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The Remains of the Day

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There is always the danger of reading too much into a book. That is a danger that I don't believe exists with The Remains of the Day, one of the most beautifully written contemporary novels. The Remains of the Day is the story of Stevens, an English butler in post-World War II England. In beautiful understatement, Ishiguro explores the themes of the novel: What is the meaning of professionalism in today's society? How much should one sacrifice in order to remain true to his own personal ethics? Ishiguro weaves quiet comedy and tragedy in this deceptively simple tale, but always preserves a strong undercurrent of psychological motivation and tension. In beautiful, crystal clear prose, he tells the tale of one man's interpretation of his place in society. The fading class system also serves as a metaphor for the fading glory of the insular world of postwar England. If your're looking for a John Grisham breakneck plot, skip this book. If you want literature at its finest, you can't do better than this.

The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro. Highly recommended.

It's difficult to believe how much Kazuo Ishiguro packed into this short (by today's standards), highly praised novel -- a lifetime of work and relationships, the realization of inescapable regret, and the hope it is not too late to join the rest of humanity.

Stevens is a butler for an English house that is no longer great, nor is it owned by the family for which it is named. His postwar employer is, instead, an American named Farraday; as a stranger will point out to him later, "An American? Well, they're the only ones can afford it now." Farraday "affords" Darlington Hall by shutting much of the house down and using a reduced staff, which Stevens can understand, as the staff that would be available would not be up to his own high standards. When he receives a sad, lonely letter from Darlington's former housekeeper, Miss Kenton (now Mrs. Benn), and later is told by Farraday that he can borrow his employer's car for a vacation on the road, he weighs the opportunity and decides to take it for "professional reasons" -- to see if he can lure back the highly qualified Miss Kenton to her former position. During the brief journey, he spends much of his time contemplating what "dignity" in his profession means -- and whether he lived up to it. After a plethora of recollections about the late Lord Darlington during the prewar years and after his meeting with Miss Kenton, Stevens comes to two great understandings: he did not serve a great man as he thought he had, and, in doing so, he had missed a chance for love and fulfillment. His devotion to Lord Darlington has betrayed him, personally and professionally. "I can't even say I made my own mistakes," he laments. "Really -- one has to say -- what dignity is there in that?"

This revelation does not come quickly or easily to either Stevens or the reader. Each anecdote that Stevens recalls to illustrate a point he wishes to make to himself -- the definition of dignity, how he upheld dignity by serving his employer while his own father lay dying -- subtly reveals how much he has shut himself down emotionally in order to serve. With each story, it becomes clearer that Lord Darlingon is an easily manipulated man, out of his league in world politics but insistent on playing the role of peacemaker -- even when it is no longer appropriate or wise. When his friendship with a woman leads him to firing two Jewish maids, it foreshadows his attempts to influence the British government into appeasing Hitler and the Nazis at any cost. He goes so far as to say that the U.K. should perhaps follow Germany's lead. "Germany and Italy have set their houses in order by acting . . . See what strong leadership can do if it's allowed to act. None of this universal suffrage nonsense." Stevens unwittingly proves Lord Darlington's point for him -- he trusts Lord Darlington's judgment as blindly as any German trusted Hitler's, believing that "people like him" are too ignorant to make the decisions that must be made and following the great man contentedly -- and thus making a bad decision.

When it comes to Miss Kenton, here too his perception is kept in check by his need for professionalism and dignity. His repeated emphasis on their "professional" relationship and his desire to reconnect with her as a "professional" only highlight the extent to which he will go to suppress his real feelings -- and the very real possibilities that existed.

In life and love, Stevens realises he has been avoiding both. In the end, however, there is hope. After sending Miss Kenton home, back to her husband, Stevens turns to "bantering"; that is, engaging with people without resorting to pre-programmed professional phrases --in short, truly interacting with his fellow humans. "After all, when one thinks about it, it is not such a foolish thing to indulge in -- particularly if it is the case that in bantering lies the key to human warmth." Indeed it does.

One doesn't have to be a butler in service to others to use the remains of his or her own day to look back and appraise where one went wrong and where there is still room for hope. This is an incredible journey toward understanding, written in a concise, spare manner that fits perfectly with the character of Stevens. Few writers have the gift of saying so much in so little space. More should learn it.

Diane L. Schirf, 18 November 2001.

