Mascherato nei panni ingannevoli della riscrittura del famoso romanzo di Daniel Defoe, Foe non è altro che un asfissiante esercizio di stile che usa come pretesto l’esperienza di Robinson Crusoe, stavolta dal punto di vista di una donna, Susan Barton, per lanciarsi in una serie di elucubrazioni mentali sempre più astratte sul ruolo della narrativa e su che cosa sia una storia. In parole povere, un’occasione mancata su tutti gli aspetti.
Poche cose respingono un lettore quanto dover leggere un libro costruito palesemente per ostentare le proprie doti scrittorie e ottenere lodi per le proprie riflessioni sofisticate sul niente: Foe ne soffre terribilmente, e non solo non ha niente di valore da comunicare a chi lo sta leggendo, ma tenta con tutte le sue forze di convincerti del contrario e che tu non sia abbastanza colto da comprenderlo.
La storia viene ridotta all’osso con molti punti oscuri, lo stile è volutamente contorto, non spiacevole, anche se trabocca di pretenziosità fino allo sfinimento ed è appesantito dalle continue divagazioni deliranti di Susan che aumentano con il numero di pagine.
Coetzee avrà anche vinto un Premio Nobel, ma non è in grado di scrivere un personaggio femminile decente a costo di salvarsi la vita: la possibilità di sopperire e affrontare in maniera critica il problema della mancanza di donne presenti nella materia originale non deve essere stata presa in considerazione; è dolorosamente chiaro che dietro la voce narrante femminile che si interroga con dispiacere sul perché non ha mai sorpreso Cruso e Venerdì a spiarla mentre si faceva il bagno ci sia un autore maschio.
La decisione di porre Susan come protagonista ha perso ogni istanza rivoluzionaria dalla prima frase sessista pronunciata, e anche gli altri personaggi, sbattuti da una parte all’altra come marionette, destano non poche perplessità. Tutti i personaggi di Defoe subiscono trasformazioni non indifferenti in Foe, ma se Robinson mantiene intatta la sua identità di uomo bianco colonizzatore che vuole imporsi sul mondo a lui circostante, Venerdì viene rimodellato completamente da Coetzee, passando dall’essere un indigeno caraibico a uno schiavo proveniente dall’Africa che non può comunicare con gli altri per via della lingua mozzata. Con questo cambiamento di etnia il suo personaggio viene sradicato dalle fondamenta per crearne uno completamente nuovo, creando involontariamente un appiattimento dannoso e semplicistico che sembra indicare che non abbia importanza la provenienza e il background culturale di Venerdì, l’unico dettaglio importante della sua persona è la sua condizione di subalternità, come se non ci fosse differenza tra le due diverse esperienze. Se Coetzee ci teneva così tanto a inserire una rappresentazione del Sudafrica e degli orrori della tratta degli schiavi neri avrebbe fatto meglio a scrivere un personaggio ex novo al posto di smantellare Venerdì e renderlo qualcuno che non è.
Foe è impeccabile nella sua costruzione con una premessa interessante, ma risulta asettico, senz’anima, arido, ed è un peccato per un libro che in potenza poteva aver molto da dire.

I think it’s important that I note that this is not the kind of book that I would normally gravitate towards in the first place. While it was not my taste, I can understand why it would definitely be in other readers’ wheelhouses.

Literalment sense paraules

Foe is a book that has flourished in the musty halls of English Literature Buildings but has little appeal to the rest of the world. The first fifty pages were quite good, but then the story devolves into a confusing and unsatisfying character study. At points I felt like I was reading one of the lengthy rants from an Ayn Rand book where you just tune out.

I certainly respect the opinions of others who found brilliance in this book, but I don't share their view.

