Why 'The Remains of the Day' Is Still the Most Powerful Novel About Regret

Regret is a universal emotion, and few novels capture its quiet devastation as masterfully as Kazuo Ishiguro’s 'The Remains of the Day.' Through the story of Stevens, an aging butler reflecting on a life of service, Ishiguro paints a portrait of a man haunted by the choices he did not make and the words he never spoke.

From the very first pages, readers are drawn into a world where restraint is both a virtue and a curse. The narrative’s structure—alternating between Stevens’s present-day road trip and his recollections of Darlington Hall—mirrors the way regret operates in our lives: always present, always coloring our view of the present with the hues of the past.

One of the most poignant aspects of the novel is the relationship between Stevens and Miss Kenton. Their unspoken love is a testament to the pain of emotional repression. Readers see, again and again, how pride and duty prevent Stevens from reaching out, from allowing himself the happiness that is within his grasp.

The novel also explores the regret that comes from misplaced loyalty. Stevens’s unwavering service to Lord Darlington leads him to support decisions that, in hindsight, are deeply troubling. The realization that he has been complicit in actions he cannot condone is a source of profound sorrow—a reminder that sometimes, regret is not just personal, but moral.

What makes 'The Remains of the Day' so enduring is its refusal to offer easy answers. Instead, it invites readers to sit with their own regrets, to reflect on the roads not taken, and to find, perhaps, a measure of peace in the act of remembering. As Stevens gazes at the sunset in the novel’s final pages, we are left with a sense of bittersweet hope: the past may be unchangeable, but the remains of the day are ours to shape.