Community Reviews
Reread for first time since early in grad school.
The story is not for the faint of heart. The best part of the book is the complexity of its moral framework and ambiguity of its characters, especially its central one. There is enough here to support multiple interpretations - to a degree it depicts the scapegoating ritual as a sort of recompense for the sins of history in apartheid South Africa. Its seems to be making an argument that something new is being and needs to be born, and that the cycles of vengeance will play out, but that some sort of integration needs to take place alongside a recognition of guilt and shame. But it also builds a lot of sympathy with a character who largely resists this narrative - he goes through his own disgrace, perpetrates his own version of the thing that happens to his daughter, and does seem to find some kind of atonement, but always resisting out of a habit of idealizing the relations he has with the world around him and the people around him, largely as a mechanism of ignoring the power relations he benefits from and enacts. He does eventually learn to focus on the perspective of others, but the lesson is neither easy nor complete. I love novels like this - full of ideas, but never to the point that they displace the emotions of the characters. Pessimistic about situations that have no apparent hope, but finding ways to be optimistic about our ability to adapt just enough to bear it. Unflinching in presenting morally complex quandaries. Well paced and beautifully written. Highly recommend.
The story is not for the faint of heart. The best part of the book is the complexity of its moral framework and ambiguity of its characters, especially its central one. There is enough here to support multiple interpretations - to a degree it depicts the scapegoating ritual as a sort of recompense for the sins of history in apartheid South Africa. Its seems to be making an argument that something new is being and needs to be born, and that the cycles of vengeance will play out, but that some sort of integration needs to take place alongside a recognition of guilt and shame. But it also builds a lot of sympathy with a character who largely resists this narrative - he goes through his own disgrace, perpetrates his own version of the thing that happens to his daughter, and does seem to find some kind of atonement, but always resisting out of a habit of idealizing the relations he has with the world around him and the people around him, largely as a mechanism of ignoring the power relations he benefits from and enacts. He does eventually learn to focus on the perspective of others, but the lesson is neither easy nor complete. I love novels like this - full of ideas, but never to the point that they displace the emotions of the characters. Pessimistic about situations that have no apparent hope, but finding ways to be optimistic about our ability to adapt just enough to bear it. Unflinching in presenting morally complex quandaries. Well paced and beautifully written. Highly recommend.
Beautiful, poetically written book about a horrible, unlikable man who does awful things, all while smiling and disagreeing that he deserves punishment. Then things go from bad, to worse and really, really bad. Just when you think it couldn't get any worse, the story just goes into more DISGRACE. I really really want to like this book because Coetzee is such a gifted writer. However, it's just so dark and such a tough subject. Muti-dimensional and layered thoughts linger log after you are finished. Disgrace touches everything and everyone in this sad story.
What an amazing read. Coetzee's Disgrace certainly leaves an impression--not necessarily pleasant, but powerful nevertheless. What struck me most is the apparent opposition of David and his daughter Lucy in the light of a dichotomy of the abstract and the physical part of life.
David seems detached from the physical existence in his old university life. Resorting excessively to abstract solutions and way of life, he creates a searing deficit, a scission he seeks to reconcile through his sexual escapades.
He is soon confronted with Lucy's lifestyle, strikingly different from his. Lucy is firmly attached to the physical world, her existence grounded in it, standing with her bare feet on the lands she farms.
The two represent two completely different approaches to life--running sort of in reverse directions. David resorts to the world of culture and ideas and reaching "down" to the more primal and simpler aspects of life "from high above." Building his existence "top to bottom", his relationships turn out as unnatural, complicated, stained with a strange imbalance in social status and power.
On the other hand, Lucy builds her life "bottom up," making sure she grounds it in the direct physical reality, figuring her beliefs and convictions consequently. Her physical relationships, or the lack thereof, are equally twisted and harmful.
Without the attempt to crack Coetzee's sophisticated ethics and "complicated post-coloniality," as David Attwell wrote, in this review, I read the novel as a outline of two different perspectives and ethical approaches, which does not provide clear-cut answers and solutions to follow, but rather asks questions for the reader to ponder.
David seems detached from the physical existence in his old university life. Resorting excessively to abstract solutions and way of life, he creates a searing deficit, a scission he seeks to reconcile through his sexual escapades.
He is soon confronted with Lucy's lifestyle, strikingly different from his. Lucy is firmly attached to the physical world, her existence grounded in it, standing with her bare feet on the lands she farms.
The two represent two completely different approaches to life--running sort of in reverse directions. David resorts to the world of culture and ideas and reaching "down" to the more primal and simpler aspects of life "from high above." Building his existence "top to bottom", his relationships turn out as unnatural, complicated, stained with a strange imbalance in social status and power.
On the other hand, Lucy builds her life "bottom up," making sure she grounds it in the direct physical reality, figuring her beliefs and convictions consequently. Her physical relationships, or the lack thereof, are equally twisted and harmful.
Without the attempt to crack Coetzee's sophisticated ethics and "complicated post-coloniality," as David Attwell wrote, in this review, I read the novel as a outline of two different perspectives and ethical approaches, which does not provide clear-cut answers and solutions to follow, but rather asks questions for the reader to ponder.