Of all the Ishiguro I’ve read, this one reminds me the most of The Remains of the Day. There’s a lot not said in any given scene. A lot of awkward silence or lies, really, to cover up whatever is really being felt.

There’s also a lot here about the place of women in postwar Japan. It’s complicated because it’s tied up in tradition and other changes postwar.

The story moves between two timelines. There’s a cyclical aspect to what’s happening in the past and the present which I appreciate. I think Etsuko starts to appreciate tradition or at least miss Japan and wonder if she made the right choice by the end.

Really well crafted overall. The ending felt a little abrupt, and sometimes it dragged even for a short book. But really interesting themes handled delicately.

I think there’s more going on here than I was picking up on - something about that rope Mariko noticed was bugging me. So I think there’s some major twistiness to this if you want to go there.