A review by rbcp82
An Artist of the Floating World by Kazuo Ishiguro

5.0

I consider Ishiguro's "The Remains of the Day" one of the top 10 novels I read in my life. It seems like "An Artist of the Floating World" is the passage up to the perfection that was "The Remains of the Day," I enjoyed this second novel by Ishiguro just as much.

The similarity between two novels does not end in their style; their theme as well. It is that we need certain amount of self-asserted illusion to go on in this life. Without illusion (if one leans merely on rationality and clarity), one will go crazy because we are not made to handle life as it is. The main character, Ono, holds onto his illusion, albeit there are certain momentary disillusionment.

This is the most important passage from the novel:
"But even as he uttered such words, there remained something in Matsuda's manner that afternoon to suggest he was anything but a disillusioned man. And surely there was no reason for him to have died disillusioned. He may indeed have looked back over his life and seen certain flaws, but surely he would have recognized also those aspects he could feel proud of. For, as he pointed out himself, the likes of him and me, we have the satisfaction of knowing that whatever we did, we did at the time in the best of faith. Of course, we took some bold steps and often did things with much single-mindedness; but this is surely preferable to never putting one's convictions to the test, for lack of will or courage." 201-202

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Quotes:

The finest, most fragile beauty an artist can hope to capture drifts within those pleasure houses after dark. And on nights like these, Ono, some of that beauty drifts into our own quarters here. But as for those pictures up there, they don't even hint at these transitory, illusory qualities. They're deeply flawed.
I was very young when I prepared those prints. I suspect the reason I couldn't celebrate the floating world was that I couldn't bring myself to believe in its worth. Young men are often guilt-ridden about pleasure, and I suppose I was no different. I suppose I thought that to pass away one's time in such places, to spend one's skills celebrating things so intangible and transient, I suppose I thought it all rather wasteful, all rather decadent. It's hard to appreciate the beauty of a world when one doubts its very validity. P. 150

Sensei, it is my belief that in such troubled times as these, artists must learn to value something more tangible than those pleasurable things that disappear with the morning light. It is not necessary that artists always occupy a decadent and enclosed world. My conscience, Sensei, tells me I cannot remain forever an artist of the floating world. P. 180