J. M. Coetzee has constructed a slippery novel of ideas around an alter ego character, Elizabeth
Costello. Elizabeth is a novelist in her twilight years (perhaps "old enough to be
beyond embarrassment"), and her story takes the form of eight
chapters plus a coda. In each chapter she confronts some aspect of man's fate, often
personified after a fashion by an intimate relation: her son, her sister, a former lover.
Each chapter has very little story to convey. Rather, in various episodes, Elizabeth tries to clarify
her thoughts
by means of various lectures, say, to a graduating class or as an award acceptance.
(Indeed, the chapters are designated "lessons" in the table of contents.)
This turns out to be more difficult for her than one might think, because
She is not sure, as she listens to her own voice, whether she believes any longer in what she is
saying. Ideas like these must have had some grip on her when years ago she wrote them down,
but after so many repetitions they have taken on a worn, unconvincing air. One the other hand,
she no longer believes very strongly in belief.
Things can be true, she now thinks,
even if one does not believe in them, and conversely.
Belief may be no more, in the end, than a source of energy, like a battery which one clips into
an idea to make it run.
As happens when one writes: believing whatever has to be believed in order to get the job done.
Elizabeth is concerned about cruelty to animals, especially the consumption of their flesh as food; she is
concerned about the horrors of the Holocaust; and she makes some uncomfortable comparisons between
the two issues. She is concerned about what it means to be a writer in Africa; she is concerned
about salvation.
Her path through the book, humanity's path, is an ellipse, with its two foci being suffering and
the exercise of reason.
She alludes to a story by Franz Kakfa about an ape that is trained
to give a speech before a learned society. Though she denies the similarity to herself, Kafka's "Red Peter"
provides the spine of her novel. Later, we identify Red Peter with Joseph, an African craftsman
(who carves exclusively crucifixes)
whom Elizabeth meets when she visits her sister.
Another theme that the book is concerned with is giving a novel's voice to someone who had none before.
Elizabeth's early success as a novelist was gained by The House on Eccles Street, the Ulysses
story from the viewpoint of Molly Bloom.
Coetzee's novel employs a mixture of styles, and I'm not sure
that it's the better for it. While most chapters are straightforwardly realistic (albeit talky),
the first chapter self-consciously skips over sections of the narrative, while the last
chapter enters a supernatural realm.
The book can be read as valedictory for Coetzee, who has published more than a dozen titles.
It rewards attention.
The answer, as far as she can see, is that she no longer believes that storytelling is good in itself....
If she... had to choose between telling a story and doing good, she would rather,
she thinks, do good.
posted:
11:42:05 PM
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