Just another WordPress.com site

Slow Men: A Disabilities Studies Case for the Novels of J. M. Coetzee (first section)

I) Coetzee’s Representations of Disabled Bodies

When looking at Eugene Dawes from J.M. Coetzee’s  Dusklands, a historian who spends his days behind a desk, it is very likely to come across his character and dismiss applying a disabilities studies read solely because he has no physical or psychological trait that suggests that he is disabled. That is precisely one of the strongest issues theorists of disabilities studies confront when it comes to characters as representations in literature and culture. Readers must go beyond the boundaries of the normal and abnormal bodies in order to read into characters in order to search for their role among the able-bodied and dis-abled. During the process of writing, Eugene suffers from the pressure of deadlines and perfection, becoming subject to the anxiety his body is producing. His description of the feeling reads, “The ropes of muscle that spread from the spine curl in suckers around my neck…If this inner face of mine, this vizor of muscle, had features, they would be the monstrous troglodyte features of a man who bunches his sleeping eyes and mouth” (Dusklands, 7). What is happening to Eugene is beyond an attitude of difference, but of how he perceives himself, connecting that feeling to his physical being. With his diminished state of exhaustion, it is then projected to the body, reflecting his attitude towards himself onto his physical appearance. This directly connects the physical with identity; his interpretation of himself begins internally, and manifests itself into an image he sees of himself. This is then further explored when looking at what he feels to be the driving force of his creative potential. He describes it, saying, “I need peace and live in order for my work. I need coddling. I am an egg that must lie in the downiest of nests…I brood, I am a thinker, a creative person, one not without value to the world” (Dusklands, 1). His connection to his physical self and his creativity has as much to do with the ability to produce work as it does with producing ideas, further engaging the read of Eugene through the lens of disabilities studies. The ability to produce work has become a staple to determining the able-bodiedness of a person, mainly due to the role of The Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 (See Thomas’ The Disabled Creature in Culture). It is claims that determine who is disabled and who is not that disabilities theorists, such as Rosemarie Garland Thomas and Lennard Davis, criticize when it comes to the discourse of disability studies.

The discourse goes beyond from what the body is, into what are the perceptions of the body. In his essay, Who Put the The in the Novel: Identity Politics and Disability in Novel Studies, Lennard Davis discusses how the best examination of the body and its politics has nothing to with appearance, but more to do with the construction of identity. He writes, “…disability is somewhat different from other identities and subjects them to a kind of scrutiny. Disability is an identity divorced from family, nation, ethnicity, or gender…In some sense, disability is more like class, which is constructed but is not biologically determined” (Davis, 321). This suggests that someone does not have to be born with a disability or have some type of physical impairment in order to be determined disabled, allowing an analysis of a character that is not disabled into the discourse of disability studies. Eugene is a very useful example because although he is not physically disabled, his plight is constructed by his environment, yet affects the corporal. Whether a character has a physical disability or not, the role of the body when analyzing a character becomes essential when discussing disabilities since it focuses on the able-ness of the body as well as its ability to perform work. In this section, the lens of disabilities studies will be applied to the characters of J.M. Coetzee, reading them as disabled bodies.

*                                   *                                  *

            When looking at the role of bodies of difference play in the texts of Coetzee, what it established quite quickly is the comparison of those bodies and others which are not considered different. In her book, Extraordinary Bodies, Rosemarie Garland Thomas writes,

Cultural dichotomies do their evaluative work: this body is inferior and that one is superior; this one is beautiful or perfect and that or grotesque or ugly. In this economy of physical difference, those bodies deemed inferior become spectacles of otherness while the unmarked are sheltered in the neutral space of abnormality. (Thomas 8)

One of the first actions this passage tries to accomplish is the significance of the body of difference when it is contrasted to one that is, according to Thomas, “normative”. The body of difference can only have its difference established if it has a body with no difference to compare itself with. While some of Coetzee’s characters have a characterization that involves the discovery of their role as someone who is different, Friday, from Coetzee’s Foe, becomes representative of bodies of difference due to his role as the marginalized as much as it does with his physical appearance. His physical description instantly makes him a disabled body by having Susan Barton playing the role of what Thomas calls the “normate” (Thomas 8). Thomas explains the process of determining who is disabled when people who are considered “normate” make that distinction. She writes,

This neologism names the veild subject position of cultural self, the figure outlined by the array of deviant others whose marked bodies shore up the normate’s boundaries…Normate, then, is constructed identity of those who, by way of the bodily configurations and cultural capital they assume, can step into a position of authority and wield the power it grants them. (Thomas 8)

