The Buried Giant, by Kazuo Ishiguro

In Kazuo Ishiguro’s long-awaited seventh novel, The Buried Giant he once again defies reader expectations by venturing into new territory.  The Buried Giant, labeled by some as “fantasy” fiction, is nothing like Ishiguro’s previous works.  Fans of Remains of the Day will be pleasantly surprised to find his newest novel to be nothing like that modern classic, yet equally compelling.  The novel opens on what appears to be, at first glance, a typical medieval village, where two of its oldest inhabitants have grown increasingly anxious to set out on a journey to visit their son.  It soon becomes clear, however, that something insidious is afoot, as the villagers seem to easily forget matters that aren’t immediately at hand: missing children, quarrels, former neighbors.  In fact, the old couple can hardly remember what it was that drew their son away from his ancestral village.  Was it a quarrel, something they said?  Despite this fog that seems to cloud their memories, making their past together (both good and ill) seem hazy, they are determined to seek out their son.  This journey begins to take on the flavor of a quest as they meet not one, but two brave knights, encounter a mysterious boatman, malicious pixies, ogres, and at first avoid, then later seek out a dragon’s lair.  This is a beautifully written novel that shouldn’t be genre-bound.  Fantasy enthusiasts and literary connoisseurs alike will be equally drawn in by this page turner.  In fact, I think I will blame a recent sunburn on its potential to make one’s own surroundings fall quickly and solidly away.