Ishiguro has such a knack for insight and for asking big questions, and this was no exception. Like all of his books you have to go in trusting that information will be revealed and the story will slowly open up to you in profound and moving ways. This is a book that defies genres and tackles a lot of the same themes as Never Let Me Go, but at a much different angle. Additionally, Ishiguro has a true gift for creating dystopian societies that feel familiar and unsettling at the same time which create such a unique reading experience as the story grapples with huge ethical questions. Subtle and complex, overall, I loved this.

I absolutely loved this new allegorical work of Ishiguro's. It reminded me of Never Let Her Go, in that it was speculative fiction done in a manner so masterful that it transcends the genre. In a future including robots and genetic manipulation of children, Ishiguro has placed a novel that speaks of love, identity, and faith. Klara's relationship to the sun is that of a disciple to a god with whom she has a personal relationship and to whom she asks for help and offers personal sacrifice.

It took me about half way through the book before I understood the boxes in Klara's vision. At least I think I do. At first, I just thought it was a function of Klara's assimilating the various visual clues into a cohesive image, and I was happy with that explanation. That explanation fits with the way that Klara was at first unable to "see" what was in shadow. That all seems to be reasonable given that when Klara lost some of her essential fluid she again saw the world in geometric shapes and only slowly came back to seeing how those shapes comprised something more. However, near the end, I had a sort of lightbulb moment when she talks about how becoming Josie would not have been successful because who we truly are (our heart) is actually held in those who love us, not in ourselves. At that point, I started to imagine the boxes as an observational ability of Klara's, with her seeing various aspects of others (and the world) in boxes until such time as she developed a relationship with those others or with those aspects of the world.

As an AF (artificial friend) to a young teenager, Josie, Klara finds herself right in the middle of a number of ethical and spiritual conflicts. These are explored with a deft hand by Ishiguro who does not offer us any easy answers. The entire book is told from Klara's perspective, and this confuses us as we struggle to make sense of the world in the same way that Klara does. There is so much depth to the book and so many pieces left to interpretation. Ishiguro has managed to create a fully realized world as well as very real people within the context of a search for identity and meaning in a future, foreign existence.

If you are finding time to connect with friends this summer, let your heart follow gratitude on the path to curiosity about the nature of true friendship and the qualities that characterize a faithful friend. Then, compare the best you have to Kazuo Ishiguro’s Klara in his latest novel, Klara and the Sun. The question that thrummed behind my enjoyment of the book’s narrative arc is this: Was it the author’s intent to inspire us to be better at friendship? Or was he warning us about how lost we have become at the art of self-giving?

Picture a future in which parents purchase Artificial Friends (AF) to be company for their children. Then imagine that the story of a real girl’s life could be framed in the words and through the impressions of her very perceptive AF. Klara (the AF), her manner of speaking, and her frequently jarring observations of people and events are tools Ishiguro has used to lend a restrained degree of other-ness to a human girl’s story.

Never mind that the human girl has been subjected to genetic modification. The issue at stake here is whether Klara’s human really needs something or someone to combat loneliness. The interpersonal conflict and much of what drives this book’s plot is lovely, old-fashioned story telling, filtered through the interior world of a non-human who somehow ends up feeling more perceptive, more selfless, and more clear-thinking than any other character in this (perhaps unintentional?) meditation on friendship and loneliness.

Many thanks to Knopf Doubleday and NetGalley for their support in procuring copies of this book to facilitate my review, which is, of course, offered freely and with honesty.

I saw a fair amount of negative feedback on this one, but I found it very compelling and interesting. It did remind me a fair amount of "Never Let Me Go", but I did think that new themes were explored and insights revealed in Ishiguro's newest work.

Absolutely wonderful book! I was hooked from page one and loved every minute of this look into what life might be like for an AI. It is a little bit coming of age, a little bit Scifi and a little bit family relations.