Reading this now, at this precise political moment, it is no longer such a mystery that an ostensibly leftist white South African could write and publish this in the late 1980s. I say that not, as one could be forgiven for thinking, because no less than three white South African billionaires have the ear of Trump 2. It’s more that political exigent moments never really find (or maybe they cannot) find equally exigent expression in fiction, at least not right away. Wasn’t Lenin reading Hegel’s Logic during the April Crisis or some shit? Anyway, yeah, it’s still crazy he wrote a scene where Susan and Friday nearly invent jazz.

I had to read this book for one of my literature classes, and I have come to appreciate its merit. However, it's like drinking cough syrup; it makes you feel slightly woozy, and it may smell alright, but it tastes bad.

In short, this book incites discomfort and confusion as it parallels the apartheid in South Africa. The dissatisfaction I felt as a reader is part of the ironic intention the author wished to propel. There is no solid plot line, and the main characters are unclear. Many plot points were introduced but never answered. The ironic slant did, however, create conversation about power structures and they way they function. Foe achieves this by creating a resistance between the reader and the novel's form.

A re-telling of the story "Robson Crusoe" by Daniel Defoe.


4* Disgrace
4* Waiting for the Barbarians
4* Foe
TR Elizabeth Costello
TR Youth
TR Slow Man
TR The Master of Petersburg
TR Dusklands
TR Boyhood
TR Summertime
TR Life and Times of Michael K

Skaičiau lietuviškai, bet radau tik tokį paveikslėlį iliustracijai.
Kokie įspūdžiai?
j. M. Coetzee- garsus rašytojas, pamenu, jaunystėje paliko įspūdį "Maiklo K. gyvenimas ir laikai", paskui skaičiau dar kelis romanus, kur pavadinime yra Jėzus, tikslių neatsimenu. O kas man pakliuvo į rankas dabar? Sugluminta.
Pastebėjau, kad knygų skaitymas baigia paversti mane mizogine, kas yra liūdna, nes pati atstovauju objektą. Romano herojė varė pasiutimą- praleidžia saloje vos metus (Kruzas- 15, ir nesiskundžia!), ilgesingai laukia išvaduotojų, bet ar ji apsiramina, Fortūnai galų gale nusišypsojus? Nė velnio, toliau tryznioja, verkšlena, parazituoja rašytoją, kad išstenėtų juos nuobodulio ištepliotą vienerių metų gyvenimėlį saloje. Siaubas! Dangstosi Penktadieniu, neva jis- našta, atsakomybė, dėl kurios ji negali pradėti normalaus gyvenimo. Tačiau ji pati yra paprasčiausia dėlė.
Moteriška perspektyva turėjo būti originalus požiūrio taškas į klasikinę literatūrą, bet sakyčiau, apkartino ją dažnais nuotaikų svyravimais, o gyvenimą saloje pavertė dviejų vyrų agonija, vargšas Penktadienis neturėjo nė galimybės liepti jai užsičiaupti!
Pabaiga duoda naują perspektyvą, apie kurią būtų įdomu padiskutuoti, nes viskas vėl apsiverčia aukštyn kojomis. Rezultate- trūkčioji antakiais, nes supranti, kad nieko nesupratai...

Straight from Defoe's narrative 'Robinson Crusoe', I plunged into 'Foe' mainly because these two books make up a section of my Uni degree.

In 'Foe', Susan Barton becomes a castaway, being washed up on Cruso's (sic) island, where the intelligent, pious Crusoe portrayed by Defoe has become a grumpy, unfriendly man, and where Friday is portrayed as a mute simpleton, in an almost Conradian way. In saying that, the theme of 'Foe' seems to centre on the lack of words/speech given to him in Defoe's novel; how the oppressed (both women and "savages") are not given the power of speech, their muteness allowing others to effectively write their life stories for them, thereby denying them their freedom and true identity. This can be seen in Susan's frequent musings as to whether Friday is actually a cannibal, and is depicted symbolically by Friday's large empty mouth - devoid of tongue, devoid of words. This "black hole" is then paralleled to a black pupil of an eye, blackness into which nothing can be seen, and truth is concealed. I got to thinking of Kurtz's deathbed scene in Conrad's 'Heart of Darkness' where he died with his mouth open "giving him a voracious aspect". Could Friday's black hole of a mouth symbolise "the horror! the horror!" exclaimed by Kurtz? Also, just as Kurtz's final words were uninterpretable (is that a word?), those of Friday - the an incomprehensible "stream" of water that exits his mouth in the last scene - and indeed the last section of the book, are too. Hmmmm. Stuff to think about there.

