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Properly speaking, this is not a novel, but rather a fictionalised account of the author's late teens and early 20s, mainly his struggle to find his path after he moved out of South Africa to London in the early 60s. Coetzee is an introvert (and almost a recluse, so the pundits say); his spells of loneliness, his socially awkward experiences and his frequent, detailed inner questionings are proof of his nature. In short terms, he was yearning for two things when he left South Africa: becomi

Properly speaking, this is not a novel, but rather a fictionalised account of the author's late teens and early 20s, mainly his struggle to find his path after he moved out of South Africa to London in the early 60s. Coetzee is an introvert (and almost a recluse, so the pundits say); his spells of loneliness, his socially awkward experiences and his frequent, detailed inner questionings are proof of his nature. In short terms, he was yearning for two things when he left South Africa: becoming a poet and live from his art; getting into a relationship. In general, both his attempts at working and having sex were far from satisfying (and sometimes quite hilarious). Nevertheless, it provides a different point of view of this era, of the events that were troubling South Africa at the time and, oddly enough, of the early development of the computer industry. At times (especially in the first couple of chapters), it felt a bit like reading a biography written in the style of Kundera, albeit less poetic. I had only read Foe from this author and wasn't overly charmed; I am warming up a bit more to him, thanks to this short book.