Kazuo Ishiguro’s “A Village After Dark”

From The New Yorker's archive: an intriguing short story in which an older man named Fletcher returns to an English village where he once resided and finds himself haunted by the actions of his past.  ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌   View in browser | Update your preferences     Fiction "A Village After Dark" An old man's search for hospitality in the village of his youth. By Kazuo Ishiguro The writer Neil Gaiman once observed that the work of the novelist Kazuo Ishiguro "remains in the mind long after it has been read, refusing to leave." Ishiguro has published eight books, including "Never Let Me Go" and "The Remains of the Day," which won the Booker Prize in 1989. In 2017, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. Ishiguro is a master of uncanny storytelling and transmuted narratives. In 2001, The New Yorker published Ishiguro's "A Village After Dark," an intriguing short story in which an older man named Fletcher returns to an English village where he once resided and finds himself haunted by the actions of his past. For a while, he wanders the town alone. "I could hardly believe I was in the same village in which not so long ago I had lived and come to exercise such influence. There was nothing I recognized, and I found myself walking forever around twisting, badly lit streets hemmed in on both sides by the little stone cottages characteristic of the area," Ishiguro writes. When Fletcher eventually encounters some villagers, they are anything but welcoming. It's obvious that he once held a position of some repute, and that his previous actions have engendered noxious feelings. As he attempts to cultivate some of his former prestige, an enigmatic figure from his past reappears to lead him even further astray. Ishiguro's prose evokes a languid, dreamlike state, and the mystery about the protagonist deepens as the story unfolds. Ultimately, Ishiguro's tale interrogates the question of whether reason provides greater solace than happiness—and offers an intimate portrait of waning eminence and its repercussions. —Erin Overbey, archive editor More from the Archive     Page-Turner Kazuo Ishiguro, the New Nobel Laureate, Has Supremely Done His Own Kind of Thing From 2017: "The Remains of the Day" is an almost perfect book, and "Never Let Me Go" is one of the central novels of our age. By James Wood     Fiction "Midnight in Dostoevsky" From 2009: "The class was Logic, in Cellblock 2, thirteen of us seated along both sides of a long table . . . ." By Don DeLillo This e-mail was sent to you by The New Yorker. To insure delivery, we recommend adding newyorker@newsletters.newyorker.com to your contacts, while noting that it is a no-reply address. Please send all newsletter feedback to tnyinbox@newyorker.com.    For more from The New Yorker, sign up for our newsletters, shop the store, and sign in to newyorker.com, where subscribers always have unlimited access. Contact us with questions.   View our Privacy Policy. Unsubscribe.   Copyright © Condé Nast 2020. One World Trade Center, New York, NY 10007. All rights reserved.