Perhaps the most important theme in the novel is that of love, care, and donation. “Care” and “donation” might be interpreted each in two ways. In the first, technical definition, care is that which a carer provides to a donor—the kind of human interaction a donor needs when facing the pain of organ donation. And “donation” refers either to the giving away of organs or, earlier, at Hailsham, to the giving away of art—which, Kathy realizes, is a process of education for the clones, so that the guardians are constantly reminding the young clones of their duties to “give away” and “give selflessly” as a precursor to their enforced obligation to give up their organs.
In particular, art is considered a “representation” of the students, a “part of them.” Thus, the donation of art conditions the students to the necessity of “giving away a part of themselves.” From a young age, then, Kathy acknowledges that the clones have been educated to find the “donation of a part of themselves” to be integral to their lives. Kathy also admits that she knew, intuitively, even in youth, that this made the students at Hailsham special, different from the rest of (non-cloned) society. Because of the centrality of art-class and the donation of art to other students, Hailsham students are trained to believe that their eventual donation of organs is a continuation of this spirit of giving. Similarly, the act of caring for their donors, in the position of carer, is considered a kind of social obligation, just as giving and appreciating the art of their fellow-students was a facet of life at Hailsham.
But, of course, care and donation have broader definitions as well. Kathy truly does care for Tommy and for Ruth, and her “caring” for them means not just fulfilling her job’s duties, but rather, it implies a genuine connection, and an attempt to mend the rifts of the past. Kathy and Tommy give their bodies, their time, and their trust to one another; Ruth’s primary act of generosity is to acknowledge that she has always come between Kathy and Tommy’s relationship. Kathy realizes that she loves Tommy—that she always has—and that this love, and this bond also with Ruth, are the things that make life worthwhile.
Kathy also has a genuine love and reverence for Hailsham, the place that made them all feel safe as youths. Although Kathy understands that she cannot have a normal, non-clone life—a life symbolized by the song “Never Let Me Go,” which Kathy imagines to involve a mother talking to her child—Kathy nevertheless constructs a meaningful life based on loving, caring interactions with Ruth and Tommy. Only in giving herself to them, and accepting the things they have given to her, does Kathy come to realize the emotional “realness” of her otherwise circumscribed existence.
Loving, Caring, and Donation ThemeTracker
Loving, Caring, and Donation Quotes in Never Let Me Go
So I reached forward and put a hand on his arm. Afterwards, the others thought he’d meant to do it, but I was pretty sure it was unintentional. His arms were still flailing about, and he wasn’t to know I was about to put out my hand. Anyway, as he threw up his arm, he knocked my hand aside and hit the side of my face.
Well . . . . The thing is, it might sound strange. It did to me at first. What she said was that if I didn’t want to be creative, if I really didn’t feel like it, that was perfectly all right. Nothing wrong with it, she said.
The gallery Tommy and I were discussing was something we’d all of us grown up with. Everyone talked about it as though it existed, though in truth none of us knew for sure that it did.
I accepted the invisible rein she was holding out, and then we were off, riding up and down the fence, sometimes cantering, sometimes at a gallop. I’d been correct in my decision to tell Ruth I didn’t have any horses of my own, because after a while with Bramble, she let me try her various other horses one by one, shouting all sorts of instructions about how to handle each animal’s foibles.
When it came down to it, though, I don’t recall our taking many practical steps towards defending Miss Geraldine; our activities always revolved around gathering more and more evidence concerning the plot itself.
I froze in shock. Then within a second or two, I began to feel a new kind of alarm, because I could see there was something strange about the situation. The door was almost half open . . . but Madame hadn’t nearly come up to the threshold. She was out in the corridor, standing very still . . . . And the odd thing was she was crying. It might even have been one of her sobs that had come through the song to jerk me out of me dream.
The problem, as I see it, is that you’ve been told and not told. You’ve been told, but none of you really understand, and I dare say, some people are quite happy to leave it that way. But I’m not. If you’re going to have decent lives, then you’ve got to know and know properly. . . . Your lives are set out for you. You’ll become adults . . . and before you’re even middle-aged, you’ll start to donate your vital organs. That’s what each of you was created to do.
And you didn’t want to do it in the fields even when it was warm enough, because you’d almost certainly discover afterwards you’d had an audience watching from the house passing round binoculars. In other words, for all the talk of sex being beautiful, we had the distinct impression we’d be in trouble if the guardians caught us at it.
Don’t you realize, we won’t be here together like this much longer?
I do realize that, Kath. That’s exactly why I can’t rush back into it with Ruth. We’ve got to think about the next move really carefully . . . . Like you say, Kath. We’re going to be leaving here soon. It’s not like a game any more. We’ve got to think carefully.
For the first weeks after we arrived, she [Ruth] made a big deal of it, always putting her arm around Tommy . . . it wasn’t long before Ruth realized the way she’d been carrying on with Tommy was all wrong for the Cottages, and she set about changing how they did things in front of people.
The point about Chrissie—and this applied to a lot of the veterans—was that for all her slightly patronizing manner towards us when we’d first arrived, she was awestruck about our being from Hailsham. It took me a long time to realize this.
We all know it. We’re modeled from trash. Junkies, prostitutes, winos, tramps. Convicts, maybe, just so long as they aren’t psychos. That’s what we come from. We all know it, so why don’t we say it?
Well . . . I really wanted to find it [the cassette tape] for you. And when it looked in the end like it wasn’t going to turn up, I just said to myself, one day I’ll go to Norfolk, and I’ll find it there for her.
The lost corner of England! And here we are!
God, Tommy, these must take so much concentration. I’m surprised you can see well enough in here to do all this tiny stuff. I wonder what Madame would say if she saw these.
I suppose I’ll have to get a lot better before she gets to see any of it.
Well, Kathy, what you have to realize is that Tommy doesn’t see you like that. He really, really likes you, he thinks you’re really great. But I know he doesn’t see you like, you know, a proper girlfriend. Besides, you know how Tommy is. He can be fussy . . . . Tommy doesn’t like girls who’ve been with . . . well, you know, with this person and that.
It was that exchange, when we finally mentioned the closing of Hailsham, that suddenly brought us close again, and we hugged, quite spontaneously, not so much to comfort one another, but as a way of affirming Hailsham, the fact that it was still there in both of our memories.
I’d like you to forgive me, but I don’t expect you to. Anyway, that’s not the half of it, not even a small bit of it, actually. The main thing is, I kept you and Tommy apart. That was the worst thing I did. . . . What I want is for you to put it right. Put right what I messed up for you.
I was thinking about back then, at Hailsham, when you used to go bonkers like that, and we couldn’t understand it. We couldn’t understand how you could ever get like that. . . . I was thinking maybe the reason you used to get like that was because at some level you always knew.
. . . That’s a funny idea. Maybe I did know, somewhere deep down. Something the rest of you didn’t.
. . . and if I waited long enough, a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field, and gradually get larger until I’d see it was Tommy, and he’d wave, maybe even call. . . . and though the tears rolled down my face, I wasn’t sobbing . . . I just waited a bit, then turned back to the car, to drive off to wherever it was I was supposed to be.