I know Ishiguro is award-winning and held in high regard, and this puts me off sometimes. I enjoy a lot of lesser-known or not yet recognised authors. But sometimes, you want something other people have enjoyed.

This was very meaningful, plenty of deep symbolism and Klara as a narrator is almost painfully naive at times. This is more often sweet than anything else though, and it’s a fascinating, if narrow, glimpse into what almost feels like a post-pandemic society: one gets the impression the apocalypse has come and it was clever science that saved the day, only to fragment Humanity further in the long term.

Would I read it again? Perhaps, if I came across it. I didn’t feel so engaged that I couldn’t put it down, and yet part of me wonders as to how much nuance and subtext I missed. I was never bored, and although Klara’s efforts almost feel fatalistic and pointless, I enjoyed her depth of observance enough that I wanted to finish.