Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Buried Giant Is a Tender Meditation on Memory
The action may be slow, but that’s the point.
I recently had time to slow things down and read a book that had been sitting on my shelf for months: Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Buried Giant.
The plot is simple enough. It’s a fantasy novel set in Britain just after the reign of King Arthur and follows a married couple, Axl and Beatrice, on their journey to visit their son. However, an amnesia-inducing mist has covered the land for some time, and they cannot remember much about him. Along the way, they travel with a Saxon warrior, his young charge, and a legendary knight — all of whom discover and confront the true source of the mist — and begin to remember their personal and shared memories.
The action in The Buried Giant may be slow, but that’s the point.
This tale is a melancholic, beautiful exploration of the power of memory and the act of forgetting. Its themes center around the notion of memory as a double-edged sword — that it is both a blessing and a curse. Let’s take a look at how Ishiguro’s novel approaches this tension and what we can take from it.
Memory as a Blessing
For Axl and Beatrice, the blessing of memory remains at the forefront of their minds. While they regularly raise concerns about how their relationship could change once they begin to remember events from their shared past, they support one another in these moments of doubt. When Beatrice is asked whether she would willingly remember even the bad memories, she fearlessly affirms:
“We’ll have the bad ones come back too, even if they make us weep or shake with anger. For isn’t it the life we’ve shared?”
And it’s this willingness to remember all memories, good and bad, that not only drives the characters forward but emphasizes the value of memories. For instance, Axl expresses concern at sharing an unpleasant memory with Beatrice, but she does not hesitate to say that any memory at all is invaluable and meant to be cherished:
“With this mist upon us, any memory’s a precious thing and we’d best hold tight to it.”
And many of us can sympathize with this. Our memories are among the most precious things we have. They tell us who we are. They build and shape our identities, relationships, and worldview. Without memory, we would have little ability to sort out which experiences have shaped the people we’ve become. In this way, each memory is a blessing, regardless of whether it brings pain or pleasure. I suspect Beatrice’s point is that memories are blessings for the sense of continuity they provide. Imagine being robbed of memories — how would you define yourself? Without that anchor, much is in doubt. We use memory to measure our experiences and to compare new trials and tribulations. Perhaps the greatest blessing memory gives us is this: an ability to weather storms. In this respect, memories mediate our lives, raise flags when appropriate, and allow us to move forward with context.
Memory as a Curse
As precious as memory may be, there’s an undeniable tension between memories that are pleasurable, exciting, and joyful and those that bring pain, anger, and resentment. For instance, as much as Axl and Beatrice support one another, there are moments when an unpleasant memory sours their relationship for a time:
“Even so, husband, they’re remembrances to make me shrink from you. When we’ve finished resting here […] let me walk a little way in front and you behind, […] for I’ll not welcome your step beside me now.”
Now, a few characters in the novel are completely unaffected by the amnesia-inducing mist, and the Saxon knight Wistan is one of them. His immunity offers an interesting point of exploration. For Wistan, his memories of the wars between the Britons and the Saxons curse him and motivate his actions. Despite the camaraderie he shares with Axl, Beatrice, and Gawain, in his mind they are all still Bretons. Therefore, they deserve contempt and retribution for their people’s historical crimes. This belief manifests most noticeably when Wistan asks Edwin to pledge to always carry hatred for Bretons in his heart.
Wistan is but one example of people manipulating memory for their own ends. The source of the amnesia-inducing mist comes from the machinations of King Arthur and Merlin. Fearing the bloody conflict between the Britons and Saxons would be endless, after massacring Saxon soldiers and civilians, Arthur and Merlin used the dragon Querig to produce the mist. By robbing the land of memory, they brought about peace. However, the powerful deciding what the collective should remember can only create more problems. Axl expresses this concern with a warning:
“Who knows what will come when quick-tongued men make ancient grievances rhyme with fresh desire for land and conquest?”
Even a casual student of history knows how collective memory has been leveraged for economic and political gains. We’ve seen how demagogues have been able to tap into these memories and manipulate them for their own advantage. And when we have little time to stay informed, the opportunities for manipulation escalate — suddenly we “remember” things through a lens that someone else has forced on us. When the responsibility of memory has been taken by propagandists, they have the power to pick and choose what is remembered and what is forgotten.
Beyond this broader look, our own personal, painful memories can continue to haunt and hurt us. As much as memories can be a blessing, many of us have wished to forget pain — no matter how much it informs our experiences. For instance, we might think we’re over something, only to have an insignificant occurrence bring back the unpleasant memory in full, vivid detail. In this respect, memories can curse our present selves, taking us away from enjoying the world around us. They perpetuate pain, affect others, and prohibit us from moving forward.
Reconciling Our Memories
So how do we reconcile this double-edged sword of memory? Ishiguro’s The Buried Giant offers an answer: allowing yourself to forget initiates the process of forgiving.
“Could it be our love would never have grown so strong down the years had the mist not robbed us the way it did? Perhaps it allowed old wounds to heal.”
Because the amnesia-inducing mist forces memory loss on the land, the characters have lost the good and the bad memories from their pasts. By the end of the novel, Axl comes to realize that this forgetting is what allowed him and Beatrice to develop their relationship. Despite the return of unpleasant, painful memories, Axl stays true to his earlier pledge to Beatrice:
“Besides, the feeling in my heart for you will be there just the same, no matter what I remember or forget.”
So, The Buried Giant asks us to consider our memories, both those that bring pain and those that bestow pleasure. Had Axl and Beatrice held on to many of their unpleasant memories, the strength of their love would likely not have had an opportunity to grow. While all memories are precious, not all need be kept.