Klara is an AF, an artificial friend, for sale at a local store. While being displayed in the front window, a young girl named Josie happens upon her and decides to eventually buy her. But, she warns Klara, things can be "unusual" at her house. Klara, unperturbed, heads to become Josie's constant companion.

This book has a "quiet" plot. There are no gut-wrenching plot twists, no chaotic events. It is more of a study of domestic life in a near future through the eyes of AI. Ishiguro tackles topics mostly surrounding humanity's over-reliance on technology -- AI taking jobs from people, the ethics of new technology, humanity's impact on the world and themselves with increasing industrialization.

Starting out, I didn't love the narrative voice of an AI, which was appropriately robotic. But because of Klara's unique abilities as an AF, she becomes much more human. In many ways throughout this book, Klara is more life-like than the human characters she's surrounded by. In an apt reflection of modern culture, many of the human characters are attached to their "oblongs", overlook humanity around them, and avoid any "unnecessary" human contact. Klara on the other hand is empathetic and self-sacrificing. While she is programmed to cater to Josie's needs, she is also able to understand human feelings, sometimes better than the human beings around her.

This was a quick read that made me think. It's one of those books that upon a second read, I'll realize new connections. If I do end up reading, I'm sure I'll have deeper thoughts.

At first, I thought this was going to be Toy Story: the Book, but it deepened into a story of AI and potential surrogacy. While I understood Klara, I was unclear on the Sun's role. Similar to Never Let Me Go, but a little more opaque.

Being a grad student working on AI models, I was intrigued by the premise of this one. It was interesting that the AI robots weren't servants in the traditional sense but "friends"—a sort of equal to their masters. Add in the complications of gene editing benefitting only a select few and we have a recipe for the perfect dystopian novel...

The first half of the novel was a joy to plow through. Klara's voice is half overly perceptive child and half maternal anxiety. She watches through her store's front window all the frivolities of human behavior, not passing judgment but quietly absorbing. The other main characters of Josie and her mother were fairly well-developed, though the mother was drawn with a fairly heavy hand. At times I wished for some more subtlety in conflict between the characters. What backstory did Josie's mother have that led her to be so rigid? How did Josie's relationship with Klara change over time? Did Klara have any desires of her own or was she programmed simply to serve and avoid offending her masters?

More critically, the ethical issues that were explored mostly fell flat. It was as if the author were forced to insert a hasty discussion about the "black box" nature of AI or the resentment that comes along with genetically modified humans. These ideas cropped up mainly in the second half of the book, which made it feel gimmicky and rushed. I also didn't find Klara's quest very convincing, even if it was a touching imitation of human bargaining during grief. She just never outgrew her clever, useful robot persona for me because I couldn't understand the motives behind her actions.

Pros: engaging narrative voices, intriguing premise
Cons: uneven pacing, forced discussion of ethical issues, unsatisfying plot development

Klara and the Sun has probably been one of the most reviewed books this year, and rightfully so. It has the right amount of Ishiguro mystery, subtleties, and questions. As each is revealed, each piece fits perfectly into a story that is unique and heartfelt. 

Klara is an Artificial Friend, a childlike robot meant to accompany a young girl, Josie. She has an uncanny ability to observe the emotions and interactions of others, and she spends a lot of time observing the humans around her as well as the movement of the sun. 

I found that Ishiguro is the master of restraint. He simply does not say a lot-- some events and descriptions can be vague and lead nowhere, while others loom and explode at the correct moment of reveal. I also continue to love his style of dystopia, where not everything is sinister and humanity still exists; he constantly examines humanity and how we tackle these complexities in a new and unsettling backdrop.

This book takes the reader into a dystopian future of a 14 year old and her AI friend. It examines what human-AI friendship might look like. Humans change when they interact with other humans. The narration from the point of view of an AI shows how it feels odd to experience these changing attitudes of grief, disappointment, anger etc from the human companion.
I enjoyed reading this book.

