Boyhood: Scenes from Provincial Life

In the fascinating BOYHOOD, Coetzee examines the personality and emotional growth of a very able boy, always first in his class, from his tenth to his 13th year. This boy, the prince of the household, is both childishly dependent on his mother and resentful of that dependence. As a result, he sometimes heaps scorn on her. Meanwhile, he is disappointed with his weak father, who he views as second-rate. And this boy has fantasies of omnipotence, which emerge as he practices cricket alone or considers death, which, in his imagination, he transcends. The selfish and uncharitable perspective of this self-centered boy, who is also an outsider with odd affiliations, animates the people and stories that Coetzee presents in this novel.The question you’re probably asking right now is: Who would want to read a book that explores the point of view of such an unlikable character? Well, the answer is anyone who is interested in family dynamics and the foundations and development of character, since the reader finishes this book with a firm grasp of the protagonist’s personality and the ins-and-outs of his extended family. There is also much in this book about race relations in South Africa from 1950 to 1953. This is not Coetzee’s subject in this novel. But the issue is there and manifests in surprising nuggets of information. At the age of ten, for example, the protagonist says he has personally met only four natives.IMHO, there are three truly exceptional chapters in BOYHOOD. These are:o Chapter 13: Elderly Aunt Annie breaks her hip and the protagonist, with his mother, travels to the hospital. There he learns that the father of Aunt Annie, who is the sister of his mother’s mother, wrote a long and unreadable book about his youth in Germany and his divine visions. Aunt Annie had the book printed, which she was unable to sell. Scores of copies that the world does not want are in Aunt Annie’s storage.o Chapter 15: The protagonist considers his affinity for the English language, where “he feels at home.” Specifically, he considers: How did his mother, whose extended family tends to use the Afrikaans language, learn to write and speak impeccable English? And why did his father love Shakespeare and not slip back to an Afrikaans identity?o Chapter 18: The protagonist’s father tries to reestablish his law practice. In doing so, he nearly ruins the family, which survives only because of his mother’s strength of character and the family resentments she harbors.There is, BTW, not even a single word in this pellucid novel (and probable quasi-autobiography) that is out of place. Highly recommended.

Were you perhaps under the impression that JM Coetzee was once an innocent, wonder-filled little boy, marvelling at all the unexpected delights of Mother Earth? Read this book and disabuse yourself! At age seven, fictionalised Coetzee, but also, one cannot help but suspect, ‘the real’ Coetzee, was already viewing the world through a prism of outsider-ness, violence, sadism and, as a special bonus, a serious case of Oedipus complex.Which isn’t to say it’s not a very good book. Like grown-up Coetzee, little Coetzee dislikes everyone, especially himself, but this is better than self-pity, I suppose. He describes the racism, brutality and narrow-mindedness of rural Afrikaans South Africa with great accuracy (sadly, I am not sure much has changed since Boyhood’s 1940s - 1950s setting), but without stereotyping the Afrikaners. It is perhaps no wonder that a sensitive child, unable to grow accustomed to discrimination, the destructive caprices of adults and the violence of Apartheid South Africa, should form such a grim world view. There are some lovely passages on the narrator’s love of his uncle’s farm and the outdoors.I most appreciated the novel a portrait of a kind of vulnerability specific to sensitive and intelligent children. As is often the case with Coetzee’s books (for me), Boyhood is a ‘good’ book, but the narrator’s disgust for human failings depresses me. I am weak enough to prefer my realism tempered with some delusional compassion for my own and hopefully others’ weakness.

This is not a bad or poorly done book, but when an author lays too much mentality and premeditation into a kid's head I think he or she misses the point of childhood (in this case boyhood) by transferring the adult view into the child.

Book arrived as described.

Few authors would merit the five stars... but Coetzee does it over and over again, whatever his subject, he captures me and doesn't let go until I get to the end. Insightful, funny, harshly real... and superb writing!

First book I've ever read by Coetzee; put off him before because assumed one more colonial author; this doesn't fit any stereotypes, and prompts me to start reading his novels.

i love this author. all his books are great.

Very good condition!

In this youth memories, J.M. Coetzee defines himself as `twice-born: `born from woman and born from the farm'. He is, first of all, a mother's son (`he clings to her as his only protector'), but `the farm is his secret fate'.Growing up in a rude and unsocialized family with eccentric characters, with a father who becomes an alcoholic and a mother, for whom `studying is just nonsense' and `children should be sent to trade school', he nevertheless continues to study `normally'.Through school, he discovers the real world around him: the different social classes, the opposition (and ostracism) between black / colored and white (race), English and Afrikaans (language), and Catholic / Protestant and Anglican (religion).This clear, sublime, impeccable prose is a far cry from J.M. Coetzee's struggling `Beckettian' beginnings.Its undercooled, accurate and still dramatic style makes this book a marvelous and moving read.

Another fine read from the genius who is John Coetzee. As always the writing of Mr C stirs a giggle or two, as I recall boys like him from my school years in South Africa. Once again the author enthrals the reader with his wry observations of life, and this timepiece period of a historical period now long forgotten. Cups washed in bleach cause a brown man drank from it - dear oh dear, we apartheiders had our neuroses got bad. Great read.....as always John fails his fans not. DC

Once again, I was left stunned by Coetzee's incisive instruments which cut to the bone - of truth, of reality. Even so, i wanted to return to absorb sections of the book which, begged re-living the experience (evocative of Doris Lessing's pure Africa, and inhabitants) The early part of the book can rouse spontaneous recognition, laughter, at a young boy's viewa or comments on his world and events. The third person device does not impinge - it cleverly removes the need for elaboration. As the story progresses, we move with the boy's shedding of naivety, the questionings and doubts about a mixed society, a small town, a parochial school world, Contrast this with his forays into the land of the Karoo, different relatives, sparse farmlands, where the dust gets into your throat, the thorns will lodge..while his observations sharpen, and becomes aware of passions, Yet, as he grows, he appears steadily,defensively,more obstreperous and we are the audience, This book may seem to be an apology to his mother, at times. He has spurned her devoted efforts on his behalf almost throughout (and for his younger brother), He juggles his other scorn which grow towards his other parent, his father. They move to another town. His mother is stoic in her remarkable fortitude and abilities,sadly, . Luckily the boy is clever and ambitious, though with only an almost mystical awareness of that. The boy remains, for me, an entrenched (other) character,by Coetzze, He is under my skin and never forgotten, even it that would infuriate him, by nature!

I had never read anything by this author before, and after reading the reviews I thought I should . He is obviously a first rate author, and the picture of South Africa through a child's eyes is interesting. It's also rather depressing and doesn't seem to go anywhere, like the first part of a longer, autobiographical novel. It reminded me a bit of parts of James Joyce's 'Portrait of the Artist as a Young man', though it's a long time since I read it. I will try another book by this author, but I wasn't excited.

Initially it is rather unsettling to read an autobiography of sorts written in the 3rd person and it takes a while to settle into the pace of the book. But after a while it spins it's magic and pulls you in as do most of Coetzee's works. It's a fabulous evocation of childhood, made more moving by the bizarre backdrop of South Africa at the time - segregation and ostracization was rife across all of SA, including it's children. JMC's spare, clinical, unemotional writing style somehow manages to stir powerful emotions in the reader and reading the book is, perhaps surprisingly, a genuinely moving experience.