DISGRACE - A Story of Unrecognized Growth

Disgrace – A Story of Unrecognized Growth

A college literature professor and a twice divorced father at fifty two years old, David Lurie is a complex man. His life and actions appear to be guided by his desires, even when those desires lead him down a path that causes him to lose his job and his friends. Yet from the shadow of shame comes the journey of a fallen man. His misdeeds lead him to spend time with his daughter on the coast, where a series of events give him reason to evaluate himself and his life, ending the book in maturity he otherwise lacked. Disgracedeals with tough moral and historical issues in post-apartheid South Africa in a hauntingly beautiful way, delving into the complexities of man and emotions. As a story of hardship and the subsequent growth (albeit unnoticed at times) this is a very worthy read on a social plane as well as a literary one.

            As I was thinking about what I wanted to write my blurb on, I was thinking about what I could take away from this novel.  I decided that what impacted me most was the complexity of the characters and the way they developed throughout the novel, especially Lurie.  For all of his faults I did find Lurie a character that grew, even if he didn’t realize it.  In the beginning, he was all about sex.  “He existed in an anxious flurry of promiscuity.  He had affairs with the wives of colleagues; he picked up tourists in bars on the waterfront or at the Club Italia; he slept with whores.” (p. 7).  Eventually he even slept with a student of his who was barely willing, an all-time low, and a sign of extreme immaturity.  He moves on and winds up sleeping with a woman he finds repulsive upon their first meeting, but yet from it you can almost sense the maturity beginning to set it, even if the act itself is somewhat repulsive (if only because of the reaction he gives).  “Let me not forget this day, he tells himself, lying beside her when they are spent.  After the sweet young flesh of Melanie Isaacs, this is what I have come to.  This is what I will have to get used to, this and even less than this . . . . And let him stop calling her poor Bev Shaw.  If she is poor, he is bankrupt.” (p. 150).  This segment switches from his voice to that of the omniscient narrator, but both show his sense of wrongness of actions and unwilling maturity.  From that point he even matures more to where he doesn’t use Bev Shaw for sex, they merely lie together and talk.  “The sun is going down, it is getting cold.  They have not made love; they have in effect ceased to pretend that that is what they do together.” (p. 162).  Even though he is only aging a matter of weeks or months throughout the novel, David gains years worth of wisdom and maturity in that short time.  Not only does Laurie mature in the area of sexual relations either, he matures in the ability to hold himself accountable.  In the beginning he has an issue submitting to authority and writing an apologetic statement, but by the end of the novel he offers this statement, “I am sorry for what I took your daughter through.  You have a wonderful family.  I apologize for the grief I have caused you and Mrs. Isaacs.  I ask for your pardon.”  That is a monumental step for him.  He arguably meant it as well.  Another point of growth for him was in relation to dogs.  He went from the mindset of them being pets and nothing more, to taking it upon himself to dispose of the dead dogs bodies.  From there he even gives up a dog he has a special attachment to.  “The dog wags its crippled rear, sniffs his face, licks his cheek, his lips, his ears.  He does nothing to stop it. ‘Come.’  Bearing him in his arms like a lamb, he re-enters the surgery.” (p. 220).  David Lurie does not have an easy life.  Some of his problems were his fault, but others were unforeseen circumstances, and all of them led him to grow as a person.  Even if I don’t agree with his person, I must give him that credit.  What do you all think of him in that way? 

David Lurie: A Man of Conviction

The aftermath of David Lurie's affair with Melanie Isaacs is, overall, expected. The two are found out and Lurie  faces professional consequences--as anyone would in such a situation. His charges are clear: he abused the relationship of professor and student by having an intimate relationship with one of his students. Common situation, common punishment. That is until Lurie is actually brought before the council that is given the job of assessing his situation and recommending a punishment.

Previous to this scene, it's clear that David Lurie is a man of feeling. He frequently acts on impluses, whether they be romantic or otherwise. He puts heavy emotional investment in poetry, an art form he deems to describe the human condition better than any other. His desires drive him, a fact which has led to two failed marriages and an apparent string of short relationships with women that he can't resist.

