Foe (1986)
Are writers like waterskaters who write words on the sand to be washed away? Written with a strong graceful style that is sensitively economical while being in constant flow. Coetzee has the sturdy descriptive imitation of Defoe that is strangely complimented by the dreamlike narrative where one setting fades into another (which is impressive in light of the fourth part where what could have been jarring becomes appropriately ghostly). Coetzee compacts a lot into a short space, that deserves comparison to Henry Green, as the story is thick with themes to be intoxicated by, enveloped in.
Much like Wild Sagasso Sea by Jean Rhys, in style as well as concept, Foe is an adding on extra episodes to classic stories but Coetzee also furnishes some untold tells about a woman called Susan Barton who was Robin Cruso’s desert island companion. It lends itself almost exclusively to a post-colonial/ feminist reading of what has been a masculine adventure tale. Apart from the discussion about what is integral to Cruso’s story it also meditates on the nature of story telling, particularly the ethical dimensions on those telling the stories of others, which is symbolised by Friday’s stumped tongue.
Mesmic prose that will make me reconsider what Robinson Crusoe is, or could have been, exactly about.
Much like Wild Sagasso Sea by Jean Rhys, in style as well as concept, Foe is an adding on extra episodes to classic stories but Coetzee also furnishes some untold tells about a woman called Susan Barton who was Robin Cruso’s desert island companion. It lends itself almost exclusively to a post-colonial/ feminist reading of what has been a masculine adventure tale. Apart from the discussion about what is integral to Cruso’s story it also meditates on the nature of story telling, particularly the ethical dimensions on those telling the stories of others, which is symbolised by Friday’s stumped tongue.
Mesmic prose that will make me reconsider what Robinson Crusoe is, or could have been, exactly about.
