Slow Man – J M Coetzee

Read August 2015
This is a study of age, loneliness and what makes a good life. It tells the simple story of Paul Raiment who has his leg amputated after a cycling accident. Already an ageing man, the accident isolates him and leaves him longing for contact, but too embarrassed to get in touch with his old friends, who are already few and far between.

He falls for Marijana Jovik, his nurse, a Croatian, and foolishly declares his love to her. He eventually offers to pay for her son, Drago, to attend a private school and bails out her older daughter from a minor offence. His declaration of love – entirely unrequited – briefly drives a wedge between the family members but not for long. Her full family life, with both quarrels and love, stand in stark contrast to his solitary life and they come together, with Paul remaining outside, alone and a figure of pity and amusement.

The plot is complicated by the appearance of an ageing novelist, Elizabeth Costello, who camps out at Paul’s house and provides a running commentary on the desperation and loneliness of him as a childless single man.

As a narrative device Costello works well, and adds a level of entertainment that, without her, would have meant for a narrower and sadder book. But nevertheless she is an odd addition – how does she got into it, and where does she come from?

As well as the themes of ageing and the question of what makes a good life (alone and negatively free or embedded in tying but meaningful relationships) is the issue of invention in the novel. There’s a striking point when Paul describes his leg as a loss, as if he is now his old self but minus something, whereas Elizabeth (I think it’s her) says a different way to look at it is that he’s entered a new stage and he’s become something new.

It resonates with the idea that we are always ‘becoming’ found in the philosophy of Foucault or Deleuze. This is echoed in the lives of the Joviks too, who have moved to Australia but their lives, rather than replicating their old ones or starting afresh, instead become something new that emerges and grows from the old and the new together.

Without ever saying it, then, Coetzee manages to write a study in ageing and loneliness that addresses major philosophical questions about how a life changes over time and what makes a good life.


Steve Toltz – A Fraction of the Whole  


Read June 2014

Wow, 700 pages long, an incredible book. It’s a roller coaster like story about Jasper, his Dad and an assortment of family members and friends. The plot is full of murder, arson, crime, philosophising, just-believable scenes and characters, and surprises that few writers could pull off. It’s a gripping story. Throughout it we follow Jasper’s relationship and journey with his Dad, Martin, both of whom are philosophical, socially awkward, verging on sociopathic. They are tied together by love / hate, a shared disbelief at the mundanity of the world and an inability to do anything differently. Jasper is continually haunted by his Dad’s larger than life personality, whilst Martin is constantly haunted by his brother, Terry Dean, a national legend who killed tens of sports stars for corrupt behaviour.

Ultimately, this is a kind of existential novel: it asks questions about how to live, why live, how to be a person, what’s acceptable and what’s not, how constrained people should  by social conventions, whether its better to live a remarkable immoral life or a conventional moral one . . .

One of the big themes is the struggle to find an identity. Jasper and Martin both have big personalities defined in both similarity and opposition to their other. They spend the book agonising, with Jasper in particular at times hating his Dad, at times loving him, at times accepting he’s like him, at times not. It has fantastic psychoanalytical insights. The other big theme is the smallness and largeness of the world. A huge story about big places (Australia and the Asia Pacific) and big ideas (identity, what life’s for, why live), the characters are few: Jasper, Martin, Terry, Carol (Martin’s first love), Eddie (Martin’s best friend / Terry’s spy). It seems to say: there’s so much to the world and, although we feel so overwhelmed by it, we in fact only touch and know a fraction.