Friday, however his appearance may be, is subject to the prejudices Susan has for anyone that does not look like her. When she describes how she felt around him, it instantly becomes a play of power as it does with identity, saying, “…I had given to Friday’s life as little thought as I would have a dog’s or any other dumb beast’s” (Foe, 32). Thomas contributes to this argument with showing how the construction of disabled bodies has as much to do with identity as it does with the body and markers of difference. She writes, “…disability is a representation, a cultural interpretation of physical transformation or configuration, and a comparison of bodies that structures social relations and institutions” (Thomas 6). As soon as the difference of Friday is established by Susan, the power is presumably adopted by her since she sees herself as the normate in their relationship. This becomes more evident as she assumes the position of care-taker and educator for Friday. Friday, however, is more of a representative due to his inability to articulate his own thoughts and opinions, while donning characteristics of stereotypical representations of the exotic, colonized people. Thomas also explains how this is typical with disabled-bodied characters in fiction. She writes, “Disabled literary characters usually remain on the margins of fiction as uncomplicated figures or exotic aliens whose bodily configurations operate as spectacles, eliciting responses from other characters…” (Thomas 9). In order to further explore which of Coetzee’s characters present a perspective that suggests a disabilities studies read, the identity needs to be as valued as what makes the character different.

Two characters that offer an introspective examination into their motives as well as deal with the corporeal are Paul Rayment, from Slow Man, who loses most of his right leg after a car accident, and Michael K, from Life and Times of Michael K, who uses his body to express his rejection of the outside world. These two may have contrasting opinions and attitudes when it comes to themselves as Thomas’ read of disabled bodies, yet these two offer the most subtext when looking at the role of their marker of difference. The narrative of Paul Rayment is very dependent on his disability for many reasons. The very first action in the story is the incident where he gets hit by a car while riding his bicycle. While the story makes references to his past life, pre-incident, Coetzee gives us the life of Paul only after the incident. This type of construction communicates only the thoughts of Paul after the incident, rather having a character the reader can get to know and witness his tragic fall from able-bodied to disabled. With this structure, Coetzee is making the effort to only have a specific amount of information to the reader that is solely from Paul after the incident. This further suggests that the entire novel is attempting to prevent the motif of a cure narrative; the reader only knows Paul as a man who lost his leg, instead of a character who must become “whole” again. Michael K is also instantly marked as different, having been born with a cleft lip, but his story has a very bildungsroman feel, as the reader learns about Michael from his birth to his self-induced exile. The role of the body is not one like Paul, where there is a physical impairment that marks him as different, but becomes tied to his identity as he learns to utilize his body as a canvas for his feelings towards a changing world and the social conditions enforced by the colonizers. Being able to tie the identity of these characters to their disability becomes the first step when it comes to applying Thomas’s interpretation of the disabled body, since the focus is on how the characters are read as, as well as influenced or affected by, their marker of difference. Thomas’ further explores this concept as she explains why this examination of the identity is essential when enacting a disability studies read. She writes, “…the contemporary theory most suited to examining disability fuses identity politics with the poststructuralist interrogation of identity, truth and knowledge” (Thomas 30). A disability studies read of Coetzee’s characters must involve a type of understanding of identity, whether it is to introduce a perspective that challenges the institution of reality or to subvert the social conditions around them.

Paul Rayment is a character that could easily lend himself to disabilities studies when looking at what is the marker of difference signifying to those who can see it as well as to himself. As mentioned earlier, even the construction of the narrative becomes significant to the reading of Paul as a disabled character. Because of the fact that the incident is the very first act in the story, it is not possible to know Paul without the incident being absent of his identity. Therefore, the incident affects the constitution of his character as much as the incompleteness of his leg. Throughout the text, Paul is concerned with how he feels in accordance to the situation in front of him or his new circumstances, be it either specifically about him not having a leg or regarding the fact he is seen as someone who is disabled. The discussion of a prosthetic helps reveal the contrast between how people regard his disability and he himself does. When Madeline, his physiotherapist, suggests to Paul about getting a prosthetic leg, it helps better represent how people see his disability and how much it differs from what Paul thinks. As she is suggesting, she tells Paul, “There are people all around the street who you could not even tell they are wearing prostheses, it’s so natural the way the y walk” (Slow Man, 59). He responds by saying, “I don’t want to look natural…I prefer to feel natural”. What this signifies for Paul, as well as for how the Madeline, in this case, the “normate”, responds to his marker of difference.  According to Madeline, it does not make sense for Paul to not have one since he obviously wants to regain his status as someone who was once not disabled. Paul see the situation much differently; even if he did not consider himself disabled, at this point of the text, he clearly does, what matter more to him is how he feels about himself. That matters much more than making everyone feel less uncomfortable when they see his physical form. Thomas explores Robert Murphy’s ethnography piece on the public receiving a disabled person, in this case, Murphy is the disabled body, called The Body Silent. In it, he explores the discomfort people have when coming across someone who is seen as physically different. Thomas assesses his findings, describing the type of emotions people have when they see disabled bodies by writing the following: “Like the poor, Murphy asserts, disabled people are made to signify what the rest of Americans they fear will become” (Thomas 41). This shows the significance behind appearance and how it is playing a more important role than just making the disabled body look more normal; the goal for the prosthetic and for Paul to look natural will help ease the discomfort others have regarding his disability, helping them feel more secure about their own physical self. Even if Paul wanted the prosthesis, it would ultimately not be for him, but for the rest of the world to feel better about themselves.