I was granted a free copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review from Netgalley. This was a good book, but much heavier of a read than I was originally expecting. I will have to read some of Ishiguro's other novels because it seems that they are critically acclaimed.

Is it science fiction? A religious allegory? A coming of age story? Of course, Ishiguro has made it seamlessly all three. Klara is an AF, Artificial Friend, capable of astute perceptions and observations of the humans and AFs around her. Solar powered, she looks to the Sun, not only for power, but also for guidance. Klara's voice comes across as robotically stilted at the same time that she conveys emotions, which adds to the power of her narration. When her human, a young teenage girl, is at death's door (apparently because of genetic engineering) Klara makes a Faustian deal with the Sun, and a miracle seems to take place. This is a bitter-sweet portrait of a not-too-distant future when artificial intelligences are an integral part of our lives.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the e-copy of this book.

Unfortunately, it's didn't quite work for me. It fell short of my expectations, especially after Ishiguro's last award-winning novel. I think the premise of children acquiring Artificial Friends is an interesting one, especially (as another reviewer put it) during this past year of social distancing and mostly virtual contact with loved ones and peers. I appreciated that it was told from the POV of the AF, as it allowed for more of a curiosity-seeking read. I think, overall, it just didn't go anywhere important or interesting, as I'd hoped.

Klara and the Sun is the newest novel by Kazuo Ishiguro, and the best description I can think of it is that it’s the newest novel by Kazuo Ishiguro. In other words, it’s very “Ishiguro”-like in its themes, its voice, its prose style and will call up memories of earlier works such as Never Let Me Go and The Remains of the Day, which I consider high praise indeed.

The setting is a near-future where most children are “lifted” (genetically enhanced for intelligence) and do all of their schooling at home. Their social life, as it exists, consists of “interaction parties” and AF’s, or Artificial Friends. Klara, our narrator, is one such AF, and though not the most recent model she is, as many come to note, remarkable. Early on she is purchased as the companion for Josie, a 14-year-old lifted girl who, its gradually revealed, is suffering from a potentially fatal illness, one whose full history is only slowly revealed.. Throughout the years between her purchase and Josie preparing for college, Klara observes Josie’s worsening health, her on-and-off relationship with the boy next door (who is not amongst the lifted), and her sometimes fraught interactions with her mother, whom she lives with, and her father, who lives on a type of commune for the “substituted” (those replaced by automation).

The themes, as noted, are similar to ones Ishiguro has investigate elsewhere: loneliness/isolation, the meaning and limits of service, the inherent pain of human existence, the meaning of life in the face of that pain, and of course, in the face of its inevitably quick passage. Familiar as they may be, the concepts are no less deserving of further exploration and Ishiguro does so here with his usual quietly elegant thoughtfulness and via a classic Ishiguro figure: one who observes from a position off to the side (or, on a social scale, lower down) and who plumbs surprising depths through relatively mundane language (though the book is not without its lyrical flourishes).

Klara as observer is emphasized from the opening line, as she tells us she and another AF for sale, “were mid-store . . . and could see through more than half of the window. So we were able to watch the outside … Unlike most AFs, unlike Rosa, I’d always longed to see more of the outside — and to see it in all its detail.” We needn’t trust Klara’s word on how unusual this is, for later, when she remarks on some of her observations of passing children, the store manager tells her, “Klara, you’re quite remarkable . . . You notice and absorb so much.” It’s the manager too who sometimes has to correct Klara’s observations, or at least give her some more knowledge about what she sees, since given her non-human state and her lack of experience in the world, not everything she sees is accurately interpreted. Something that plays out in ways small and all-too-large, as when Klara, who draws power from the sun, transfers that bit of engineering into a quasi-religious belief she turns to in hopes of an intercession for Josie.

