Contemporary Never After...

Kazuo Ishiguro's Never let me go is at large extent, only hip and falls terribly short of brilliant. But I hate to admit that my concentration seldom wanes, as beneath a schoolgirl charm-coated story board, a sinister plot warps I am sure, waiting to explode. I can’t help thinking that I am too old for this though. Sour grapes, you said? – Maybe, so much for popular fiction. And the prose leaves much to be desired. Kawabata projected his poetic imagery in Beauty and Sadness almost at will. Even Kafka’s The Castle exalts a profound penchant for outlandishness instantly. Or perhaps, the age of the setting in the latter gives the imagination an extra lift. Ok, contemporary fiction is out then after Never.