Monday, October 31, 2022

Klara and the Sun

 By Kazuo Ishiguro, 2021

As in his other books (those I have read), Ishiguro poses profound questions by slowly revealing a painful reality through the limited perspective of one of his characters. The perspective here is that of an artificial consciousness, embodied in an organic robot but developed with a high level of sensitivity to human emotions. Naturally, this gives Klara, the robot, an unusual perspective on the human relationships that she sees, but with an imperfect ability to understand them.

In spite of the fact that Klara is a robot, or an Artificial Friend, an AF as she is called – and Ishiguro emphasizes this throughout – she is the most sympathetic character in the story. Perhaps it’s because she is telling the story and we see everything through her eyes, but she is also consistently warm, generous, uncomplaining and thoughtful. The human characters are mostly deeply flawed, showing selfishness, shallowness, fear and carelessness toward each other, together with more positive traits. I found that I was more interested in what was going to happen to Klara than to the human characters. And the ultimate resolution seemed quite sad, although also satisfying because it fulfilled Klara’s desires (or programing objectives).

The fact that Klara is content with her fate is a contrast with the human society that Ishiguro portrays. The humans seem never to accept their conditions, whether it relates to their health, their emotions or their economy. It’s never clear exactly why, but they seem to be living in some kind of social breakdown. It appears that technology, apparently related to genetic editing, is not only tied to economic collapse, but has also affected the health of young people. And this leads to a range of reactions: a new underclass rejects the technology at significant cost, while those with more assets attempt to overcome the problems with even more questionable technology. Ishiguro leaves us with the question of whether stasis like Klara’s might be a better outcome than a continuing, highly problematic struggle to advance.

Interestingly, each artificial personality learns from its own experience and builds its own picture of reality. (This is much like Oliver Sacks’ description of people building consciousness by mapping their individual experiences.) This means that each AF is different, and each has some similarity with human consciousness, although in distinct and unique ways. Thus, they model human consciousness. Klara, for example, while highly attuned to human emotions is very ignorant about the basics of life. She thinks of the sun as a godlike male because he gives her energy and spreads warmth. She makes basic human mistakes like thinking he can heal illness because she saw someone get better after sunlight fell on him. This seems like what a pre-scientific human might have understood about the gods, but it also illustrates how contemporary human thinking is subject to misperception and false logic. Like us, she can’t distinguish between reality and the perceptions caused by her sensors and processors. In this way, the story becomes an exploration of religious belief. Belief and prayer are very real to Klara.

I did feel that some aspects of the novel were odd – Klara’s stiff and unnatural use of language, for example, and her lack of knowledge about basic facts like what the sun is. Initially, this just seemed to reflect a weak understanding on Ishiguro’s part (and his editors’) about how programmed machines are likely to work in human culture. It’s partly explained by indicating that Klara is an early generation of her type and later generations are more advanced. Perhaps it’s also a trade-off for the processing power that her emotional analysis and empathy take. I grew more comfortable with it as the novel moves along, accepting it as a reflection of Klara’s imperfect learning and understanding. Human society is complicated and technology does not get it all right. And, we know, developers are apt to release early technology before all the bugs are worked out.

I like the quiet thoughtfulness in Ishiguro’s writing, and I’ll look forward to reading more of his books.