Book Review: A Pale View of Hills, Kazuo Ishiguro

 A Pale View of Hills, Kazuo Ishiguro

My rating: 3

Read: 22 February - 14 March 2026

Book of 2026: 6

Kazuo Ishiguro’s highly acclaimed debut, first published in 1982 , tells the story of Etsuko, a Japanese woman now living alone in England, dwelling on the recent suicide of her daughter. 

Retreating into the past, she finds herself reliving one particular hot summer in Nagasaki when she and her friends struggled to rebuild their lives after the war. But as she recalls her strange friendship with Sachiko - a wealthy woman reduced to vagrancy - the memories start to take on a disturbing cast.

I read The Remains of the Day for my English Literature A Level and found it difficult to get through, but ended up writing a first rate essay contrasting it with P.G. Woodhouse (tooting my own horn for a brief, rare second). Anyway, Ishiguro has always been an author I wanted to return to, having contemplated The Remains of the Day since finishing it and finding myself unable to shake the impact of it. I think I’ve seen Never Let Me Go but can’t really remember, but I’ve just known I needed to return. 

Whilst in Daunt Books in Hampstead Heath I found this in the Asia section and it tickled my interest, having explored more Japanese fiction over the years. This was an interesting read (take a shot every time I say that in a book review. It usually means I haven’t thought about what I’m going to say). 

This is Ishiguro’s first novel, and is thought to be his love letter to Japan, a reconciliation to his heritage. I don’t know if I really enjoyed reading it, but then I don’t know if you’re supposed to enjoy Ishiguro. 

We’re immediately set up with Etsuko and her daughter, in England, and we’re in Etsuko’s eyes as she perceives Niki and remembers a summer long ago back in Japan. We are then transported back to Nagasaki, to a younger, and pregnant, Etsuko. We meet the people in Etsuko’s life - Sachiko, the woman she has an obsession with. Sachiko exists as a sort of anchor to the story, with lots of the narrative and Etsuko’s reflections revolving around her, and her daughter Mariko. 

We also meet Jiro, Etsuko’s stroppy man-child of a husband (but seemingly not Nikki’s father? But this is never really explained). Ogata-San, Jiro’s father that Etsuko has some kind of unexplained close relationship with. Mrs Fujiwara, Etsuko’s friend who runs her own noodle shop whose presence never really makes itself clear. 

This book was full of lots of repetition, which does give it a gothic sense of the past returning to the present. People repeat themselves multiple times. The characters are dripping in repression, not wishing to infringe on other people’s lives. And yet, Etsuko sort of forces herself into Sachiko’s life, with the idea that she is worried about the welfare of her daughter. 

Sachiko herself is a terrible mother, with mood switches, and constantly changing plans. She is condescending to Etsuko, constantly telling her not to worry, not to think certain ways, and uses her status as a mother to condescend upon the merely pregnant Etsuko. She is exhausting to read. Why either of them spend any time together is not clear. They don’t seem to enjoy the relationship - is it just to cure their loneliness? Their need for female companionship? Perhaps. I found myself wishing to return to the much more interesting present-day timeline tension between Nikki and her mother. 

We have moments of confusion where it isn’t sure which daughter Etsuko is talking about, or remembering. We hear of Meiko, Etsuko’s first daughter who we learn has taken her own life. We never hear too much about her, but she exists in a thin veil throughout the story, ever present but never in full opacity. Lines blur between Meiko, Nikki, and Mariko. Stories blend and Etsuko’s memory seems dream-like at times. She is thinking, so we’re in her head, but she’s also telling us the story, so it isn’t completely clear that she is always honest in her narration. Whether that be with the reader, or with herself. 

I would like to read more Ishiguro, having seen Klara and the Sun do the rounds on “booktok”, but I’m not sure how soon I’ll be able to return to Ishiguro’s writing style. That’s not in any way to say this book wasn’t well written. It just felt like I was trudging along, dragging my feet through the story, despite not taking too long to read it.