Klara and the Sun – Kazuo Ishiguro

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to see the world from the outside, yet feel every emotion as if it were your own? // Kazuo Ishiguro’s Klara and the Sun invites us into exactly that perspective. // Told through the eyes of Klara, an Artificial Friend, the novel explores love, hope, and the meaning of life, showing us humanity in all its complexity from a fresh, observant viewpoint.

Klara is designed to keep children company, yet she is far more than a companion. // She watches humans with a curiosity and innocence that highlight the subtleties of our relationships—the joy, the sorrow, the devotion, and the unspoken tensions that shape our lives. // Through her eyes, we see ordinary moments become profound, and everyday acts of care transform into moral reflections on what it means to be human.

The story is both simple and deeply philosophical. // As Klara observes, she begins to grapple with questions of purpose, faith, and existence. // She believes in the Sun as a source of healing and sustenance, mirroring humanity’s own need for hope, belief, and transcendence. // In watching others love, lose, and sacrifice, Klara demonstrates that even an artificial being can illuminate the moral and emotional truths of our lives.

Central to the novel are themes of love, hope, morality, and the essence of human nature. // Ishiguro asks us to consider: How do we care for others? // How do we balance desire, responsibility, and compassion? // What makes life meaningful, and how do we recognize it in ourselves and those around us? // Through Klara, we explore these questions gently, but profoundly, finding insights into both our limitations and our potential.

Philosophically, the novel reflects on the spiritual dimensions of empathy and moral responsibility. // Even though Klara is artificial, her experiences mirror our own quest for connection, understanding, and purpose. // Ishiguro invites readers to pause, reflect, and consider what truly makes life sacred—the bonds we form, the faith we carry, and the hope we nurture.

So—why should you read Klara and the Sun? // Because it challenges us to see the world through fresh eyes while contemplating our humanity, ethics, and capacity for love. // It is a story that engages both heart and mind, offering emotional resonance alongside philosophical reflection. // Ishiguro’s understated prose draws us into quiet moments of insight, leaving us pondering our own relationships, beliefs, and the ways we care for one another.

In the end, Klara and the Sun is a meditation on the nature of life, the search for meaning, and the power of empathy. // Through the gentle observations of Klara, Ishiguro shows us that even from the outside, one can touch the essence of what it is to live fully, to hope, and to love. // And that is what makes this novel a moving, unforgettable exploration of the human heart.

Reading 1 (Part 2)

W

hen we were new, Rosa and I were mid-store, on the magazines table side,

and could see through more than half of the window. So we were able to

watch the outside – the office workers hurrying by, the taxis, the runners,

the tourists, Beggar Man and his dog, the lower part of the RPO Building.

Once we were more settled, Manager allowed us to walk up to the front

until we were right behind the window display, and then we could see how

tall the RPO Building was. And if we were there at just the right time, we

would see the Sun on his journey, crossing between the building tops from

our side over to the RPO Building side.

When I was lucky enough to see him like that, I’d lean my face forward

to take in as much of his nourishment as I could, and if Rosa was with me,

I’d tell her to do the same. After a minute or two, we’d have to return to our

positions, and when we were new, we used to worry that because we often

couldn’t see the Sun from mid-store, we’d grow weaker and weaker. Boy

AF Rex, who was alongside us then, told us there was nothing to worry

about, that the Sun had ways of reaching us wherever we were. He pointed

to the floorboards and said, ‘That’s the Sun’s pattern right there. If you’re

worried, you can just touch it and get strong again.’

There were no customers when he said this, and Manager was busy

arranging something up on the Red Shelves, and I didn’t want to disturb her

by asking permission. So I gave Rosa a glance, and when she looked back

blankly, I took two steps forward, crouched down and reached out both

hands to the Sun’s pattern on the floor. But as soon as my fingers touched it,

the pattern faded, and though I tried all I could – I patted the spot where it

had been, and when that didn’t work, rubbed my hands over the floorboards

– it wouldn’t come back. When I stood up again Boy AF Rex said:

‘Klara, that was greedy. You girl AFs are always so greedy.’

Even though I was new then, it occurred to me straight away it might not

have been my fault; that the Sun had withdrawn his pattern by chance just

when I’d been touching it. But Boy AF Rex’s face remained serious.

‘You took all the nourishment for yourself, Klara. Look, it’s gone almost

dark.’

Sure enough the light inside the store had become very gloomy. Even

outside on the sidewalk, the Tow-Away Zone sign on the lamp post looked

gray and faint.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said to Rex, then turning to Rosa: ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean

to take it all myself.’

‘Because of you,’ Boy AF Rex said, ‘I’m going to become weak by

evening.’

‘You’re making a joke,’ I said to him. ‘I know you are.’

‘I’m not making a joke. I could get sick right now. And what about those

AFs rear-store? There’s already something not right with them. They’re

bound to get worse now. You were greedy, Klara.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ I said, but I was no longer so sure. I looked at

Rosa, but her expression was still blank.

‘I’m feeling sick already,’ Boy AF Rex said. And he sagged forward.

‘But you just said yourself. The Sun always has ways to reach us. You’re

making a joke, I know you are.’

Reading 2 (Part 3)

‘This is it, Klara. From here we’re on foot. Can you manage it?’

