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It's a good one.
Taking advantage of a "captive audience" of international vice-chancellors at the Association of Commonwealth Universities Conference of Executive Heads in Adelaide, Coetzee challenged delegates to consider the role of the schools of humanities and social sciences.
"Should we be worried that the graduating students are equipped to write novels and stories and plays for today's literary market but not well informed about the history of these forms or about what has been achieved in the forms in the past?" Coetzee asked.
"If I asked the corresponding question . . . continue reading, and add your comments
I have too much respect for JM Coetzee as a novelist and a critic to dismiss his two Elizabeth Costello novels as self-indulgent metaphysical hoohaw. Still, even though I think Elizabeth Costello and Slow Man are strong works, I also think they pale in comparison to Disgrace. First off, the latter book simply tells a more engaging story than the other two; beyond that, Disgrace contains a couple scenes of such genuine intensity that I reacted emotionally and physically while reading. (Quite a feat for a man known . . . continue reading, and add your comments
Good article.
ARE my books easy or hard to translate? Sentence by sentence, my prose is generally lucid, in the sense that the syntactic relations among words, and the logical force of constructions, are as clear as I can make them.
On the other hand, I sometimes use words with the full freight of their history behind them, and that freight is not easily carried across to another language. My English does not happen to be embedded in any particular sociolinguistic landscape, which relieves the translator of one vexatious burden; on the other hand, I do . . . continue reading, and add your comments
This piece by Pankaj Mishra must be the best criticism of Slow Man I've yet read.
More acutely than any other contemporary novelist, Coetzee has been aware of the aesthetic difficulty and moral conceit of turning man-made suffering into art. Certainly, his confession of inadequacy is far from the bold assumption Naipaul and Rushdie share even as they argue about what literary form is likely to capture best a vital and diverse human world: the assumption that the individual author has the intellectual and spiritual resources to describe a human condition larger than his own, . . . continue reading, and add your comments
In this week's The New Republic, John Banville turns in a pretty good review of Coetzee's Slow Man.
The interesting thing about the reviews of Coetzee's new book is that whether or not the reviewer liked Slow Man, the reviews all pretty much end with "let Elizabeth Costello die." I concur.
The Complete Review pens the first thing that actually makes me want to read Slow Man (and with me being such a big fan as I am of Coetzee, that really says something about how negative the review coverage has been so far).
So, for those who haven’t been following this, here’s the deal. The first 1/3 of Slow Man is your typical, realist Coetzee. Great stuff. Then on page 79, Elizabeth Costello comes into things. She is, of course, the title character of Coetzee’s previous novel (another metafictional, love it/hate it book). (I also harbor suspicions that . . . continue reading, and add your comments
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Recommended Books DeLillo's major work before White Noise is probably his most underrated novel. Its all right here--the politics of paranoia, terrorism, the unnamable--set in an evocative, timeless Greece.
The most bizarre Abe novel I've yet read, which is indeed saying something. About a subclass of Japanese men who go around wearing boxes from the waist up (and then use them as domiciles in the evening), the book is also an experiment in perspective shifts, a highly unstable, metafictional first-person narrative, and an exploration of voyeurism, consumerism, and aberrant sexuality.
Charting the path to three gunshots--the one that killed filmmaker Theo Van Gogh, the one that disabled his Islamic extremist assassin, Mohammed Bouyeri, and the one that led to Vincent Van Gogh’s one hundred years earlier--Olsen tells three separate stories that resonate with one another on numerous levels: the logic of extremism, the role of the dissident in Dutch society, the limits of tolerance, the purpose of the artist, the feeling of the most important five minutes of your life. Read my interview with the author.
Creatively structured, well-executed epic novel of rural South Africa from 1950 - 2000. Takes on a lot and lives up to it magnificently. Highly recommended.
A book that's an interview about the book you're supposedly holding in your hands. Creative, potent, and full of life. Just what metafiction should be. Read my post on it.
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