It's not until his hearing, which is attended by work colleagues and strangers alike, that we see another side of David Lurie: that of a man of conviction. Even before the meeting that will decide the rest of his academic career, Lurie is in surprisingly high spirits. The book notes that "he has slept well" and further that "He is going in to this in the wrong spirit. But he does not care", referring to the fact that he is not nervous or filled with foreboding before the hearing (47). It's here that we first get a hint of the sheer tenacity of David Lurie.

Shortly in to the hearing, after having the charges against him presented, Lurie says something that completely sold him to me as a character: "I am sure the members of this committee have better things to do with their time than rehash a story over which there will be no dispute. I plead guilty to both charges. Pass sentence, and let us get on with our lives" (48). The feeling and principle behind that statement just floor me. Here's Lurie placed before a committee that has the power to effectively ruin his academic career, and what does he do? He doesn't grovel, he doesn't plead, he doesn't haggle. He stands by his actions. He then goes on to be borderline hostile, rejecting any under the table deals he might be able to get and attacking any accusation that portrays him as something other than a man of sound mind who is responsible for his own actions. Lurie even refuses the submission of a statement that could potentially save his job, on the grounds that it goes against his view on the situation and would require him to admit to motives that were untrue.

What this scene does for me is help to bring who David Lurie is in to focus. It's easy to write him off as a man fueled by desire, the flames of which eventually consume his professional life. I would be willing to contest that, had it not been for the hearing scene. Lurie may act on impulse and some of his actions may be inappropriate--but he owns them. When pushed in to a corner he didn't try to make excuses for himself or plead his way out of a sticky situation, he told his story exactly as is with no apologies and no theatrics--even though he knew it would probably cost him his career. He knows his relationship with Melanie had crossed a line, but he doesn't let that get in the way of taking responsibility for what he has done.

He may be a creature of passion who makes frequent mistakes as a result, but David Lurie is also a man of conviction and principle. I enjoy David Lurie as a character because of this. I guess you could say I enjoy him because I respect him. Disgrace is ultimately the tale of a man trying to make sense of his life even as it seems to come apart around him, even as his passions are quelled and those he loves are hurt. Throughout the novel however Lurie is able to take solace in the fact that he owns his actions and has accepted that he has to live with the consequences. That alone I feel makes him a strong protagonist.

Here's the scene from the film adaptation where Lurie is talking to his daughter about the dog their neighbors used to have. A commentary on desire and one's own nature, another one of my favorites.

Where to Exist in a World of Men and Dogs

There is a character in Disgrace that only appears briefly but seems to have knowledge of David and how his life will and has played out.  The character is the unnamed young man who is Melanie’s boyfriend.  In the beginning of the novel he comes into Professor Lurie’s office and confronts him about sleeping with Melanie.  He says, “And don’t think you can just walk into people’s lives and walk out again when it suits you.”  This line, more than any other sums up David’s entire life, and how he interacts with the other characters.  His relationship in the beginning of the novel with Soraya ends after he got too curious, and followed her and her boys around town.  She ended the relationship but only after he found out too much, after he interfered with their routine and as a result she moved, changed her contact info and had to do all of this because of David.  Obviously he walks into Melanie’s life and causes all manner of problems.  While she made her share of decisions, David pushed and began the whole thing, so once again he interfered. He had the option of staying at the university but he was stubborn and he decided to leave, to “walk out”.  Then he moves on, on to Lucy and her simple life, here again he questions and prods, trying to find his place as a father who has been absent for so long.  He stays with Lucy through their troubles but he is always pushing her to leave, to walk away and start over somewhere else, to do what he has done so often.  Leave one setting, one woman, in favor of new beginnings, a safer place, away from robbers, rapists or angry husbands/boyfriends.  David again encounters the young man toward the end of the novel, where he says, “Only doing you a favor, prof. didn’t you learn your lesson? ‘What was my lesson?’ Stay with your own kind.”  Stay with your own kind, the wanderers, the nomads, the whores, who are David’s kind?  That question can provoke a whole new discussion but for now, David is alone in the novel.  None of the other characters are wanderers, Lucy has settled and does not wish to leave, Melanie strayed from her path but she has been put back on it.  Bev and Petrus and all the other people David encounters work to continue their lives as they are, they have a goal and no desire to start again.  David cannot stay with any of the people he knows because they are not his kind, he is alone in this sense and that is why I feel he develops such a strong attraction to the dogs.  His life is that of a curious puppy, poking its snout into everything it can and moving on as soon as it becomes bored.  His attachment to the dogs allows him to feel connected again, like he is part of the world that he exists in, instead of an outsider, stopping here and there on the way to an unknown end. 

