"The Remains of the Day"

I just finished reading a beautiful little book called "The Remains of the Day," by Kazuo Ishiguro. It is essentially the tale of a butler, who becomes so enveloped in his profession that it affects his views on his personal life - the death of his father, the possibility of love. It's written so consistently in this butler's voice - it feels very natural.

The best (and most beautiful) part about it, though, what how subtle the author was. If you weren't much of a reader and picked up the book it would bore you to tears, because you would be far less likely to pick up on the way the little actions and implications that Mr. Stevens cannot notice - and that drive the story.

And it's so relevant! How many workaholics exist in the world today! Driven by money or passion, it doesn't matter; their work consumes them. And though I picked up on the hints and the foreshadowing in the book, am I blind to these things in my own life? How much do I not see?

It took me ages to read, but it was well worth the time because it needed to sink in. Another book for the ever-growing "reread" pile - I know I'll find more in that one than I did the first time through. It is certainly a new favorite of mine.