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Sunday, October 16, 2005
Ungraceful Bodies
The notion of disgrace is a social construction. We are never disgraced until others think us to be so. To develop this further, consider the sociological definition of “deviance”. A person is labelled a deviant when he/she commits an act which is considered socially incorrect. Significantly, that act has to be committed in the open where people can bear witness and confer their opinion or judgement onto the actor.
As such, Lurie’s "rape" of Melanie was not deviantised because sex between them was a private affair which was done away from the prying eyes of the public. However, it became deviant when Melanie revealed it to her boyfriend and subsequently her family, the latter of whom decided that actions have to be taken against this Romantic (no puns intended) lecturer. That transformed Lurie from a non-deviant into a deviant, marking the start of his fall from grace.
As such, we can see how powerful social labels and the act of social labelling can be. Consider how the Blacks were perceived by the Whites in apartheid South Africa. Because of certain expectations and ideological slants, the Whites saw themselves as the superior race. The body thus became a site for political contention, resulting in a power struggle that saw people’s bodies becoming identity markers when they are in public. Skin colour became especially sensitive as segregation in places like restaurants and trains were based simply on the dichotomy of white and black. There came to pass a vicious cycle as children were born and socialised into their respective social circles, growing up to feel and think themselves superior or inferior to others depending on the kinds of social markers they carry.
This was the old South Africa, the Africa that Lurie knew and understood, the society that he lived and struggled in for survival. Yet the South Africa now, the Africa after apartheid, with the new political regime of Nelson Mandela, functions on a different body politic. Although still in a grey zone, Blacks are slowly rising in their social status. We see that in the progression of Petrus’ social position. From a dog-man to a co-owner to an independent land-owner, Petrus is representative of the new Black man and his changing social role in South Africa. At the end, even Lucy concedes that she is no more than a “bywoner”, “a tenant on [Petrus’] land” who is dependent on the latter for shelter and protection (Disgrace 204).
This is the power of symbolic interaction in society. Living the majority of his prime studying and teaching in the ivory towers, Lurie is a privileged White man protected from experiencing the real political changes that are happening all around him in the 1990s. Even the school’s inquiry was conducted, not to displace him, but to protect him and to preserve the position that he holds in the university. As Hakim puts it: “We would like to help you…find a way out of what must be a nightmare” (52). The small and closely-knitted community that Lurie is a part of prevents him (and the rest of them) from finding out that the centrality that the Whites have held in South Africa has come to be destabilised.
Perhaps the enlightenment that he receives begins on the day he has sex with Melanie, who is, not without deliberation on Coetzee’s part, a Black. His fall from grace, thanks to his rendezvous with his student, opens his eyes to a new social system with new symbols and meanings that he takes some time to decipher, but nevertheless comes to understand. The act of travelling from the city into the country foreshadows the transition that Lurie eventually comes to experience. Remember Lucy’s words to him when he reveals his displeasure for Petrus over the soon-to-be slaughtered sheep: “Wake up, David. This is the country. This is Africa” (124). This is a statement that can be read in many different ways. Perhaps what will be most useful in this discussion is a careful consideration of how Lucy articulates the last sentence “This is Africa.” When done in the right way, the sentence may come to imply that this, the country, and what is happening here, is a true reflection of the real Africa, the post-apatheid Africa as opposed to the Africa that Lurie knows in the ivory towers with its closed doors and its elitism. This explains why signs and symbols in the country are so destabilising to Lurie: he does not understand and appreciate these signs and their meanings.
That is why he is upset that Lucy is not getting something more (sophisticated) to do in her life (being a White); that is why he is disturbed when he realises that his “simple” neighbours Ettinger and the Shaws believe that they can be friends with him, a highly educated White male professor, just because they live near one another; that is why he cannot accept the fact that Lucy is subservient to Petrus and in need of his protection against other Blacks, a small man who is “big enough for someone small like” her (204). This is the new South Africa, the one that Lurie does not and refuses to know until the end of the novel.
I agree with Attridge to a certain extent when he says that Lurie comes to attain a state of grace towards the end of the novel. After all, Lurie’s development from the start of the novel till the end comes very near to resemble a relinquishment of worldly desires, a kind of Buddhist enlightenment or Taoist Zen. Consider his loss of status: firstly, he was stripped of his professorship; then his last name was converted from “Lurie” to “Lourie” following the name of his daughter cited in the Herald regarding the attack on their “smallholding” (115-6); and towards the conclusion he actually comes to identify himself with the dog-man (146), an identity that Petrus have long since given up with his social aspirations. Think also of his growing compassion for animals: he was affected by the sheep and the fate that awaited them at Petrus’ party; his participation in putting the dogs to sleep affected him so much that, going home one day, the “tears flow down his face” and “his hands shake” so much that he is forced to stop “at the roadside to recover himself” (143). This moment marks the turning point for Lurie: by showing his emotions for the animals Lurie comes to connect with Lucy’s statement about there being “no higher life” except that “which we share with the animals” (74). By appreciating his life through the bodies of animals and through an existence of the most basic, simple kind, Lurie does come to gain a form of enlightenment and attain a state of grace at the end of the novel.