Also here's a link to an interesting look at the relationship between David and the dogs in Disgrace .
 http://research.uvu.edu/albrecht-crane/3090/Herron.pdf

The Question of Consent in Lurie's Affair

One question that came up in previous Disgrace discussions was that of given consent, or lack of, in David Lurie's affair with student Melanie Isaacs. As we all know, the affair did not last long and ended explosively through Isaac's betrayal. Although Melanie Isaac eventually got cold feet and revealed the affair to her guardians and peers, it can be argued that she was initially willing to pursue something more than a student-teacher relationship with Lurie, but eventually changed her mind, adopting a mode of non-consent through silence* when the relationship turned physical. 

(*Anti-rape groups are generally in consensus that sexual consent is given through a clear "yes" and that silence does not necessarily mean the same; usually it is interpreted as a "no" instead.)

 When we are first introduced to Melanie Isaacs, we are first familiarized with her relative mediocreness. As the narrator puts it, Melanie is "not the best student but not the worst either: clever enough, but unengaged" (Coatzee 11). However, we are alerted that something may be different about her when she receives Lurie's initial greeting with a "smile sly rather than shy" (Coatzee 11), and repeats this action a second time a short while later. Why a sly smile? Clearly, Melanie was imagining or plotting something in her head that transcended the traditional chaste student-teacher relationship. Later on that night, when Lurie touches her cheek and invites her to stay the night with him, she is seemingly in a dilemma: she "does not withdraw, but does not yield either" (Coatzee 16), but the reader understands that instead of being repulsed by Lurie's advances, Melanie still retains interested, her voice "[with] a hint of breathlessness. Exciting, always, to be courted" (Coatzee 16). It seems here that despite the social taboo of student-teacher affairs, Melanie remained intrigued due to the excitement that came from an older, mature man singling her out as worthiest of his affections. 

However, Melanie's feelings soon change from mildly interested to doubt and reluctance: at the beginning of Chapter Three Lurie takes Melanie out to lunch; however, she is listless and non-communicative, telling him that she is "worried" about the two of them being in a relationship (the narrator explicitly describes her beforehand on page 18 as "confused"). That same afternoon, Lurie makes love to Melanie for the first time. Although he highly enjoys the experience, Melanie is "passive throughout" and after Lurie comes back to himself, is described as "lying beneath [Lurie], her eyes closed, her hands slack above her head, a slight frown on her face" (Coatzee 19). A second sexual encounter, again initiated by Lurie, further illustrates the idea of nonconsent through silence: during this encounter Melanie does not speak and deliberates averts herself: her lips, her eyes, and her entire body as she burrows naked into the bedsheets with her back to him (Coatzee 25). The narrator sums up the encounter as "not rape, not quite that, but undesired nevertheless, undesired to the core. As though she had decided to go slack, die within herself for the duration...So that everything done to her might be done, as it were, far away" (Coatzee 25). Compared to her initial flirtatiousness with Lurie, her feelings descended to conflict and finally that of silence, and the reader understands clearly that there are signs of unspoken nonconsent interlaced throughout: the frown on her face, her physical aversion, and how she detaches herself mentally rather than involve herself completely.

The circumstances of Lurie's affair with Isaacs reminded me very much of the recent scandal in which a 41-year-old teacher, Mr. Hooker, left his wife and children to move in with one of his 18-year-old students. Here is a news video reporting the affair:

 

Like David Lurie, the real life Mr. Hooker became romantically involved with one of his students and does not try to deny his past actions. Both teachers first regard their students as simply average at first, a feeling which is slowly reversed with time.

