I'm not sure what I expected going into this one. I knew the story dealt with clones, organ harvesting and boarding school, so I suppose I was anticipating more Stephen King than Edith Wharton. What I got was a proper 19th century English novel, a perfect contemporary example of the form. Ishiguro offers up a lot of lessons for writers here about creating and sustaining a believable voice, collating events into a coherent narrative, and using dialogue to establish character development. He also somehow manages to spin a tale about sex, diabolical post-war experimentation, and yes, organ harvesting, without spilling a single drop of blood. James Wood reviews it better than I can here.
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