"The Remains of the Day" is a fascinating study of character, and to some extent of history as well. The novel spans the professional life of an English Butler named Stevens. It guides us from his heyday as a loyal servant at Darlington Hall to his twilight years as a curio for the estate's new American owner. Steven's is a man of impeccable loyalty and stubbornness. While these qualities ensure Stevens' professional survival, they also provide his life with tragic limitations.

In some parts of the book, Stevens' loyalty is admirable albeit misdirected. For example, Stevens is unable to acknowledge his father's infirmity until Lord Darlington brings it to his attention. He is also unable to shed his professional scales just long enough to have a meaningful interaction with the woman he loves. At the end of the book, Stevens returns to Darlington Hall from a short trip to the country and resolves to master the sort of "bantering" that his American employer requires. All of these factors make Steven's a humorous caricature, but Ishiguro did not write this book merely to make fun of English butlers.

The real issue lurking in the depths of this book centers on fascism and conformity. Stevens' master, Lord Darlington has ties to the British fascist leader Sir Oswald Mosley, and is later denounced and disgraced for that reason. Blind loyalty prevents Stevens from acknowledging the error of Lord Darlington's conviction, even after he fires all the Jewish members of his staff. Long after Lord Darlington's death, when his estate has been purchased by a wealthy American, Stevens still feels unquestioning loyalty to the master. It costs him his relationship with the woman he loves, and makes us rather pity his blindness.

Stevens is in fact the prototypical conformist. His endless loyalty comes not so much from conviction but from protocol and habit. It is adaptable and transferable to any form of authority be it a fascist aristocrat or an American business man. Much like the fascists of Western Europe, Stevens is still quite useful to have around even when the old order passes and the new one takes over. Obedient, passionless, and blind to the injustices around him--Steven's morality is an open standard that can be retrofitted for any authority.

After reading this book, I recommend that you check out Bernardo Bertolucci's film "Il Conformist". Bertolucci explores the same sort of mindset albeit from a different perspective.

The Booker Prize has Kazuo Ishiguro to thank for raising the reputation of the British award in the American market. This is simply a great literary novel. It is an organically crafted novel which uses the unreliable first person narrative technique to great effect. Stevens expresses himself with elegant phrases indicative of his station, which immediately endears him to readers who respect civility of manners. (And who doesn't, right?) But then the novel starts to turn. Stevens is above all a dedicated professional butler, but his actions are morally in question. From the opening chapter Ishiguro immediately presents one of the major themes of this ambitious novel: what is the nature of professionalism? Is it doing one's job without question, at the expense of one's humanity? Is professionalism the only moral guide in the modern era? Is professionalism at odds with 19th century European ideals? This story starts out as a seemingly silly debate about whether to take a drive in the English countryside or not, but over course of the novel it expands into a debate about the moral questions of the 20th century--quite a feat. The love story with Miss Kenton is memorable, but it is really the big questions that make this one of the most important novels of the 1990s. A great book for English literature classes.

I picked up this book because I have long been interested in butlers, and specifically, in becoming a butler.

Before this book, I found it very difficult and at times frustrating to find subject matter that treated it seriously. There is no "butlering for dummies" or "The Real Butlers of Orange County" to aid people who have the same desire--no, passion--that I once had.

I'm very grateful to this book, because after reading it, I knew what I don't want to do anymore. That's right. Become a butler. It turns out that being a butler is super boring. You can't go to clubs or get crunk, and you don't even get to listen to music in your own room. You basically have to live a certain way at all times and avoid ever doing anything that might embarrass your master. (Spoiler: Almost anything you do could embarrass the master)

If you are a butler, or you want to become a butler, I highly recommend reading this book. It will let you see exactly what life is like for butlers.

I know that my mother is disappointed in me because of this book, but it doesn't matter. This book saved me from a really boring life as a butler. I really appreciate it, and am so glad I found it.

Thanks a lot for writing this book.

I first read 'The Remains of the Day' shortly after it came out. Since then, I have re-read it four times and recommended it to a dozen people (buying copies for half of them, so intent was I to share this joy). Each time, whether from re-reading it or discussing it with a friend, I learn something new about the book. For those who have read it, 'Stevens' (the narrator) is as much a real person as Holden Caufield in 'Cather and the Rye' - a friend.

First of all, it is a book that almost anyone can enjoy. You don't have to be an intellectual who loves to read 'deep' books (although if you are, you too will love it). The prose is simple enough, and yet also beautiful, and there is plenty of humour. And the plot idea is simple enough - a butler (Stevens) making a road trip across England in the 1950's to his former co-worker, the housekeeper Miss Kenton - whom he once shared some feelings with, albeit on a suppressed level, and whom he would now, at the remains of his day, see once again to see what happens.