What do you think? Does anybody have another opinion on the question of consent in Lurie's affair? Was anybody else reminded of the Hooker scandal?

EDIT: ABC News reported just several hours ago that Hooker has been arrested today (April 6th) for sexual abuse of a minor in a 1998 incident. Read the full story here.

DDT Perspectives

Karen Yamashita used all sorts of symbolism in Through the Arc of the Rainforest, but the chemical they used towards the end of the book on the birds was called DDT.  I was certain there was a substance used at some point that negatively affected birds even though it targeted insects.  I couldn't think of the name but I was fairly certain that DDT was not far off.  Upon some research (wikipedia), I learned that DDT is the actual name of the now criminalized chemical.

Interestingly enough, the chemical was used during World War II by the allies to kill insects that were carrying the Typhus virus.  Also, in 1955 there was a movement by the World Health Organization to help control the Malaria virus that was being carried and spread by mosquitos.  It didn't work out too well in Africa, but it proved to be very effective in other parts of the world.  Apparently they would go about using DDT the exact same way as it was used in the novel.  The only real difference with the chemical was in the way it harmed birds.  Environmentalists discovered that with many species of tropical birds, exposure to the chemical had somehow caused the birds to lay eggs with thinner shells.  This had a negative impact on the birds populations, which led to the outlaw of the substance (except in India for some reason).

It came to my attention that the author used much more subtle symbolism throughout the whole book. I felt that the Matacao represented oil, which was obvious as were most of her substitutions (I cant think of a better word), but with DDT she just used the same title and amplified the negative effects.  I just found this a little out of place, because the actual use of DDT was to get rid of diseases that were spreading naturally.  The book had this awful chemical that man selfishly used to solve a problem caused indirectly by greed, whereas there was a much less one sided morality battle in the real life situation.

On the one hand, we were harming the populations of birds, which is awful.  On the other hand, Malaria is a horrible disease that no person should have to go through.  Im not pushing the use of DDT, I'm just using a specific example to show the two perspectives equally, while in the book I felt the author neglected to do so during multiple instances.  Although she did have the authorities apologizing to Batista because some birds would not survive, the perspective of the authorities was delivered in such an evil and unemotional way, while the perspective of Batista and other bird lovers had all of this dramatic emotion behind it.  It was a little uneven and I just thought it was too much.  It seemed to me that she was criticizing GGG for not acknowledging everyone's perspectives by not acknowledging GGG's perspectives.  Just made me think, and in my opinion her approach took away from the books message.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DDT#Use_in_the_1940s_and_1950s  <---Wikipedia Article on DDT.

Lurie's Life as Lucifer

      There is an undeniable similarity between David Laurie and Lucifer throughout Disgrace. The reader is given a description of Lucifer in one of David Lurie's lectures at the University. Although we do not quite understand the similarities between the two during the lecture, by the end of the book the two are one in the same.

     "'Lucifer,' he says. 'The angel hurled out of heaven'" (32) Just as Satan was hurled from heaven, David Lurie was hurled out of the University. "Note that we are not asked to condemn this being with the mad heart, this being with whom there is something constitutionally wrong. On the contrary, we are invited to understand and sympathize. But there is a limit to sympathy. For though he lives among us, he is not one of us." (33-34). David Laurie is himself an outsider in his society. No matter where he goes, it seems that people know of his sexual relationship with one of his former students. He seems to be separated from the people around him. "He is exactly what he calls himself : a thing, that is, a monster. Finally, Byron will suggest it, it will not be possible to love him, not in the deeper, more human sense of the word.He will be condemned to solitude." (34). In the end of the book, he ends up by himself, "condemned to solitude" like Lucifer.

Here is the trailer for the film version of Disgrace. They include a small part of Lurie's lecture on Lucifer. It gave me chills. I'm curious to see if any of you have a strong reaction to this part as well.

