As I progressed reading this book, I was getting angrier and angrier about what main characters talk, think, about questions they ask and (for God’s sake!!!) what they do with their lives. It all is obvious for the reader that what is laid ahead of everyone of the students is a slaughter. Why do they go towards their slaughter like cattle? Why don’t ask straight questions? Why won’t revolt? What do they have to lose? I got very angry and upset with the book until I suddenly heard IT – loudly, straight into my mind, Ishiguro Kazuo was asking me “Do YOU do what you think you absolutely need to do?!” It was like a sudden slap on my face. Before this moment I was angrily thinking “Why miss Lucy, when she came to the conclusion that the students need to know the truth, didn’t give them that truth?”. Now I heard the author saying straight into my mind “Do you always say the truth when you think you need to say truth?” Those calls are the main treasures of this book given by the author almost personally, almost intimately to me.Besides this message I heard Ishiguro’s usual reflections – gentle sadness about this or that feature of our life. In this book, paradoxically, you want the characters fight for their lives, but at the same time you clearly see that our life (without any donations) is the same process – losing health little by little, approaching our death.I also am catching Ishiguro’s question for societies “Do your institutions have conscience?”. The institution of slavery was just like the institution of clone-donors in this book clearly monstrously unfair, but whole societies preferred to keep eyes closed on the monstrosity. And what about the institutions of the future?I wrote the above yesterday. Today is Sunday, it is morning; I woke up still thinking about the book. This time I am thinking not about messages, big meanings of the book, but about the story itself. It is a heart ripping story, but it doesn’t fall on you all at once, as if the author, having mercy on his readers, throws some hopes here and there. In the beginning of the book, even though I understood what “students” are for in that society, I, at the same time, had hope, that their artwork will somehow override their organ donation importance for the society. I didn’t believe until the last pages, that Tommy, Ruth and Kathy indeed will finish their lives donating organs. Ruth’s constant attempts to integrate into “higher” level of their own folks, made me think, that she was smart enough to manipulate them all out of the horrible path. Ruth’s vision of her future, working in the office made me believe it indeed can happen………… Only to see, two days after I finished reading the book, how heartbreaking and straightforward was the illustration of a pitiful condition of “students” when a simple office (work in which wouldn’t produce much desire in anyone) was the brightest possible dream for them. And even this one – absolutely not possible.But the hugest fall into the abyss of desperation fell suddenly in Tommy’s last fear around the statement that sounds through the book from the very beginning “They don’t tell us all”. When miss Lucy tells her students “They don’t tell you all”, I imagined that “telling them all” would make some difference, possibly some way out of the path, and even to some bright paths – life filled with arts….. Only to hear what Tommy has to face “How, maybe, after the forth donation, even if you’ve technically completed, you’re still conscious in some sort of way; how then you find there are more donations, plenty on the other side of that line; how there are no more recovery centers, no carers, no friends; how there’s nothing to do except watch your remaining donations until they switch you off. Its horror movie stuff and most of the time people don’t want to think about it.” As a proof of this last point, Kathy dismissed Tommy’s fear as rubbish.What is the consolation in this book? I can’t quiet understand but there is one for sure, because it doesn’t completely crush you with despair, but leaves you with calm sadness and the desire to wonder.