A lot of definition by negation happens in fiction when it comes to disabled bodies. The dichotomy of abled/disabled is highlighted by characters who contrast each other, specifically when it comes to the body and more so when their character is concerned. For Paul, his character has much more context when coupled by someone who is not only physically able, but can illustrate a character that has no inference of Paul’s new interpretation. Drago, son of Marijana, his house nurse, becomes that figure for Paul. Drago is not only simply someone that qualifies as normate, but is very likely a foil Coetzee introduces to further highlight Paul’s new state of being. Drago is, arguably, the representation of Paul before the incident, or, more so, who Paul was before the reader was introduced to Paul. Drago is young, drives a motorcycle, and is on the cusp of turning to a lifestyle of illicit behavior, and most of all, a physically astute individual; he’s a good-looking twenty-year-old male that has nothing preventing him from riding a motorcycle. Where Drago is young, willing and able, Paul is old, getting used to his new physical form, and disabled. The two also share a likeness through contrast in their vehicles; where Drago rides his motorcycle, hinting at his able-bodied masculinity, Paul was injured while riding a bicycle, suggesting a type of passivity in life. Paul even recognizes it as he talks to Marijana about him, saying “He is testing himself. You cannot stop young men from exploring their limits. They want to be the fastest. They want to be the strongest. They want to be admired” (Slow Man, 41). In this response about Drago, Paul alludes to his physical aptitude as well his willingness to explore, which is something he no longer possesses. This contrast of able-bodiedness is another issue addressed in disability studies, involving the determination of an able-bodied individual. Part of the celebration of able-bodied individuals (in mostly American representations) comes from the role of texts such as Emerson’s Self-Reliance. Thomas brings out the criticisms of his work from a disabilities perspective as well as his response to the criticism. She writes, “Scholars have noted that Emerson’s elaboration of liberal individualism as a neo-Platonic, disembodied form of masculinity depends upon his construction of and flight from a denigrated, oppositional femininity upon which he projects a fear…of dependence” (Thomas 42). What she begins to argue both highlights the binary Emerson sets up between the able-bodied and the disabled, while also showing how this read of people who are disabled quickly become deemed as inferior, marginalized, and excluded from the world Emerson envisions that qualify for it. This type of read of Emerson’s work shows the role of Paul in the discourse of disabilities studies; he becomes a representation of the marginalized, further becoming the voice of a people that needs to be heard in order to better understand what constitutes normalcy in literature.

While the marker of difference Paul has on his body can be considered a disability, Michael K, from Coetzee’s Life and Times of Michael K, becomes a play on the role of the body and identity as he utilizes his body in a way that better expresses how he feels about the outside world. The very first line establishes Michael as different, as in Slow Man, yet the utilization of it differs very much as the text uses a series of associations that make the marker go either as a positive or negative physical trait. Coetzee illustrates this as follows: “The first thing the midwife noticed about Michael K when she helped him out of his mother into the world was that he had a hare lip…To the mother, she said, ‘You should be happy, they bring good luck’” (Life and Times, 3). The hare, or cleft, lip becomes a signifier for positivity, suggesting that Michael looks different but is not seen as inferior. This does not last long, however, as Coetzee describes his mother’s reaction to it. He describes her emotions as follows: “She shivered to think of what had been growing in her all these months” (Life and Times, 3). Michael’s mother, with her reaction and sympathies, instantly labels Michael as a disabled body as she looks upon her son as not only disabled, but establishing a type of stigmatization on his person. This becomes the first incident where Michael K goes through a process of having his fate determined, although his identity has more to do with trying to circumvent the prophesized future as a disabled person. Because of the nature of the narrative, which attempts to capture almost the entire lifespan of Michael K, the novel as whole requires an examination as a text that is applied to disability studies. When looking at Davis’ essay, where this is most evident is when looking at the entire context of the novel. The plight of Michael is shared with that of what Davis suggests the novel must accomplish under the lens of disability studies. He writes, “The novel must be as effect of power in the same sense that identity is both the result of power and a resistance to it” (Davis, 324). Both Michael and the whole novel must try to accomplish the same goal, which is to establish themselves as admirable opponents to when it comes to power relations. They, Michael and the novel, according to Davis, are trying to communicate how they come to be in regards to and because of the people who receive them.