Yet this book is also profoundly moving. As the story unfolds and we learn from Stevens more and more about his life and history, we become more and more deeply involved with him: his sense of duty, his attention to detail, his ideas about propriety and responsibility. He becomes for us a strange yet wonderful creature, and icon of an earlier age and yet still a mirror of ourselves.

From the first few lines to the silently crushing emotional finish, this is a book that casts a spell over the reader time and time again. Read it on the surface and it is beautiful; delve deeper and you can mine levels of meaning on war, human expression and repression, guilt, hope and love. The craftsmanship with which Ishiguro fashioned this masterpiece still amazes me; it is that work of art that goes beyond its craftsman. In my last reading I came across several more symbolic images I had missed earlier - the metaphors that Ishiguro is so fond of, existing on so many levels. The book itself is a metaphor for life.

This is one of the very best books I have read and as many good books it can be read on many levels. I find it to be the easiest book he have written. It is also made into a very good movie, with fabulous actors and brilliant acting, a great achievement that has its own value and own identity as one interpretation of the book.

One of Ishiguros main messages is that if you will you can change your life. But sometimes it is already to late, you had a chance and you didn't grasp it, and you are stuck with the consequences. He also tries to get us to see that if you choose to be a loyal part of something bigger, a corporation, a business, even a household, you will still be responsible for whatever is done in the name of that entity. You can of course pretend you do not know that your boss is cooperating with people who are bigots and nazis. You can pretend it does not concern you, because you are just doing your job. Like some people in Germany closed their eyes to the concentration camps and some Japanese closed their eyes to the atrocities done in the name of a god (their emperor) and like other people later have done towards the treatment of indians in south America etc. etc. If you choose to get close to the center of history you may well be burned. Ishiguro once said in a interview that "one uses memory for ones own purpose, one's own ends" and that is why he writes in the first person form, to be able to follow somebody's thoughts around," as they trip themself up or try to hide from themself".

The remains of the day is Ishiguros way of telling us to live to day and to grasp love when and if you find it and not to wait until you are old. Carpe diem is one of his obvious messages in the book. The remains of the day won the Booker price and it deserved it and he also (to use soccer terminology) made a hat trick with it. Both his two first books won prices, with A Pale View of the Hills he won The Royal Societies of Literature's Winifred prize and An Artist of the Floating World he won the Whitbread prize.

"The Remains of the Day" is a very rare, very special sort of novel. It's a gem. I'd put off reading it for some time, and never got around to the movie (not a big Merchant Ivory fan - their stuff makes me sleepy). Anyways, while reading Ishiguro's "Never Let Me Go," several friends spotted the name on the cover and suggested I read "Remains."

I regret sounding gushy, but in a real sense, "Remains" is sort of a near-perfect novel. One doesn't often encounter writing which so delicately balances a meticulous, character-accurate voice (in this case, the prim, ornately structured proper English of a high-class butler) with deep, nuanced human emotion. The book unfolds like a little Swiss watch, all intricate, interlocking parts, so carefully that you'd expect an end result focused on form and execution - impressive, maybe, but austere and distant.

But Ishiguro is a wizard.

This is as sensitive and devastatingly human as fiction gets. Without stratospheric revelations, tearful tragedies or high suspense, Ishiguro puts his man through a few days of quiet reflection and extracts an awesome payoff - a finely crafted, tiny little jewel of regret and doubt.

At 256 (suprisingly breezy) pages, "The Remains of the Day" is worth your time. It's really special.

Sometimes I think there can't be a more perfect novel than "The Remains of the Day." I am a great fan of Kazuo Ishiguro and have read all of his books, and while all of them are superb and all are literature of the highest order, "The Remains of the Day" is certainly his very best.

"The Remains of the Day" is the story of Stevens, the perfect English butler and of how his devotion to duty and his negation of emotion virtually annihilates his sense of self.

Stevens is "in service" at Darlington Hall, the home of Lord Darlington during the years between World War I and World War II. Complications arise for Stevens when he finds he must replace two members of the staff at Darlington...a housekeeper and an under-butler.

...

"The Remains of theDay" is a masterpiece in many ways, not the least of which is subtlety. We know Stevens feels pain, we know he feels love, and we can read, in between Ishiguro's perfectly chosen, precise words, Stevens' struggle to express that which he feels so deeply.

...