The notion of disgrace is a social construction. We are never disgraced until others think us to be so. To develop this further, consider the sociological definition of “deviance”. A person is labelled a deviant when he/she commits an act which is considered socially incorrect. Significantly, that act has to be committed in the open where people can bear witness and confer their opinion or judgement onto the actor.
As such, Lurie’s "rape" of Melanie was not deviantised because sex between them was a private affair which was done away from the prying eyes of the public. However, it became deviant when Melanie revealed it to her boyfriend and subsequently her family, the latter of whom decided that actions have to be taken against this Romantic (no puns intended) lecturer. That transformed Lurie from a non-deviant into a deviant, marking the start of his fall from grace.
As such, we can see how powerful social labels and the act of social labelling can be. Consider how the Blacks were perceived by the Whites in apartheid South Africa. Because of certain expectations and ideological slants, the Whites saw themselves as the superior race. The body thus became a site for political contention, resulting in a power struggle that saw people’s bodies becoming identity markers when they are in public. Skin colour became especially sensitive as segregation in places like restaurants and trains were based simply on the dichotomy of white and black. There came to pass a vicious cycle as children were born and socialised into their respective social circles, growing up to feel and think themselves superior or inferior to others depending on the kinds of social markers they carry.
This was the old South Africa, the Africa that Lurie knew and understood, the society that he lived and struggled in for survival. Yet the South Africa now, the Africa after apartheid, with the new political regime of Nelson Mandela, functions on a different body politic. Although still in a grey zone, Blacks are slowly rising in their social status. We see that in the progression of Petrus’ social position. From a dog-man to a co-owner to an independent land-owner, Petrus is representative of the new Black man and his changing social role in South Africa. At the end, even Lucy concedes that she is no more than a “bywoner”, “a tenant on [Petrus’] land” who is dependent on the latter for shelter and protection (Disgrace 204).
This is the power of symbolic interaction in society. Living the majority of his prime studying and teaching in the ivory towers, Lurie is a privileged White man protected from experiencing the real political changes that are happening all around him in the 1990s. Even the school’s inquiry was conducted, not to displace him, but to protect him and to preserve the position that he holds in the university. As Hakim puts it: “We would like to help you…find a way out of what must be a nightmare” (52). The small and closely-knitted community that Lurie is a part of prevents him (and the rest of them) from finding out that the centrality that the Whites have held in South Africa has come to be destabilised.
Perhaps the enlightenment that he receives begins on the day he has sex with Melanie, who is, not without deliberation on Coetzee’s part, a Black. His fall from grace, thanks to his rendezvous with his student, opens his eyes to a new social system with new symbols and meanings that he takes some time to decipher, but nevertheless comes to understand. The act of travelling from the city into the country foreshadows the transition that Lurie eventually comes to experience. Remember Lucy’s words to him when he reveals his displeasure for Petrus over the soon-to-be slaughtered sheep: “Wake up, David. This is the country. This is Africa” (124). This is a statement that can be read in many different ways. Perhaps what will be most useful in this discussion is a careful consideration of how Lucy articulates the last sentence “This is Africa.” When done in the right way, the sentence may come to imply that this, the country, and what is happening here, is a true reflection of the real Africa, the post-apatheid Africa as opposed to the Africa that Lurie knows in the ivory towers with its closed doors and its elitism. This explains why signs and symbols in the country are so destabilising to Lurie: he does not understand and appreciate these signs and their meanings.
That is why he is upset that Lucy is not getting something more (sophisticated) to do in her life (being a White); that is why he is disturbed when he realises that his “simple” neighbours Ettinger and the Shaws believe that they can be friends with him, a highly educated White male professor, just because they live near one another; that is why he cannot accept the fact that Lucy is subservient to Petrus and in need of his protection against other Blacks, a small man who is “big enough for someone small like” her (204). This is the new South Africa, the one that Lurie does not and refuses to know until the end of the novel.
I agree with Attridge to a certain extent when he says that Lurie comes to attain a state of grace towards the end of the novel. After all, Lurie’s development from the start of the novel till the end comes very near to resemble a relinquishment of worldly desires, a kind of Buddhist enlightenment or Taoist Zen. Consider his loss of status: firstly, he was stripped of his professorship; then his last name was converted from “Lurie” to “Lourie” following the name of his daughter cited in the Herald regarding the attack on their “smallholding” (115-6); and towards the conclusion he actually comes to identify himself with the dog-man (146), an identity that Petrus have long since given up with his social aspirations. Think also of his growing compassion for animals: he was affected by the sheep and the fate that awaited them at Petrus’ party; his participation in putting the dogs to sleep affected him so much that, going home one day, the “tears flow down his face” and “his hands shake” so much that he is forced to stop “at the roadside to recover himself” (143). This moment marks the turning point for Lurie: by showing his emotions for the animals Lurie comes to connect with Lucy’s statement about there being “no higher life” except that “which we share with the animals” (74). By appreciating his life through the bodies of animals and through an existence of the most basic, simple kind, Lurie does come to gain a form of enlightenment and attain a state of grace at the end of the novel.
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