The ending of the book is a bit strange; almost taking the form of an alternative storyline, parallelling the author Foe's desire to reshape Susan's actual narrative in order to sell books and escape from bankruptcy. It's basically a battle of authority over a narrative. The end section is so unlike the rest of the novel, it left me totally confused!

So, on first reading, it appears to me as a book addressing the art of novel-writing, whilst introducing political issues, such as slavery and the misery of oppression. It's a quick read, and a good little novel to append onto any reading of Defoe's classic masterpiece. But very, very different!

The tale that tells no tales. The one restraints and refuses to be understood. The trickiest book of earlier J.M. Coetzee's books I have read. Like his acclaimed signatures, Coetzee's Foe delivers multiple dimensions, complexities (with A LOT of questions afterwards) and lyrical prose. I've been struggling to understand. All I can say from the first read is that the book challenges the new idea of writing, and authorship and the clashes between the "authorship" as the sense of colonialism. The story is told by the winner, as they said. The land, the house, the master and the slave are the substantial motives. But what I couldn't yet figure out is the female roles of Susan Barton, the main character and the lost daughter with the same name. Their voices in the book are somehow disturbing and questionable. Many online sources say that Susan Barton is the voice of truth seeker, and the feminism recalled in the lost world of fragmented post-colonialism, but I find it hard to believe. Also the ending is confounding and surreal. Must be revisited soon.

Okay, to be honest, the only reason I picked this up because the front had a nautical theme. Does anyone else do that? Pick a book by it's cover? I'm sure some people do that as well.

Short little book, a great reinvention of Robinson Crusoe. Coetzee is a great writer and his use of language is beautiful. I really hated the end though. No spoilers, but a solid two stars off for that.

I am done. Rating? Review? I don't know. Maybe after I get home again, I'll know what I think.

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Returning the book to the library today, so I thought I'd revisit, and see if the book had enough time to settle in my mind, so I could rate it. Turns out, I still can't. I did the book a disservice by reading it too closely in time to Robinson Crusoe (which, btw, I loved!).

The best 'review' I can think of, is copying a couple of my updates notes:

"Hmmm .... :/

Don't know what I think of this. Friday isn't Friday at all, Cruso isn't Crusoe at all, the woman didn't exist in the original, and it's weird having Defoe be a character in the novel.

The writing is fine, highly readable.

Just finished Part I (the Island), and Part II (Susan and Friday's journey and arrival in England, and meeting Foe). Maybe Part III will help me decide ...

... (finished the) Third of four parts. This is the part where Susan and Friday catch up with Foe, and Susan tries to relate her story of the island, while Foe tries to find out more of the story of her time before the island, in Bahia.

The daughter who is not a daughter is there, with an attendant. This part of the story is bizarre, don't know how it fits in.

... I think I'm reading this too close in time to the reading of Robinson Crusoe. It's clear this story is not really a retelling, its using - very loosely - the frame of Robinson Crusoe for so, SO much more.

I'm reading a story of what the definition of 'is', is .... What is truth, what is reality, what is freedom, what is self-determination, who is substantial, who is a ghost/ephemera, etc"

...The last chapter .... the narrator? Is it the author, Coetzee?"

Another time, perhaps, I might come back and re-read this. It's a great book, I think, just not about Robinson Crusoe. It's about truth, and freedom, and subjugation, and self-determination, and a bunch more. I just couldn't appreciate it, because I was looking for the frame story, not the story within the frame.