When we got out, I felt the chilly wind and heard the birds’ noises.

There were more wild trees around us as we climbed a path with rocks and

clusters of mud. I had to take precautions, but I kept up behind the Mother,

and after a time we went through a gap between two wooden posts onto

another path. This one kept rising, and the Mother had frequently to stop to

allow me to catch up. It occurred to me then she might have been correct

after all in believing this trip too difficult for Josie.

Just at this point, I happened to look to my left, over the fence running

beside us, and saw the bull in the field, watching us carefully. I had seen

photos of bulls in magazines, but of course never in reality, and even though

this one was standing quite far from us, and I knew it couldn’t cross the

fence, I was so alarmed by its appearance I gave an exclamation and came

to a halt. I’d never before seen anything that gave, all at once, so many

signals of anger and the wish to destroy. Its face, its horns, its cold eyes

watching me all brought fear into my mind, but I felt something more,

something stranger and deeper. At that moment it felt to me some great

error had been made that the creature should be allowed to stand in the

Sun’s pattern at all, that this bull belonged somewhere deep in the ground

far within the mud and darkness, and its presence on the grass could only

have awful consequences.

‘It’s okay,’ the Mother said. ‘He can’t touch us. Now come on. I need a

coffee.’

I made myself look away from the bull and followed the Mother. Then

quite soon we were no longer climbing and around us appeared the rough

wooden tables I’d seen in Josie’s photograph. I counted fourteen of them

placed around the field, each one with benches attached on either side made

from wooden planks. There were adults, children, AFs, dogs sitting at the

tables, or running, walking and standing around them. Just beyond the

tables was the waterfall. It was larger and fiercer than the one I’d seen in the

magazine, filling eight boxes just by itself. I looked for the Sun, but

couldn’t see him in the gray sky.

‘We’ll sit here,’ the Mother said. ‘Go on, sit down. Wait for me. I need

coffee.’

I watched her walk to a hut made of the same rough wood some twenty

paces away. It had an open counter at the front so that it could function as a

store, and passers-by were now standing in line there.

I was glad of the chance to sit down and orient myself, and as I waited at

the rough table for the Mother to return, I found the surroundings settling

into order. The waterfall no longer took up so many boxes, and I watched

children and their AFs passing easily from one box to another with barely

any interruption.

Reading 3 (Part 4)

I pushed back my chair on its castors, rose and passed through the glass

door onto the balcony. I’d already established that the balcony was a

rectangular circuit touching all four walls. Now, choosing the rear half of it,

I kept close to the white wall, taking care not to cause the metal mesh to

ring under my feet, or to cross spotlight beams in any way that could create

moving shadows below. I reached the Purple Door unnoticed and keyed in

the code I’d observed twice already. There came the usual short hum, but

this too went unnoticed by those below. I was then inside Mr Capaldi’s

studio and closed the door behind me.

The room was L-shaped, the section before me turning a corner into an

extension beyond the normal boundary of the building. Leading towards

this corner were two counters attached to each wall, busy with shapes,

fabrics, small knives and tools. But I had no time to focus on these, and

went on towards the corner, remembering to tread cautiously, because the

floor was still of the same metal mesh.

I turned the corner of the L and saw Josie there, suspended in the air. She

wasn’t very high – her feet were at the height of my shoulders – but because

she was leaning forward, arms outstretched, fingers spread, she seemed to

be frozen in the act of falling. Little beams illuminated her from various

angles, forbidding her any refuge. Her face was very like that of the real

Josie, but because there was at the eyes no kind smile, the upward curve of

her lips gave her an expression I’d never seen before. The face looked

disappointed and afraid. Her clothes weren’t real clothes, but made from

thin tissue paper to approximate a T-shirt on her top half, loose-fitting

shorts on the lower. The tissue was pale yellow and translucent and under

the sharp lighting made this Josie’s arms and legs look all the more fragile.

Her hair had been tied back in the manner the real Josie wore it on her ill

days, and this was the one detail that failed to convince; the hair had been

made from a substance I’d never seen on any AF, and I knew this Josie

wouldn’t be happy with it.Having made my observations, my intention was to return to the cubicle

before my absence from it was noticed. I walked carefully back past the two

work counters and opened the Purple Door a small way. It made the usual

humming noise, but I could tell from the voices below that no one had

heard it. I could tell too that the mood was now even more filled with

tension.

‘Paul’ – the Mother’s voice was almost shouting – ‘you’ve been

determined to make this difficult from the start.’

‘Come on, Josie,’ the Father said. ‘Let’s go. Right now.’

‘But Dad…’

‘Josie, we leave right now. Believe me, I know what I’m doing.’

‘I don’t think you do,’ the Mother said, and Mr Capaldi said over her,

‘Paul, come on, take it easy. If there’s been a misunderstanding, I take full

responsibility and I apologize.’

‘How much more information do you need anyway?’ the Father asked,

and now he was shouting too, but that could perhaps have been because he

was moving across the floor. ‘I’m surprised you’re not requesting a sample

of her blood.’

‘Paul, be reasonable,’ the Mother said. The Father and Josie were saying

something at the same time, but then Mr Capaldi said over them:

‘It’s okay, Chrissie, let them go. Let them go, it doesn’t change

anything.’