Kazuo Ishiguro's mythic fantasy tale takes place in an imagined past, in which a strange mist has settled over the British Isles, causing everyone to lose their memories. The story follows an elderly couple named Axl and Beatrice who set out from the safety of their underground village in search of their adult son. Dangers await them in the form of monsters and strange folk roaming the wilds. They also find allies in a Saxon warrior named Wistan and in Sir Gawain, the last knight of King Arthur's court. Axl & Beatrice's journey to reach their son's village leads them to discover the true nature of the mist itself, and puts them in the position to bring about an end to it. As they come closer to achieving this, we are invited to consider along with them what it means to remember and to forget, to hold on and to let go, to persevere and to resign.
I loved this story. Ishiguro’s clear and simple language leads you confidently through the tale. There’s a care and gentleness to his storytelling which (as with Never Let Me Go) does nothing to detract from the hardship or distress of the events being described. He also tackles the mythic fantasy genre as faithfully and yet innovatively as his treatment of the Kafkaesque in The Unconsoled. Much of the world is discovered by characters asking questions of one another, lending a dream-like quality to the landscape as it emerges from the mists. Characters are met along the way who seem familiar and yet are not decisively revealed as a new or returning character, hinting at the narrative warping of stories told and retold through oral tradition till they are written down at last. This occurs even between characters in the story, with both Wistan and Sir Gawain recalling memories of Axl himself that might not quite align but equally could both be true. Archetypes too are well used, with Knights, Hags and Ogres simultaneously subverted and permitted to resonate with their forebears in every story that’s come before. Achieving this balance of the vague yet evocative is extremely hard to do without plunging an exciting tale into the realm of inconsequential, disjointed nonsense - and it’s struck perfectly here.
A key component of this balance is the anchor of Axl and Beatrice throughout. One of the most compelling elements of their journey is the early-asked question of whether love can exist without the anchor of memory. They are tested by doubt and fear throughout, and when presented with the path to dispel the mist and regain their memories, have quite different views on whether they should. It is telling on both their characters that Axl, afraid to confront their memories since they seem content in their present, refers constantly to his wife as ‘princess’ while Beatrice, desperate to remember what’s been lost, no matter what it is, calls Axl ‘husband’. Axl, though fearful of the past, still lives firmly in it. Beatrice meanwhile, though suffering far more from the physical frailties of age, shows perhaps a greater strength here.
They do however have faith in their promise to one another, not only to find their son, but in their commitment to one another. This, together with their moment to moment kindness to one another, account for some of the most touching scenes in the book. In the face of their fading memories, Axl and Beatrice’s love learns to live in the active present and potential future.
As a shadow to this love at the centre of the story, there is a pervasive sense of ending. The faded grandeur of Sir Gawain, the frailty of Axl and Beatrice themselves, the giant cairns that loom from the mist: It’s a story that is saying goodbye. Goodbye to the last remnants of magic in the world, goodbye to the Britain that came before Britain, perhaps even a goodbye to life itself. Somehow even this darker element landed for me as a life affirming one because even with the sense of loss, there is one of acceptance and dignity. There's a natural order of things at work here. Standing in the way of that, clinging on to what should be let go, can only lead to the wasteland. The ending, though ambiguous (perhaps even because of its ambiguity), has stuck with me since I finished reading. It’s one that I truly hope does not fade into the mists.
Till next time!
