It just goes on and on getting weirder and weirder until you want to use the hefty thing to bash yourself over the head.
The story goes that Ryder arrives in a generic European city with no idea where he is, why he is there or who he is. An interesting premise but one which fails to deliver again and again. The whole thing is written like one of those never-ending dreams where you’re constantly going through impossible doors and realising you’re late for appointments you don’t remember making.
I presumed that some of the other characters were supposed to represent Ryder’s family or his younger self but there was so little cohesiveness that it was hard to follow at the best of times and hard to care at the worst. And don’t bother waiting for explanations because that’s the last thing Ishiguro is ever going to give you. I waded through the whole thing hoping that all would suddenly become clear but it never did.
In short: do not read this book, it will take whole days off your life that you will never get back and it will do nothing but frustrate and annoy you.