I've made several attempts at reviewing this, and like all Ishiguros I've read in the past, I'm having major troubles. It's hard to put my finger on just what it is about his books that make the impact - but for me, there's no doubt that the impact is there.

For most of the book, you read away, and everything's quiet, simple, reflective. The protagonist narrator, Christopher Banks, is telling us about his life - recent events, memories of the past, detailed recollections of his childhood. Some of the memories are not quite clear, as memories often are. Events jump around in time. Our interest is held, we read on knowing all this is leading somewhere... and then wham. Action. Just in the last third of the book, suddenly it's all stops open and everything happens at once. And we get to the last few pages of the novel, finish it, and suddenly we realise that we have come to know Christopher Banks, really know him - what he's like; how he sees himself; how others see him; what has driven him all through life; his motives, ambitions, needs and ideas. And we care. And the ending, which, if told to us as bare bones would be almost meaningless, hits us hard.

Which brings me to so many other cool things about Ishiguro. One is how detailed his writing is, and yet there are many things he leaves unsaid, especially at the end. It leaves us thinking. His style is very distinctive, and consistent across all three Ishiguro books I've read so far. It's deceptively simple, detailed in an almost pedantic way - yet never once gets in the way of the action.

Another cool thing is that this book is an excellent example of an unreliable narrator. I myself don't know whether some of the things Banks tells us are actually 'true' or not. Banks himself seems to believe it utterly, but is he rewriting his own history so that he can deal with it better? Is he having himself on? Or is his memory simply innacurate? Or is it actually true, and the other people he talks to are the mistaken ones? Even during the action scene in the last third, some things seem almost like dream sequences. Could they really be 'true'?

Then there's the character study. Banks is a fascinating person, and as I said before, we come to know him very well. He's full of flaws, contradictions, and little quirks that make him so vulnerable and so, well, human. In the action sequence, his singleness of purpose is depicted wonderfully well, and... well, I'll stop there before I start on the spoilers.

Most of the authors who I really admire are dead - Ishiguro is one of the few exceptions. Vive Ishiguro!

What I liked:
- The writing; it's like velvet. It's the first book I've read of Ishiguro's and I was impressed.

- Character of Sarah Hemmings; the pages with her sizzle.

- The villian; I won't give away the ending, but the bad guy is truly evil and the final confrontation is memorable.

- Setting in Shanghai; the description of imperialism, corruption, and the opium trade were of personal interest.

- The elements of nostalgia, the fogginess of memory, the 'good and evil' of man, lack or loss of parental love in childhood (for several), and the transience of life ... it all adds up to create a unique feeling.

What I disliked:
- There are aspects of the plot which are unbelievable; the delay in starting his investigation back in Shanghai, the odd expectation and certainty of success, an encounter that you'd expect to be one in a million, etc. Perhaps it's meant to all be symbolic of chasing childhood memories and the elusiveness of recovering the 'good days' and parental love, but I think this is a weak point.

- The personal mission to rescue parents and 'clean up Shanghai' seems disproportinately played up as 'root of evil' (head of serpent) relative to the crisis in the world at large. Likely meant as a microcosm and the need to fight evil on small scale to defeat it on a large scale, but it came across as hyperbole to me.

I would recommend the book and debated 4 stars. I think Ishiguro reached just a little too far but I give him credit for the artistry.

Favorite quotes:
"The evil ones are much too cunning for your ordinary decent citizen. They'll run rings around him, corrupt him, turn him against his fellows. I see it, I see it all the time now and it will grow worse. That's why we'll need to rely more than ever on the likes of you, my young friend. The few on our side every bit as clever as they are."

"I think it would be no bad thing if boys like you all grew up with a bit of everything. We might all treat each other a good deal better then. Be less of these wars for one thing. Oh yes. Perhaps one day, all these conflicts will end, and it won't be because of great statesmen or churches or organizations like this one. It'll be because people have changed. They'll be like you, Puffin. More a mixture. So why not become a mongrel? It's healthy."

"So identical were their pitiful whispers, the way their screams gave way to desperate entreaties, then returned to screams, that the notion came to me this was what each of us would go through on our way to death - that these terrible noises were as universal as the crying of newborn babies."

"'Those were splendid days', I said. 'We didn't know it then, of course, just how splendid they were. Children never do, I suppose.'"

"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." ( )

Christopher Banks is a well-respected British detective who seems to approach other people as he does clues, holding them at arm's length and dispassionately examining them. Yet we soon discover there is one unsolved mystery that haunts this rather aloof soul - the disappearance of his parents in Shanghai many years before. Ishiguro lays out a tantilising trail of clues, many of which are the sketchy remnants of Banks' sometimes misremembered childhood. Though the pace is more languid than is typical of a crime novel, the reader is quickly drawn into the quest for answers.

While not always easy to follow, When We Were Orphans is a beautifully written novel which will satisfy fans of Ishiguro and the crime genre alike. ( )

Having just finished this book, I am left slightly frustrated and confused. For the first half of 'When We Were Orphans', I was completely engaged with the main character, enjoying Ishiguro's excellent writing and felt like the plot was building up to an exciting conclusion. However, as others have remarked in their reviews, the plot becomes a bit strange in the second half - I suspect that it deserves further contemplation.

This book is certainly thought-provoking, and Ishiguro's prose is a pleasure to read. The book is cleverly crafted so that nothing is entirely clear to the reader, and you begin to doubt things that you previously accepted as truth. Certainly not the straightforward book that I initially expected, but very enjoyable nonetheless. ( )

Yes, Ishiguro's writing is certainly high quality. Yes, I realize some of the best books ever written require the reader to inhabit the mind of a thoroughly unlikable protagonist (e.g. Lolita). However, when I spend the vast majority of the book wanting the punch the protagonist in the throat and shake him out of his self-absorbed mania...well, that will make enjoying the story far more difficult.

It's odd because Christopher Banks has a great deal in common with another Ishiguro protagonist--Stevens from Remains of the Day. Both leads tragically misinterpreted the world around them and are thoroughly representative of the interwar years in Britain. However, in "Remains," Ishiguro spent the book showing how Stevens's perceptions were flawed and more importantly has STEVENS himself come to the realization. Banks doesn't get what an obtuse asshole he's being until just before the epilogue--then Ishiguro skips ahead a couple of decades.

This isn't a typical bad book because Ishiguro is so talented. His descriptions of war-torn China and the people forced to aid Christopher on his journey are fantastic and I probably would have liked this book more if I was allowed to get out of Christopher's head and into theirs. There are also moments when it sneaks through the narrative that despite Christopher's delusions of grandeur, the world sees him for the damaged person that he is. However, when the author asks you to see the world through the eyes of someone monstrously self-absorbed, these moments do not provide the welcome relief they otherwise could.

If it was just a mediocre book, I would have put it down and never picked it back up. But because the author was so talented, I wanted to believe I would find something in Banks to hold onto besides endless, witless, obtuse self absorption. Unfortunately, that was not to be and I was stuck with the odious Banks to the bitter end. ( )