If you haven't read "The Remains of the Day" or seen the movie, you may get the idea that this is a very depressing book, indeed. It is not. It is quiet and understated and ultimately, profoundly sad, but it does its moments of humor, though they, too, are masterpieces of understatement. One of the most typical involves a Chinese figure that causes a minor battle of wills between Stevens and Miss Kenton.

All of Kazuo Ishiguro's books raise many more questions than they answer (a mark of a truly superlative book) and "The Remains of the Day" is no exception. Are Stevens and Miss Kenton merely victims of their occupations and the times in which they live or does Stevens possess some flaw of character, a flaw that permits him to be the perfect English butler but a less than perfect man? Each reader will have to draw his or her own conclusions, but I can guarantee one thing: no one who reads this book will come away from it unchanged. Indeed, most will come away heartbroken.

Years ago I had a discussion with someone I had only just met, sitting at a bar or something, and he mentioned to me that he was retired, and retired from a career as a waiter. This struck me for some reason. I thought, how does he justify himself? How does one justify an entire life spent in the service of others?

I thought of this when I first picked up this novel, which is also about one who has spent his life in the service of others; in this case an English butler, a Mr. Stevens. It takes place during the early to mid-part of the twentieth century, and in one of the great houses of England. Mr. Stevens' claim is that service to one who serves humanity, is--in his self-admitted small way--of service to humanity itself. It is therefore important that one performs this service with as much skill and ability as one is able to muster. It is an entirely convincing argument, made by a complex and fascinating character. But as this brilliant novel progresses, we realize that the philosophical premise on which Mr. Stevens has based his life has not remained entirely intact.

The premise of the novel is that Mr. Stevens is keeping a journal while taking a week-long automobile journey to the west of England, for the purpose of relaxation, and also to visit a former employee of his ostensibly to rehire her. It is a sound literary device: his observations of the people he meets and the events which occur on his journey keep us from getting too bogged down in his reminiscenses. Eventually, we discover that this device serves another purpose: Mr. Stevens' current actions in fact add a great deal of understanding to that which he has left unsaid in his reminiscenses, and our picture of him is greatly illuminated.

You see, Mr. Stevens is a very proud man. He is proud of the meticulous care he takes in his work, and he is proud of the stoicism and grace he displays under intense pressure. He relates a remarkable event. During the course of a dinner given for political dignitaries, and at which delicate and controversial issues were being discussed, Mr. Stevens' father, after a brief illness, passes away in the servants' quarters. Miss Kenton, who will figure prominently later in the novel, comes to let him know. "Will you come up and see him?" she asks.

"I am very busy just now, Miss Kenton. In a little while perhaps."

As she ascends the stairs, he says, "Miss Kenton, please don't think me unduly improper in not ascending to see my father in his deceased condition just at this moment. You see, I know my father would have wished me to carry on just now."

"Of course, Mr. Stevens," she replies.

How understated, elegant, and moving this is. He relates this to show us, and without being bombastic, that this is the sort of thing to which he most aspires: maintaining one's dignity and aplomb even under the most difficult of circumstances. He recalls the incident with a sense of triumph.

But if he is rightfully proud of his work, his journey causes him to reflect on the person to whom he has donated this magnificent service, and it is here, initially, that his not-so-tiny doubts creep in. For Mr. Darlington, his employer for most of his life, has had his reputation damaged, and is no longer held in the esteem he had enjoyed prior to World War II. His reputation, in fact, is in tatters.

And his journey also causes him to reflect on the relationship he had had with Miss Kenton, gone these twenty years, and to whom he is now going to visit. Without his ever mentioning it, it becomes clear to us that his feelings for Miss Kenton were much greater than he is letting on, and it is also clear that she had feelings for him. The climax of the novel is their meeting, in which they continue to handle themselves in the restrained, elegant, and understated manner to which they have subjected their entire lives. As they are about to depart from one another, Miss Kenton, whose subsequent marriage to another was not entirely successful, acknowledges that she has occasionally thought about what life would have been like with Mr. Stevens. Mr. Stevens finally lets his reserve down for one brief moment, and acknowledges to us that his heart is breaking. This scene, along with the one which follows, is almost unbearably moving.

What a masterpiece Mr. Ishiguro has created. This novel succeeds in every conceivable aspect: from the unusual and perfectly realized characters; to the careful and meticulous way in which the plot is revealed; and finally to its rich, thematic nature, one and not the the least of which is perseverance in doing a job well, no matter how small or seemingly unimportant. This book is a dazzler; the sort of thing we dream about and hope to get each and every time we pick up a novel we have not yet read.