Klara and the Sun

I have finished Klara and the Sun, by Ishiguro. Listed as "Dystopian Science Fiction", it is an amazing book, truly original in style and content where the protagonist is Klara, a robot of limited intelligence or ability. Children are brought up in semi-isolation, learning on their tablets, so robots like Klara are sold to be companions for them to prevent loneliness. The primitive Klara can read human emotions moderately well, and through her (it?) we learn of the other characters in the story, and find that many human jobs have been supplanted by robots with the accompanying problems of unemployment and restlessness and potential revolt, though nothing of this develops in the story. The main point of the story seems to be an analogy of how humans throughout history have developed a universal sense of theological worship, whether to objects like trees or animals; human role models like Christ or the Buddha, or abstractions of a spiritual god. For Klara, it becomes the sun she worships, through prayer and sacrifice. 

As a work of science fiction, there is much that is only implied or ill-defined and not worked through, but one anomaly stands out. It is fundamental to the story that the sun sets behind Mr. McBain's barn as Klara seeks it's resting place, but it never moves from that spot. In reality, the sun will move round the horizon by a full 45 degrees each half year, or two degrees per week. It is as though Ishiguro's  earth is standing still in heaven, neglecting its seasonal changes, to still the sun in its track as a fixed marker in the sand for the story. This trivial fact is representative of the whole: we get nothing but hints of science fiction, with nothing worked through; a sense of great political and cultural changes, but lacking any impression of to what it might lead. We are left, like Klara herself, floundering and neglected in the junk yard trying to get our impressions in order, but with no real sense of the outer world or what it means.

Today, Ann is suffering. Her eye is sore and weeping. She has to put several types of drops in each day. But worse, at the moment she has lost even the peripheral vision she had, and is completely blind in the eye. She used to see me scratching from the corner of her eye without turning her head, but now I scratch without comment. We are left waiting for improvement so she can once more keep me in check.

Edwin and Andre are house-hunting in Bury and Norwich. Their present appartment has grown too small, with both working from home and needing office space. They saw two houses today, then came on to us this evening. To save Ann from discomfort in going out or having to prepare a meal, they have kindly gone into Haverhill to get a take-away Chinese. They have taken my new car, to include the dogs, and will walk them down the High Street to sit in one of the pubs awaiting the meal to be ready. They are so thoughtful!

There have been so many jokes circulating about the hypocrites of Downing Street. A local pub has put a sign outside: "OK, we admit it. We did misjudge Boris Johnson. He can arrange a piss-up".