When We Were Orphans

Kazuo Ishiguro eases the reader into When We Were Orphans (2000) with beautiful, easygoing and fluid prose. This delightful prose makes the book hard to put down even when it becomes clear that a swindle of some sort occurs towards the end. I came late to the realization that in fact Christopher Banks, the narrator, gives us an unreliable account of his memories; that in fact, he is a hopeless idealist who believed that he could save his parents and possibly, the world. I was strung along and set up for disappointment, not at the book – which I found to be a masterpiece – but at Mr. Banks’s self-possessed idealism and embellished opinion of himself.

Yet, therein lies a masterful portrayal of a character haunted by separation from his parents at an early age. Christopher Banks is a celebrated detective in Britain during the period between the First and Second World Wars. The more celebrated he becomes, the more compelled he feels to solve the one great mystery in his life – the kidnapping of his parents in the International Settlement in Shanghai, China, when he was young.

Ishiguro uses the first person narrative, which serves him great in weaving a story about memory and how unreliable and manipulated (manipulating too) it can be. I missed the first hints of Banks’s embellished memory of himself as he confesses his annoyance at his friend James Osbourne’s comment, “My goodness, you were such an odd bird at school.” His own recollection was that he was not a loner, and that he “blended perfectly into English school life.” These clashing recollections of his childhood give us reason to doubt the accuracy of Banks’s memory and his overstated opinion of himself. Yet this failing is not an end in itself – we find ourselves questioning why he feels the need to do so, and why he feels the need to return to Shanghai to “save” his parents, who in his mind are still being held by kidnappers after so many years, waiting for him to return.

This is why When We Were Orphans is a sad and haunting story. His parents’ disappearance, which had the effect of leaving him “orphaned”, has had a profound effect on him, beginning with his decision to become a detective (he and his friend Akira in their childhood played detectives in quest to find his parents in the first few weeks following their disappearance). Allusions are also made of his obsession in school to become a detective – which, according to his recollection, he tried his best to hide – through his classmates’ comments: “But surely he’s rather too short to be a Sherlock.” Finding his parents becomes his life mission, a revelation that of course comes late in the book:

“My sense is that she is thinking of herself as much as me when she talks of a sense of mission, and the futility of attempting to evade it. Perhaps there are those who are able to go about their lives unfettered by such concerns. But for those like us, our fate is to face the world as orphans, chasing through long years the shadows of vanished parents. There is nothing for it but to try and see through our missions to the end, as best we can, for until we do so, we will be permitted no calm.”

Here Banks speaks of Sarah Hemmings, whom he had feelings for, and who too has a sense of mission in life. But when she realizes that it is “too late” for her, she abandons it and tries to take Banks along in her escape. He nevertheless fails to overcome the need to find his parents, and the latter part of the book reeks of bleak desperation.

I have tried to understand Jennifer’s role in the book to not much success. Perhaps Banks took her in his care to save her from her similar experience of being orphaned. Indeed, he agonizes over leaving her, in his mind another act of abandonment and failing, when he decides to go to Shanghai. A passing reference is made indicating that she attempted suicide following his long absence, perhaps feeling “doubly orphaned.”

In the background of this deeply emotional story are of course broader themes such as the destructive opium trade, colonialism, war, high society, and what Banks saw as prevarications of the elite. A grotesque picture is painted of a party in the International Settlement while Japanese shelling of poorer regions around it is ongoing; each explosion provokes “a few ironic cheers”, comforted by “no chance of any of that coming over here.”

It is, I suppose, difficult writing a sad story without overwhelming the reader with sadness in the prose or the plot. What I like most about this book is its clinical reserve – one isn’t emotionally burdened or drained while reading it. The sadness and haunt inherent in the story are only apparent upon reflection, after which one’s breath is taken away by the masterpiece.

Picture credit: Goodreads