Like Paul, what helps establish Michael as a disabled body mostly is when he is compared to able-bodied individuals. When Michael takes shelter in a ditch under a damn, he watches the soldiers on the other side on stand-by, analyzing what their role as people are compared to himself. He describes the reading of the soldiers as follows: “The stories they tell will be different from the stories I heard in the camp, because the camp was for those left behind…whereas these young men have had adventures, victories, defeats, and escapes” (Life and Times, 109). This shows how Michael recognizes himself as one that is not in the center, as the marginalized. Also like Paul, he alludes to their able-bodiedness that grants them the ability to accomplish such physical feats of wartime. There is also, like in the case of Paul and Drago, a type of valuing when it comes to the enabled and the disabled. The stories, as Michael puts it, will most likely have more importance to the rest of history since they are the stories of soldiers, as able-bodied men, instead voices that have been subject to marginalization.

Further along the text, it starts a second book that is from the perspective of a doctor who is overlooking Michael. Upon examining Michael’s health, which at this point has been deteriorating, he gathers information from reading his body as well as listening to what Michael K has to say. After reviewing what he knows, he makes a claim, saying, “Perhaps I do indeed believe too many of his stories. Perhaps the truth is simply that he needs to eat less than other people” (Life and Times, 144). The role the doctor plays is one who follows the rules that are established among the healthy and the sick, or, more appropriately, the able and the disabled. What his interpretation suggests is where he places value when it comes to determining if someone is in need of assistance or not. This line suggests that, according to him, the body is what has more authority when it comes to assessing Michael’s health, oppose to what Michael says and how he feels. This suggests the role the body has when the physician, or anyone else making a judgment, makes a claim about health. Instead of conversing about symptoms with Michael, the patient, the doctor is granting authority over the individual. When looking at the significance of determining who is disabled or not according to a type of consensus, the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 (ADA) plays a significant role. Thomas further investigates the findings of this legislation and applies her vision of a disabilities read. She writes,

The notion of compensation that characterized disability policy before 1990 implies a norm, the departure from or loss of which requires restitution. Seen this way, disability is a loss to be compensated for, rather than difference to be accommodated. Disabiltiy becomes a personal flaw, and disabled people are the able-bodied gone wrong. (Thomas 49)

Like the doctor, the policies in place before ADA has more to do with making judgments based on how different the person claiming to be disabled is. What this suggests for Thomas is a method that puts a well-defined line between able ad disabled, and having everyone who is disabled receive some type of government assistance. This becomes a problem since, according her, it also suggests a personal flaw with the individual instead of the law accommodating their needs. What is essential to both the doctor and to legislation prior to ADA is placing the markers of difference as that which determines the identity of the individual.

Where Michael differs from Paul is in his ability to gain a resourcefulness of his body, seen in his attempts to practice gardening. While Paul practices writing poetry, there is a much more immediate connection to what Michael is doing to seek meaning and the body. Coetzee describes the feeling he has when looking upon what he has accomplished, describing it as follows: “All that remains is to live here quietly for the rest of my life, eating the food that my own labour has made the earth to yield. All that remains is to tend the soil” (Life and Times, 113). This shows a utilization of his body, transgressing the rules of what he should or should not be able to do due to his physical aptitude. With this kind of interpretation, instead of becoming un-disabled, he actually becomes one with it, making the most of himself with what his body has to offer. Unlike Paul, he is determined to have the construction of disability be stripped away from his personal identity.

When looking at how Coetzee places the context of his characters in relation to the outside world, such as with Michael and Paul, the goal is not to make claims regarding who is disabled and who is not, but to question the determinations used to make those claims. Like disabilities studies, Coetzee attempts to question the rules and regulations of the boundaries between the able-bodied and disabled, making the reader investigate the claims themselves as well as the characters that have chosen a side.

 

(For Works Cited, see “second section”

Leave a comment