     There is an excess of fire in this book as well. Just look at what he does while helping Bev. He puts the corpses of dead dogs into an incinerator. "It operates six days of the week, Monday to Saturday. On the seventh day it rests." This  is obviously a biblical reference. At first, the incinerator works like God, taking six days to do what it needs to and then using one day to rest. However, once Lurie works there permanently, the incinerator is open all seven days. It loses its God-like quality. Lurie's job is almost identical to Lucifer's. He literally throws dead dogs into fire, just as Lucifer leads dead people into hell. Hell is described as a sea of fire in the Bible. David Lurie is like a Satan for dogs.
     When he and Lucy are attacked by the three strange men they set David Lurie on fire. The image of him being on fire brings about the image of Lucifer in my mind. He also seemed to recover from being set on fire with very little damage. Perhaps he can withstand fire because he is so much like Lucifer?


     There is also the topic of his attraction to younger women, much younger women. Has there not been a theme throughout literary history of devil-like characters being attracted to young women and children? A well-known example would be Bram Stoker's Dracula. The vampires in this book target young women and children. Both represent purity and innocence, and by violating these people, the vampires are committing a heinous crime. David Laurie also goes after young, child-like women.

Maybe this is why the novel is called Disgrace. David Lurie is the opposite of grace, which is a characteristic of God according to the Bible. He is the anti-grace. He is the devil.

A Mistress, Nymphet, Daughter, or Victim?

Today in class, one question posed in the PowerPoint concerning Coetzee's Disgrace was- What does David Lurie desire? 

After reading the first half of the novel, my impression is that Lurie is influenced by prejudices about the feminine. Spurred by an innate distaste for the dumpy Bev Shaw, he admits, "He does not like women who make no effort to be attractive. It is a resistance he has had to Lucy's friends before. Nothing to be proud of: a prejudice that has settled in his mind, settled down" (72). To him, everything in life is about power dynamics, and physical beauty is a form of power. He examines his grown daughter Lucy's body and is displeased that she is in love with Helen, a woman he doesn't find physically beautiful. He doesn't even like imagining Lucy and Helen having an adult relationship. Instead he guesses that "Perhaps they sleep together merely as children do, cuddling, touching, giggling, reliving girlhood - sisters more than lovers. Sharing a bed, sharing a bathtub, baking gingerbread cookies, trying on each other's clothes. Sapphic love: an excuse for putting on weight" (86). Because Lucy's attraction for Helen is unconventional- it's both a lesbian relationship, and Helen isn't physically attractive in an obvious way, does this mean there is no mature intimacy? Hopefully Lurie's imagination is merely stinted by the fact that this is his daughter, a child in his eyes. 

So, if Lurie has compassion for his daughter and her safety, why does he engage in an inappropriate relationship with the youthful Melanie Isaacs? I believe that Coetzee strategically organizes her prose here. Lurie begins to seduce Melanie immediately after he is rejected by Soraya. Soraya represents an exotic fantasy. He wields ultimate power over a woman who only exists in a room, once a week, to pleasure him. It's once he sees her in the real world with two children that she begins to lose her appeal. He is also jealous of her supposed husband. He reflects:

"He ought to give up, retire from the game. At what age, he wonders, did Origen castrate himself? Not the most graceful of solutions, but then aging is not a graceful business. A clearing of the decks, at least, so that one can turn one's mind to the proper business of the old: preparing to die" (9). 

Ultimately, he desires two things: to wield sexual power to feel alive and in control despite his inability to halt death and to participate in the exotic, the romanticized. He finds his dream embodied in the beautifully frail, undergraduate student Melanie Isaacs. 

Melanie is repeatedly described as child-like. "In the one word ["Hello?"] he hears all her uncertainty. Too young" (18). "A child! he thinks: No more than a child! What am I doing? Yet his heart lurches with desire " (20). "He makes up a bed for her in his daughter's old room, kisses her good night, leaves her to herself" (26). The examples of her child-like physique, demeanor, and his fatherly attitude towards her are endless. So, do we jump to assume that Lurie is the latest Humbert Humbert, preying on nymphets? No- Melanie is consistently described as child-like, but she is not Nabokov's prepubescent Lolita. Lurie is not a pedophile, just chauvinistic and power hungry; it is easiest for him to achieve sexual, intellectual, and emotional dominance by pursuing someone who feels pressured by the age difference and his presence as her professor. 

