequently than she probably should. Her book club, which she lovingly dubs ‘overachievers anonymous,’ actually has a strange preference for books they don’t really love, which they find leads to much more interesting conversation.

Tonight’s Book: Shelter Me by Juliette Fay

Tonight’s Menu:
Pasta Fagioli Soup*
Crusty bread
Chicken Salad
Fresh Fruit
Strawberry Shortcake

Sigh. At 4 p.m., the Sunday night of our book club, our telephone rang. My husband’s best friend had gone out for a run that morning, had a heart attack, and died. At the age of 41.

My husband and I were both rocked to the core. They’d just had lunch together 48 hours ago at a Chinese buffet. Neither of us completely believed it—and I’m not sure that even after the funeral—a Catholic high mass—we get it either. The service seemed so formal and so far removed from the Kansas Jayhawks-loving Southern boy with the dry wit that we knew, it was tough to reconcile the little pewter urn on the altar with this man who was so full of life.

My husband went for a drive—“Carefully!” I called out to him as he left the house. And when he came back, he insisted I go ahead to book club. It was so hard, leaving to be with my group of women who share and support each other, knowing that his best guy friend was gone. And you know how guys are with friends—they don’t usually have a big circle that chats and keeps up with what’s going on, unless it is the standings in their fantasy football league.

So eight of us girls got together over comfort food—an amazing Italian soup, crusty bread, chicken salad and strawberry shortcake—to talk books, life and death. The evening couldn’t have been more comforting if we were all sitting around in our Snuggies, which, actually, might not be a bad idea.

Juliette Fay gives a brilliant glimpse into the life of Janie, a young mother of an infant daughter (still nursing) and a preschool son, whose husband has just died in an accident. In the author insights and extras provided with my copy of Shelter Me, Fay says:

“The story of Shelter Me has been in my head for a long time, in various forms. I think its first cell-divisions began when I got married. I had never loved anyone the way I loved my new husband, and had never felt so loved. I became quietly, privately terrified of losing him. I wonder if everyone doesn’t have these thoughts at some point. You love someone—your spouse, children, best friend, aunt, dog—so much, you know that if anything happens to them, you might not be able to put one foot in front of the other anymore. Nothing would make sense. You’d forget how to do simple things like make toast or swallow.
Then we started having children and I thought, “Okay, now I’m really in trouble.” Not only did I worry that something might happen to them, I still had the fear of losing my husband, and I now had to worry on my kids’ behalf about losing their father. Making up stories about how I would manage was a way for me to process my own fear.”

So, the good news is that for those other anxiety ridden folks like me (and quite a few of the girls in book club)—yes, you are apparently normal. One clubber calls it “going from 0 to 60 in ten seconds or less.” On 9/11, a dear friend of hers lost her husband in the Trade Centers. Counseling helped her friend and their family, but this clubber says that it was if she herself had Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder—while her friend had gone through therapy and begun to heal, she’d been fighting off her own rather severe case of the “What ifs.” She does it, I do it, and I’m betting you do it, too. This is why we women seem to have a hotline to God.

Fear does crazy things to us, and so does grief. Shelter Me is the journey that Janie takes from being a widowed mom whose milk has dried up and is afraid to get out of bed, back into real life.

It’s like that moment you slam your finger in a door and it hurts so bad, and happens so fast, that you say something that unfortunately the two-year-old decides to parrot for the next week. Except losing your husband—that’s like slamming your finger in a door, every day, every minute.

I will concede that while we all enjoyed Shelter Me, it was not my personal favorite. It had a tendency to dangle its toes into Lifetime Movie waters a bit with her relationships with men—too convenient, too dramatic in one instance, too hunk-with-a-heart-of-gold-clad-in-plaid-flannel-and-tight-jeans in another. For some reason Valerie Bertinelli and Aiden Quinn keep coming to mind.

We loved her relationships with the other women in her life, especially given her mother’s reluctance to return and plug back in to a family relationship, even through the tragedy. Aunt Jude is a gem—everyone needs one. Her neighbor, the new friend she discovers through her son’s preschool, even the women in her self-defense class—these are wonderful examples of how women’s relationships can be so foundational to each other.

Most of all, we loved Pology Cake. This should be mandatory in life—apologies should always be accompanied by cake. Of course her cousin Cormac helped her to pick out the exact Pology Cake for the appropriate “restorative justice,” as Fay calls it. Who knew that chocolate cake wasn’t a one-size-fits-all? One clubber mentioned that she took donuts to a friend when her dog died, to which I replied, “Of course. Nothing says, ‘I’m sorry your dog died’ like a box of Krispy Kremes.”

Losing someone is painful and no amount of “what iffing” is going to prepare anyone for it. Fay reminds us that the process is debilitatingly ugly and refining, with glimpses of beauty and a promise of a new beginning.

Our friend is gone. I drive down the road, thinking, He’s not here. He’s not on this earth anymore. How can that be? But I find pleasure that he got to laugh at the fact that Tennessee had yet another snow day for only one inch of snow. And that while his nieces and nephews won’t have their uncle’s hand to hold, he’s sure to still be at every baseball game. And I somehow think that he’s having the heavenly equivalent of chicken wings and watching the Jayhawks play basketball.

Questions for Discussion:

1. Have you ever mentally put yourself in Janie’s place? How do you combat those overwhelming “What if” feelings?

2. Do you have a version of Pology Cake? How have you restored yourself with someone when you realize you have messed up?

3. What did you think about Janie’s relationship with Jake? Was it inevitable?

4. Dylan spends a good deal of time in this book wearing goggles. Why?

5. We thought Janie’s mom felt like she had “put in her time” and now it was her time to do what she wanted. How do you feel about the relationship between Janie and her mom? Do you think her mom was selfish, or just unable to be who Janie needed her to be?

6. What symbolism did you see in the porch that her husband commissioned before his death being built, and all of the unknown little things that kept being fixed along the way?


Pasta Fagioli Soup *adapted from Family Circle Magazine (which added Kale and 2 cans white beans, instead of one)

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 onion, diced

3 cloves garlic, chopped

1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes with basil, garlic and oregano

2 cans (14.5 oz each) chicken broth

8 oz small pasta shells

1 teaspoon Italian seasoning

1 can small white beans, drained and rinsed

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

Fresh shredded parmesan, for serving

1. Heat oil in lg. pot over med. heat. Add onion, and cook 5 min. Add garlic, cook 1 min.

2. Stir in tomatoes, broth and 3 cups water. Bring to simmer over high heat. Add pasta and Italian seasoning. Cook, stirring 5 min.

3. Reduce heat to medium and stir in beans, tomato paste, salt and pepper. Heat through.

4. Ladle into bowls; garnish with Parmesan.