I was just about ten pages away from finishing Never Let Me Go last night when my boyfriend's hunger finally dominated the situation and I stopped so we could make dinner. I hate when this happens, that delay just as you're over the cusp. At the same time, though, it came as an almost welcome break. There's a hollowness that comes with finishing a fantastic book, knowing you can never read it for the first time ever again, and prolonging the inevitable can make that bitterness a little sweeter.
Anyway, as we're making dinner (grilled cheese & tomato soup) I can't get my mind off the book. At least he knows by now what to expect from conversation when I'm interrupted from a book like that. I tell him that Never Let Me Go has to be the most depressing book I've ever read. And he says I say that about every book I read. That's not quite true, but he's not misremembering, either. I read a lot of books with depressing endings. I'll joke at work that the only books I read with happy endings are the ones where the characters start off so completely miserable that it can only go up from there (i.e. Room by Emma Donaghue). Never Let Me Go is something else, though. I won't go into too much detail because the less you know about this book going in, the better. What I can say is that this is a story about youth and potential, modern science and moral limits. And an extra special kudos goes to Ishiguro for being able to capture a female voice so well despite his extra appendage.
I did finish the book last night after the boyfriend fell asleep on the couch in a post grilled cheese bliss. I went to bed feeling pretty drained. Next up is Under the Skin by Michael Faber. Honestly I'm terrified of starting this one, mostly because it was a present from my brother who has a thing for gore-filled horror flicks. He keeps bugging me about it, though, so I'm taking the plunge today. I'll let you know how it goes.