Once I got a few pages into Remains of the Day, by Kazuo Ishiguro, I realized I'd read it before. But since I usually remember almost nothing about long ago reads, I figured I'd just read it again.

It is about a classic Brittish butler in his twilight years. He reminises about the good old days, but essentially is in denial about his importance to society. There is a subtle love story too. Although it can ramble, it is a great comentary on being full of yourself and holding your life back for so little. I give it 7 out of 10.