Reading Well: Disgrace by J.M. Coetzee

J.M. Coetzee is one of the great writers of the second half of the twentieth century, so the raw skill and sophistication of Disgrace (1999) are no surprise.

The novel–like much of Coetzee’s writing–can be read as a struggle to make sense of the human cost of South African society, and the context matters quite a bit as the initial themes–middle aged men using their power to have affairs, the search for connection and meaning in bland lives–are more universal than local. But, what comes next, which involves an incident of startling brutality that is shared by father and daughter, can only be understood within the local context.

There is a tension in the novel that remains unresolved to the end: on the one hand, it is the father’s book, told from his perspective and through his eyes; on the other, it is his daughter’s reaction to her rape and his beating which attempts to articulate a different stance towards violence and power in a country caught in the final throes of official apartheid (this is not mentioned directly in the text as much as inferred from the era in which it is set).

Regardless, it’s a moving, poignant book. It does not proffer any answers, easy or otherwise, but it does allow us to stare without flinching at several manifestations of the human condition. That’s pretty strong.

#WhatIWishICouldDo

It would be false to say Coetzee never users metaphors, but it’s pretty close. I rely on evocative descriptions all over the place: to write this directly, this cleanly, yet to do so without sacrificing an iota of emotional impact or sensation just amazes me.