Disgrace – The Book that Started It All
by eusebiusandflorestan
Florestan suggested I read J.M. Coetzee’s Disgrace upon discovering my amateur interest in literature, having quite enjoyed it herself. Upon reading it and discussing my thoughts with learned colleague Florestan, I agree with her positive assessment of the book. Technically speaking, it is exceptionally well, written, fluent without being vapid, and detailed without being clotted. For the purposes of this review since we have both read the book, I will simply hit upon some aspects of it I found particularly appealing.
Given my academic pretensions, I often try to read book through my chosen field of political science (with some historical thought thrown in). Disgrace proves a particularly fruitful subject for political and historical analysis. Many of the themes explored in the book are rooted in various political or historical contexts and debates, some are universal, while others are more particular to Coetzee’s home country,South Africa. The first and perhaps most obvious of these are gender relationships. The protagonist, David Lurie, is a middle aged, divorced professor of literature whose problematic relationships with women set the plot in motion. Lurie satiates his sexual desires and masculine insecurities by purchasing sex; when the artificiality of this solution eventually proves unsatisfying, he pursues a relationship with one of his students. The unravelling of this affair and resulting disgrace (ta-dah) lead to his censure and dismissal. Lurie chooses to spend his exile with his daughter Lucy, who is trying to make a hardscrabble living in rural South Africa. Their relationship has a different component, while Lurie’s relationships with other women tend to largely be sexual; he is quite protective toward his daughter.
Lurie’s relationships cause him problems in two ways. First, by being unable have a reasonably fulfilling relationship, his unquenched desires tend to result in poor and ethically dubious decisions. Conversely, his coddling attitude towards Lucy reveals the essential hypocrisy of his earlier dalliances. When an act of horrific violence is perpetrated upon himself and Lucy, he is unable to comprehend the reasoning that motivated the perpetrators, despite the similar nature of his motivations earlier in the book and the likeness of the final result upon the family of the student he seduced.
To my mind, the book is a criticism of gender relations inSouth Africa. Lurie and Petrus, the other somewhat developed male character, tend to view women almost strictly as sexual objects or virtual property. When in the dénouement Petrus offers to ‘marry’ Lucy to gain her property, with the ancillary benefit of protecting her from future acts of physical and sexual harm, it is really no less disturbing than Lurie’s rather lurid patronage of prostitutes or perusal of barely post-pubescent paramours.
I’ve winged on long enough, but this is a very thought provoking book. Perhaps if time allows I’ll do follow-ups concerning the other themes I see in the work. In the meantime, what do you think about gender relations as portrayed in the book, Floristan? Or any other thoughts about big themes etc. you would like to bring up? I’d love to read your thoughts as always!
eusebiusandflorestan 
Thank you for sharing your interesting thoughts on this book! To be honest, and this might be embarrassing, but I actually did not think much about the (obvious) gender theme of this book. My focus was more on what in general is to be regarded as right or wrong. In the beginning of the book, Professor Lurie, the protagonist, is indeed up to morally questionable behaviour. However, I cannot help instantly sympathise with/like him already from the start. Even if Lurie’s actions are as immoral as those of other characters in the book (which he condemn), you have as a reader access to his mind and therefore… you like him? At least I did. And then judging his behaviour neutrally becomes difficult, I find. I don’t know if this made much sense….
I have three questions to you Eusebius: (1) Did you like Lurie and if yes, are you more forgiving regarding his actions in comparison to other’s? (2) Is it possible to have access to someone’s mind and not like the person? (3) You write that Lurie has “masculine insecurities”. Do you think that’s true? 😉
That’s a very interesting insight – I think we as readers tend to identify with the protagonists of a given work, and Lurie was certainly filled that role here. However, to answer question one, I really see him as something of an anti-hero. He comes off as opinionated, short-sighted, unreflective, and irredeemable throughout the book in my opinion. He didn’t learn anything from his experiences – despite everything that happened, the end of the book sees him still vainly lusting after his student and turning to prostitution to fix his problems. As he himself mentions, Lurie is an old dog than cannot be taught new tricks, which I think is to his detriment.
I think the answer to question 2 is a resounding yes. One example I would give is Nabokov’s ‘Lolita’ where we are given a very intimate view of the protagonist, but he’s a horrible, horrible, horrible person in virtually every respect. Familiarization with him breeds contempt at best and horror at worst. I don’t think Lurie is quite at the same level, but he’s very misguided and deeply misanthropic.
For 3, I think that’s one of the big themes of the book. At the open, he worries a lot about his appearance and talks about how he turned to prostitution when his looks began to fail. When he sleeps with Bev Shaw, he’s rather contemptuous of her appearance but regretfully thinks persons of her physical caliber will be the only type allowed to him in his aged state. The way he treats Lucy also reflects masculine insecurities in various ways, he’s clearly somewhat nostalgic for a time when she was his ‘little girl’ and has problems communicating with her as a result.
I have three questions for you in return: (1) Do you think Lurie’s actions are defensible in the book? If so, on what basis? (2) Do you think there are parallels between Lurie and the rapists (which he fails to comprehend), as I do? and (3) What is your opinion of the way he treats or views women?
Those were great insights, thank you Floristan!
Good answers! Well expressed. I particularly liked your answer on his masculine insecurities. I think you’re absolutely right. Answer to your question 1: No, I don’t think Lurie’s actions are defensible. Not at all. And to question 3: I totally agree with you on his way with women. Extremely poor. On the line of psychopathic behaviour, I would say. Still, my relationship with Lurie is more complicated than that. I still like him! Even if I don’t want to. I cannot help sympathise with him quite strongly.
Maybe I am saying this as a consequence of my point of view that people are in much less control over their actions than what we generally tend to think. I do believe in free will- but within borders that are more limited than what society (what a non-specific term..) of today admit.
The problem with this argument (or rather; with me!) is that I tend to use it in the way that suits me (!). When people are committing “moral crimes” of a certain kinds, I blame them as if they have control over their actions. However, when people commit “moral crimes” of other kinds, I tend to think that it was beyond their free will. Perhaps I unconsciously think the first group of moral crimes are worse.
This is somewhat disturbing to me: I feel like I understand Lurie. I cannot blame him as much as I would like. I feel like certain things are beyond his control. Does it mean I do not see his crimes as being disturbing enough? I certainly do not want this to be the case.
To my defence: Sometimes you can like people because they are interesting and not because they are “good people.” This is very obvious, and sad but true.
To question 2: I definitely see parallels. To me, the difference of the two crimes of the book are of degree and not kind. One situation is of physical character and the other of mental character; no victim can refuse. And here, I think there is another really interesting theme: Power!
I agree that power is an excellent theme for further discussion in this book, perhaps it can be the subject of the next thread. Your discussion of free will and culpability is interesting. One thing that makes it hard to judge for me: we never really learn anything about Lurie’s background and formative experiences. I think if we knew more about how he came to be the way he is it would be easier to make a firm judgement about the level of his culpability. As is, we are presented with him as a fully formed character, and as such I find his failure to reflect on his actions quite problematic in terms of him being culpable. I do agree that he is an interesting character, but I do maintain that many of his actions and attitudes are basically bad and this limits my ability to sympathize with him. While he has reasons for doing what he does, he fails to learn and grow over the course of the book and ends it in a similar state of dissolution as at the start.