Perception/point of view is highlighted as well when, especially in moments of emotional distress (and one of the many delights in the book is Klara’s sense of empathy), her vision becomes multifaceted, almost like an insect’s compound vision, with scenes separated into two or more “boxes, as in an emotionally tense scene with Josie’s mother: “her face filled eight boxes . . . in one, for instance, her eyes were laughing cruelly, but in the next they were filled with sadness.” It’s a scene that’s both alien, mechanical (think of the split screens we’ve all become so used to in our lives now), and yet also utterly human — the way we struggle to comprehend another person’s thoughts and feelings, the way they themselves show a “different” face and are also a complex blend of emotions all at the same time, never just “one” thing. A concept introduced to her earlier in the novel, unsurprisingly by Manager, who explains to her after a particularly baffling observation, “sometimes . . . people feel a pain alongside their happiness.”

A good lesson in a book where everyone experiences some sort of pain: physical, emotional, the pain of absence, the pain of being bullied, the pain of difference, of isolation, of responsibility, of guilt, despair, fear and hope intermingled. Klara moves through all this pain, keenly observant of it all but also oddly optimistic. It is the artificial being in the novel who is constantly comforting the humans, telling them, albeit without any supporting reason or logic or evidence, that she has a “good feeling” about what will happen to Josie, that she “believes” there is hope that the humans are not seeing. Not that she doesn’t have her own moments of fear, moments where Ishiguro seems to pull away the veil of daily “civilized” life and reveal a more fundamental reality, an elemental battle: one seen in the shifts between sun and shade, light and shadow, blue sky and black pollution. Elemental forces seen in the form of the sun, or, as on a trip to a waterfall, the form of a penned bull:

I’d never before seen anything that gave, all at once, so many signals of anger and the wish to destroy. Its face, its horns, its cold eyes watching me all brough fear into my mind, but I felt something more, something stranger and deeper . . . some great error had been made that the creature should be allowed to stand in the sun’s pattern at all, this bull belonged somewhere deep in the ground far within the mud and darkness, and its presence on the grass could only have awful consequences.

The humans all have reason to fear “awful consequences”, often for decisions made in the past, some for decisions yet to be made firm. And the question of consequences for Klara is raised as well, especially as the book nears its end. It’s been clear from the start, from lines like, “In those early days, when Josie was still quite strong,” that Klara is narrating all this from a future point. What unfolds between the start and that narrative point I won’t detail to avoid spoilers, save to say Klara’s connection to Josie is more than just a companion, and then is even deeper than that. For those who have read Ishiguro, these revelations will come as no surprise, though they are no less moving for that.

I’ve barely scratched the surface of what Ishiguro does in Klara and the Sun. All sorts of echoes resonate throughout the work: images, language, concepts. The idea of “favoritism” for instance ripples outward from product brands to the teen’s interaction parties to transactional relationships to universal truths. Klara’s simple robotic language (interspersed with moments of poetic, almost divine, inspiration) is mirrored in a much less innocent manner by the way human society uses its euphemisms to cover up darker truths: “substituted,” “lifted,” “slow fade.” Drawings, paintings, design schematics move in and out of the text, often carrying a symbolic weight as well as serving their plot purposes, while the structure has a semi-circularity to it, with that “semi” carrying so much weight as well. And the ending is a quiet killer, soft and plain-spoken and also wise and moving. Klara and the Sun isn’t my favorite Ishiguro (that, um, remains Remains), but it’s not far off. Highly recommended.

Klara and the Sun, a new novel by Nobel prize-winning author, Kazuo Ishiguro, will sear your heart as you walk in the shadows, waiting for the sun.

In a dystopian future, the elite young people of society all have artificial intelligence robots. Josie is looking for her very own AI when she spots Klara on display in a store window. Klara is not the newest model but she does have some unique characteristics that set her apart from the more current models. For one, Klara has a particular eye for details and maybe even an uncanny sense of how those details portray the unseen aspects of human relationships.

