When We Were Orphans

When We Were Orphans (2000), Kazuo Ishiguro’s fifth novel, has been called the author’s weakest work, and I’ve heard that he himself has admitted as much to some degree, perhaps in an interview. That said, he’s such an accomplished storyteller that his “worst” novel might be more fairly described as his “least best.”

I do agree, though, that this isn’t as strong as his others. It feels too long in places and could have benefited from some trimming. At times I really enjoyed it, as much for Ishiguro’s precise and evocative descriptions as for the story itself. He has a remarkable ability to capture scenes and human nature, choosing language with a care that brings out the exact nuance of a moment or character, not unlike Charles Dickens.

I also had the sense that Ishiguro wasn’t entirely sure where the story was heading about two-thirds of the way through. The novel follows detective Christopher Banks as he attempts to solve the mystery of his parents’ disappearance during his childhood in 1930s Shanghai. From London he eventually returns to Shanghai, parts of which are being regularly bombed by the Japanese. There, he tries to track down anyone who might know what happened to his parents. He comes to believe they were caught up in the opium trade, kidnapped by a warlord, and held for years in a single house. This final stretch didn’t quite work for me. Banks’s certainty that his parents would still be there after so many years felt implausible, and the extended search for the house went on longer than it needed to. It almost seemed as though the narrative had lost sight of its central thread. That said, the first half of the novel is excellent, and the final fifty pages are strong as well. Whatever weakens the middle doesn’t diminish the book as a whole, which remains a worthwhile and engaging read.