Slow Man

Once upon a time, in J. M. Coetzee's novel, Slow Man, there lived a character named Paul. Paul's life turns upside down with the appearance of Elizabeth Costello, the author. Throughout his time spent with Elizabeth Costello, Paul learns how to overcome challenges of telling the truth through stories. Explaining Paul's beliefs, the narrator describes, "he tends to trust pictures more than he trusts words. Not because pictures cannot lie but because, once they leave the darkroom, they are fixed, immutable. Whereas stories... seem to change shape all the time" (64). Each time a story is told, certain aspects may be left out or changed, causing partial truths.


I began this blog post, with "once upon a time" because I noticed this phrase multiple times throughout the novel. Whenever I think about stories that contain "once upon a time," the first thing that pops into my mind is fairy tales. One difference between this novel and a fairy tale is the fact that "once upon a time" appears at the beginning of a story. In the novel, "once upon a time" appears in the body. One can argue that there are smaller stories throughout Slow Man. Readers know this because the narrator begins explanations about Paul's life with "once upon a time." The major difference is that Paul's life is surely not a fairy tale. In fact, his life is the complete opposite and on the different side of the spectrum.

Although there is a sense of conflict involved in the body of a fairy tale, there is always love and a "happily ever after" ending. Paul does not receive a "happily ever after ending." For example, the narrator explains, "Once upon a time his heart was his strongest organ... Then he met Marijana, and his heart suffered a change" (165). Paul fell in love with Marijana, his nurse. Although she did not love him back, Paul's desire for her grew stronger to the point where he wants to take care of her family. Marijana knew Paul supposedly wanted to pay for Drago's education because he wanted to thank her for helping him. In reality, Marijana does not know the truth because the real truth lies within Paul's longing to be with his nurse. By telling this story about Paul's heart, the narrator is showing that Marijana doesn't know Paul loves her secretly, she knows he wants to give back to her. Conflicting notions of Paul's true feelings are now present.

Another instance of the phrase takes place when Elizabeth Costello reminds Paul of when he met Marianna. She explains, "Perhaps once upon a time you took her photograph, and it happened that all your attention was concentrated on the image you were making, not on her, the source of the image" (97). Since Paul does not remember this experience, the readers do not know if Elizabeth Costello is telling the truth. The readers do not know if she is changing the way Paul and Marianna met in order for Paul to believe her story. In an alternative story, Elizabeth Costello may be telling the woman who supposedly played the part of Marianna, "Once upon a time he was head over heels in love with a woman named Marianna, an actress" (116). Here, we have the same situation, but the story has changed for each party involved. In order to get what she wants, Elizabeth Costello has modified the story so Paul and Marianna will meet. Readers will never know what the real story is.


In a discussion with Drago on whether or not Paul hates new things, Paul says, "Everything in the world was, once upon a time, new. Even I was new" (179). This is the same phrase, but used in a different place. Paul is saying his life is a story, "once upon a time I was born." Paul is implying that all of our lives are a story. Even Elizabeth Costello tells Paul, "Once upon a time you were a pale, well-behaved little boy...who took books too seriously" (231). Possibly, all of our lives begin with "once upon a time." Even if they do, our life stories will all be completely different. Maybe if we told our stories through photographs, we would never grow or develop as individual people. We would remain the same, unchanging human beings throughout our lives. Coetzee may be implying that we need to be dynamic characters and live fulfilling lives as we grow older in order to live happily ever after.

Disgrace

As a reader who has respect for the author’s intentions, I truly felt sad as I read about the action David Lurie did not take at the very end of J. M. Coetzee’s Disgrace. Leading up to the end, an affair with a student, being burnt in an attack by intruders, a daughter who was raped but doesn’t want the intruders to be brought to justice, letting unwanted dogs lick his hand, holding the unwanted dogs down as they are being euthanized, and honorably sending the dogs’ bodies through the incinerator, David appeared to be changing. After all that he has been through, I was astonished when David carried the dog, who had grown close to him and howled with the music, into the surgery room to be put to sleep. Bev Shaw asks, “I thought you would save him for another week… Are you giving him up?” In response, David says, “Yes, I am giving him up” (220). David has given up not only on the young dog, but also on himself.

After this small exchange of words, the only question that remains is why did David go through with the euthanasia? Before we can even answer that question, we need to establish the fact that Bev works for the Animal Welfare League and sterilizes and euthanizes because she cares about animals. She helps take care of sick and injured animals. Plus, she also is the only one who will make a dog feel comfortable by putting it to sleep. Although she calls it slaughter, the way Bev accomplishes this terrible fate is by petting, scratching, and talking kindly to the dogs before their disgrace is over and their souls transfer into a graceful world.


There was a time when David had to pull over and cry in his car because he could not get used to the killing of dogs. It seems like David has a newfound respect for Bev’s work because he understands how difficult it is watch a dog walk into a room with its tail wagging and never to walk out again. But then, David wonders if euthanizing a dog is a cruel act or a kind act and whether or not Bev is a “liberating angel or a devil” (144). He even calls himself a “murderer” and lets the dogs lick his hand (143). David’s conflicting feelings about the process of a dog’s disgrace of dying leaves him wanting to honor the corpses but at the same time feeling stupid for being a “dog undertaker.”

Just like the dogs’ corpses burn in the incinerator and his head was burnt by the intruders, David’s meaning of life has dwindled down to ashes. He wants justice in the world. But justice is hard to achieve when all parties are not on board. The unwanted animals, who did nothing wrong, are not brought justice when they are being euthanized. Although they are two completely different situations, just like David’s daughter Lucy did not report her rape, David did not save the dog in the end. Lucy’s rapists are out there in the world living a free life. The dogs, who did not commit a violent act or break a law, are dead. One of Coetzee’s intentions for the novel is to show how rare justice is. David had the total power to save the dog, but he didn’t. I was upset because it was his disgrace or dishonor that an innocent dog died by euthanasia when David gave up. David has given up on finding justice for his daughter, for the dogs, and for himself.