I usually really react well to J.M. Coetzee’s work (see Disgrace). Elizabeth Costello (2003) is a very strange novel.
There are two dominant modes in the book: one is a series of lectures given by the eponymous lead character; the other is more traditionally fictive, covering her travels and reflections towards the end of her life.
The fictional Costello wrote a single great work, a retelling of Ulysses from the perspective of Molly Bloom, and the core of the novel are her attempts to come to grips with the gap between that single achievement and the rest of her intellectual life (which is much deeper and wide-ranging). It closes with two reconciliations: one with a sister she has not seen in decades; the other with a jury to whom Costello must prove her worthiness of passing through “the gate.”
Neither goes quite as hoped. The former provides the most striking moments in the writing; the latter is an intellectual exploration of the nature of truth and change, and whether either is actually required or possible.
It is an interesting book, but a minor one, more slow and thought-provoking than gripping or deeply engaging.