The second reason for Lurie's desire comes from his infatuation with the romanticized. He literally teaches a Romantics course. He lectures to his students, "It may be in your better interest to throw a veil over the gaze, so as to keep her alive in her archetypal, goddesslike form" (22). What is more perfect and idealized than the youthful woman? He is constantly envisioning Melanie's perfect breasts and body. He romanticizes what is practically rape by comparing it to art: "Her tights and panties lie in a tangle on the floor; his trousers are around his ankles. After the storm, he thinks: straight out of George Grosz" (19). Maybe it is this artful vision that prevents him from realizing the seriousness of his actions.

More disgusting than a hunger for power that knows no bounds and a purely physical approach to women, is Lurie's refusal to reform. He doesn't see his pursuit of Melanie as rape, and he will not accept the school's attempts to counsel him in a fashion that imitates the South African, post-apartheid Truth and Reconciliation Commission. "'No,' he says. 'I was enriched by the experience'" (56). Melanie is distressed and thinning. He is told she took sleeping pills. She wants to drop out of school. But, Lurie will not admit that he was wrong. He sees himself as an instinctive dog who shouldn't be punished for his carnal cravings (90), and according to this logic, Melanie is just another bitch.

Quick Rhys Biography

After doing some research on Jean Rhys, I found out she didnt have the smoothest life.  She apparently was an alcoholic and was arrested at some point in her life for being drunk and disorderly.  She also had several husbands and was, at times, a homewrecker.  A lot of her work makes it seem like she was writing about herself and almost venting through her work.  She had a husband and 2 kids (one died at birth).  Her husband was imprisoned, and that was when she began writing with the help of Ford Maddox Ford, whom she met and lived with in Paris in 1924. 

Her first novel, Postures (1928) was described as "the fate of the innocent, helpless victim who do not have control of her own life."  According to the website posted at the bottom of this post, which has a more detailed explanation about everything, this book was actually about the affair she ended up having with Ford.  In the book apparently the main character is a woman who's husband was imprisoned, and while he was gone, the woman is seduced by a friend.  Amongst her other novels, there is After Leavin Mr Mackenzie, (1931) which is about a woman who is separated by her lover and has set off to live in cheap hotels where apparently she would talk to herself. 

The second novel mentioned is basically what happend to Rhys, and it seems as if she considered her writing as a form of talking to herself.  If that was how she looked at writing it is kind of inspiring that she was able to take to something she loved and use that as a way to release her inner demons which she evidently had plenty of.  She was criticized by others for her opposition of slavery which obviously was a mindset ahead of her time. One last interesting quote taken from her autobiography:
 "Black women Rhys considered stronger than white - 'Dear God, let me be black,' she wrote in her autobiography."

In 1927 Rhys published her first collection of stories, The Left Bank and Other Stories, taking the penname Jean Rhys. Her first novel, Postures (1928), is a classical version of the fate of the innocent, helpless victim who do not have control of her own life. The book is considered to be an account of Rhys's affair with Ford Madox Ford. Marya Zelli, the heroine, is a young English woman. She meets and marries a Polish man, Stephan, who lives in Paris. While her husband is in prison, she is seduced by a friend. After Leaving Mr Mackenzie (1931) was a story of Julia Martin, for whom poverty is a way to hide her need of love and security. She has parted from her lover, Mr. Mackenzie, to live in a cheap hotel, where she talks to herself. Eventually Julia learns to lend money without feeling guilty, and accepts insecurity as a part of her existence.

Listening to Adrienne Rich

Not really a blog post, just a great link I stumbled across tonight.  It's an interview Adrienne Rich gave to NPR's Fresh Air in 1989, and it's a fantastic 26 minutes of looking listening to the life of such an influential poet.  Definitely give it a listen if you have the time.

"Essentially poetry, if it is poetry, does not lend itself to simple readings, to oversimplifications — though people may try to read it that way. It seems to me that the essential nature of a poem is that there is ambivalence and ambiguity quivering underneath." -Adrienne Rich


Link to the NPR Article and 1989 Interview