somebody wrote, intelligently, here on GR, any given author's works will be hit and miss even for his close fans, and after five full Kazuo Ishiguro works, I find this particularly true. definite hit: Remains of the Day. definite hit: Orphans. merely competent: Never Let Me Go, Pale View of Hills. the notorious* Unconsoled: still in progress, how many years later... ha.
well here we have a hit, a short, microscopically perfect/polished short novel or novella, examining in depth the superficially easy matter of a possibly war collaborator artist and the aspects, relationships, intrigues, betrayals, loyalties surrounding that matter. at 206 pages, of course the work can't compare to Remains of the Day or the slightly less steady When We Were Orphans, but for what it is, it is a definite lifetime keep on the bookshelf. 5/5 solid
* notorious because even professional book reviewers famously aren't entirely sure what the book is about. Ishiguro apparently attempted to go surreal/dreamlike but now nobody actually knows what is happening.