In ongenade

I was surprised by how much I ended up caring about David Lurie by the end of Disgrace because he is a very unlikable man. Used to taking for granted his 'natural superiority' simply for having been born white and male, as South Africa changes around him, he finds himself increasingly left behind and ridiculed. We first meet Lurie at his weekly visit to a prostitute who he later tracks down away from her work and is amazed that she doesn't want to see him privately. The University's request that he publicly acknowledge his abuse of power seems to baffle him and I loved the meeting scene where he repeatedly dismisses their demands, giving the impression that any criticism of his behaviour, especially from the women on the committee, is beneath his contempt. I know men who think and react just like this! And once away to Lucy's farm, David's realisation that she doesn't need him around certainly brings him up short.

We see all the characters through the filter of David's eyes and it is interesting how they change as the novel progresses. Women, who are purely seen in terms of their physical appearance at the beginning, slowly morph into full people and I was fascinated by David's evolving fear of the black man who initially works for Lucy. When we first meet him, Pollux is simply staff and to be watched simply for his skin colour. By the end, David still mistrusts Pollux, but now for his business acumen and real power within the community.

Coetzee does bring a lot of issues into a relatively short novel and I did sometimes feel hectored as his characters repeatedly hammer home points Coetzee wants to make. While the prose is beautifully stark and wonderful to read, the arguments aren't always presented subtly enough to flow with the story. However I can see why Disgrace has won such high accolades and would certainly agree that it is an insightful glimpse into South Africa at a time of great change.

Si hace varios años a alguna persona bien aficionada a la lectura se le hubiera ocurrido hablarme de Coetzze, mi respuesta me habría dejado absolutamente en ridículo poniendo al descubierto mi tosquedad literaria: -¿Qué es un nuevo sabor de helado?

Por fortuna para mí, otro tosco amigo, en variadas ocasiones ironizaba con sarcasmo en mi presencia sobre la tesis doctoral de su futura (y actual) esposa sobre ni Dios sabe qué escritor sudafricano. Los rebotes de ella eran manifiestos y, como soy en extremo curioso y muy dado a conocer lo desconocido, le pregunté por el nombre, sus obras, su vida y me faltó exigirle sus medidas anatómicas: J. M. Coetzze. También por fortuna para mí, Marichús, que se llama la susodicha, me tiene en alta estima en lo referente a mi bagaje cultural y, ni corta ni perezosa, me regaló "Desgracia". Tardé en leerlo algo más de lo que Usain Bolt corre los 200m.

Y lo curioso es que ni hoy por hoy podría resumir a ciencia cierta de qué trata, porque la novela es tan intensamente profunda y devastadora que nos sugiere y enmarca a cada habitante del mundo; en esa mierdecilla que somos, pero que se niega a creerse merecedora de la más nimia de los desgracias o a atreverse a ver como tal aquello que, con nuestro desprecio a la vida, a la dignidad, al resto de mortales..., nos hemos ganado a pulso. Cada une de nosotres somos David Lurie, en su pecado y en su virtud, y eso nos ha de hacer tener esperanzas en la reconciliación, en el perdón, en el abandono de la culpa...

Y la película de Jacobs tiene pase, por qué no, pero no le llega al libro ni al betún de los zapatos (a la suela, sí).

This wasn't what I thought it was going to be at all.