For herself, Klara wants to understand the power of the sun and how to gain the favor of this powerful being. But to gain his favor, one must spend time waiting in the shadows. And questions in the shadows do not look the same as questions in the light. Is it love or abuse? Friendship or manipulation? What does it mean to put your faith in the hope of another?

Klara will make you reconsider what it means to love and to be loved but most importantly, she will make you contemplate what it means to be human.

Told from the POV of an “Artificial Friend”, Klara and the Sun retreads some familiar territory for Nobel Laureate Kazuo Ishiguro — the first person narration, the sense of mystery as the character’s reality is slowly established, the examination of identity, love, and human connection — and this book is worth reading for the always satisfying experience of Ishiguro’s literary craftsmanship. But despite being set in a plausible — and not very nice — near future, experiencing this world from the perspective of an artificial intelligence (a child’s companion who only knows what she’s seen and been told) wasn’t entirely mind-expanding. If this had been a SciFi novel — with explicit world-building and prescient conjectures explored to their limits — it could have been entertaining and philosophically challenging; but as Ishiguro deals in capital “L” Literary Fiction, this was more about evoking a mood than prognostication; a compelling reading experience, but I don’t think it will be a memorable one. I’d give 3.5 stars if I could and am rounding down simply because I wanted more from Ishiguro

This book is a fantastic gateway into science fiction for any readers, like myself, who are hesitant of the genre. Ishiguro's gentle hand imagines a world adjacent to our present one, but where society is being "lifted." Gene editing no longer allows for organic human interaction. Families purchase Artificial Friends for their children, which is how we meet Klara.

Klara is a constant companion to her human, Josie, who is ill with an unnamed disease. We know she could be on the brink of death. This confuses Klara, whose primary purpose is to remain loyal to Josie, and to make sure she never experiences loneliness.

At the same time, Klara observes a darker side to Josie, which is relatable to those of us who are highly sensitive. Josie changes when interacting with different groups. She becomes mean. She tries to blend in. And in doing so, she hurts Klara and her true best friend, Rick.

What struck me most is the way Ishiguro captured friendship: its complexities, pain, betrayal, and disappointment.

Review // Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

❓Literary Fiction, Sci-Fi

💗 Reflective, Mysterious, Slow-Burn

📖 Klara, an Artificial Friend with incredible observational skills, wants nothing more than to find a loving home. When she's finally chosen from the shop window, she explores the value of love and sacrifice in an ever-changing world.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

"People often felt the need to prepare a side of themselves to display to passers-by – as they might in a store window. Such a display needn’t be taken so seriously."

Kazuo Ishiguro has done again!

No one understands humanity and the human condition quite like Ishiguro. What makes people human? Who's afforded empathy and autonomy? How does class, social structure and technology play into it all? I love how he handles these questions in unique yet universal ways in every single one of his novels.

Klara and the Sun is a slow-burn study of daily life, through the eyes of someone not-quite human. Simple observations became grand adventures, and I absolutely loved how Klara described the things she sees (I'll forever think of smartphones as "oblongs"). Ishiguro even took on fascism and toxic masculinity in new and surprising ways.

As with all of Ishiguro's novels, there's a mystery that weaves its way through the narrative. I read this one in only three days because I had to know what was happening! I did find the twist somewhat obvious and convoluted, and I didn't enjoy it as much as the twist in Never Let Me Go. That being said, the mystery was complex, existential and really made me think.

"There was something very special, but it wasn't inside Josie. It was inside those who loved her."

Read If You Like:
✨ Memorable narrators
✨ Artificial intelligence
✨ WandaVision (really!)

This is the kind of book you keep thinking about, even weeks after you read it. It's a dystopian tale about a robot named Klara. She is an AF, or artificial friend, that was specifically made to keep a child company in their tween to teen years. Her perspective on the world and the humans she works for was fascinating. It's written for adults but I think it's appropriate for high schoolers too.

Thoroughly enjoyed, appreciated the ambiguities about cause and effect; the 'trust in the reader' to not be told everything but rather see through Klara's eyes.