Heteronym
Reader
My first introduction to J.M. Coetzee?s literary world couldn?t have gone smoother. In less than 200 pages and in clear and straightforward prose he builds a world that contains the best and worst of Mankind. One can easily detect an allegory for the South African Apartheid in the relationship between the citizens of the civilized Empire and the barbarians who live in the desert on its border. But like in any great novel, the action moves outside the personal sphere of the author and acquires a universal character. One can see in it a condemnation of any culture of empire or civilization that treats outsiders as inferior because of their race or cultural beliefs or way of life, and that justifies hatred and aggression against those outsiders on the basis of such differences. And if I hadn?t known Coetzee wrote this back in 1980, I?d have called this a post-9/11 world allegory.
We follow the Magistrate, an old man who has run the administrative affairs of the village for decades in a care-free and even lazy manner. He doesn?t worry about the barbarians, fishers and hunters mostly, who come to the village for trade; in fact he sympathizes with them and deplores the way the villagers cheat these ignorant people who are not used to business.
The arrival of Colonel Jodl marks the end of the Magistrate?s peace. The Colonel has simple orders: capture barbarians and gather information about an imminent attack. This means kidnapping innocent people, imprisoning them without just cause and torturing them. The safety of the Empire justifies this.
One of the tortured barbarians is a young woman who is left blind and hobbling; to save her from begging, the Magistrate makes her his maid, and soon falls in love with her. But a cultural wall stands between them so he leads her back to the desert, to her own people. When he returns he?s branded a traitor and endures the tortures and public humiliation applied to the barbarians.
Three things stood out for me in this novel: first, I loved how Coetzee showed that the relationship between the village and the barbarians was peaceful, if always based on inequality, until the army arrived and started making everyone paranoid with the threat of an impeding invasion.
Secondly, he demonstrates how the villagers are also barbarians by the way they treat the prisoners, which goes beyond torture and includes public floggings in which the citizens are invited to participate. Normal people can easily become monsters and we should never forget that.
Finally, the soldiers completely ravage the village they were supposed to protect: they rape people, loot stores, destroy crops. And then leave when their position becomes untenable. I love how the village?s destruction comes from within, from its own paranoia. The village then seeks guidance from the disgraced Magistrate who, after being tortured and ridiculed by his own people, leads them into a state of subsistence that gives hope for a new life. For all its faults, Coetzee doesn?t give up on Mankind, and his belief in a better world shines throughout this marvelous book.
We follow the Magistrate, an old man who has run the administrative affairs of the village for decades in a care-free and even lazy manner. He doesn?t worry about the barbarians, fishers and hunters mostly, who come to the village for trade; in fact he sympathizes with them and deplores the way the villagers cheat these ignorant people who are not used to business.
The arrival of Colonel Jodl marks the end of the Magistrate?s peace. The Colonel has simple orders: capture barbarians and gather information about an imminent attack. This means kidnapping innocent people, imprisoning them without just cause and torturing them. The safety of the Empire justifies this.
One of the tortured barbarians is a young woman who is left blind and hobbling; to save her from begging, the Magistrate makes her his maid, and soon falls in love with her. But a cultural wall stands between them so he leads her back to the desert, to her own people. When he returns he?s branded a traitor and endures the tortures and public humiliation applied to the barbarians.
Three things stood out for me in this novel: first, I loved how Coetzee showed that the relationship between the village and the barbarians was peaceful, if always based on inequality, until the army arrived and started making everyone paranoid with the threat of an impeding invasion.
Secondly, he demonstrates how the villagers are also barbarians by the way they treat the prisoners, which goes beyond torture and includes public floggings in which the citizens are invited to participate. Normal people can easily become monsters and we should never forget that.
Finally, the soldiers completely ravage the village they were supposed to protect: they rape people, loot stores, destroy crops. And then leave when their position becomes untenable. I love how the village?s destruction comes from within, from its own paranoia. The village then seeks guidance from the disgraced Magistrate who, after being tortured and ridiculed by his own people, leads them into a state of subsistence that gives hope for a new life. For all its faults, Coetzee doesn?t give up on Mankind, and his belief in a better world shines throughout this marvelous book.