恥辱 (ハヤカワepi文庫) [文庫]

   舞台はアパルトヘイト撤廃後の南アフリカ。離婚を2度経験している大学教授のデヴィッドは、若いころから奔放な性を楽しんできたが、52歳になった今でもその欲望は衰えを知らない。そんなある日、彼は20歳の女子学生に強烈に引かれ、歳の差も社会的な立場も考えずに彼女を追いまわすようになる。半ば強引に彼女と関係を持ったデヴィッドはセクハラで告発され、軽蔑されて憎まれて、追われるように大学を去る。娘が経営する自作農園に身を寄せて再生の道を模索するが、そこにはさらなる恥辱が待ち受けていた。

   本書でブッカー賞史上初となる2度目の受賞を果たしたJ・M・クッツェー。2003年には、文学的功績を認められてノーベル文学賞受賞の名誉にも輝いている。簡潔で鋭い文章を武器にするクッツェーが描くのは、新旧の思想や力が混在する社会に暮らす人々の心だ。カフカ的な不条理な展開を軸に、若さと老い、欲望と道徳のはざまで揺れる人間を冷徹なまでにまっすぐ見すえながら、読後感は決して冷たくはない。

   本書でも、主人公は性欲という泥沼の中で哀しいくらいこっけいにもがいてみせる。職も名誉も失いながら、それでも性欲に振り回されてしまう情けなさ。新しい価値観と古い価値観がぶつかり合う混乱の中で暮らす不安と無力感。だが、あまりにみじめな主人公に怒りすら感じながらも、読み手は物語から目を離すことができない。なぜなら、彼の弱さは人間（特に男性）そのものの弱さであり、彼が恥辱にまみれるとき、読み手もまた堕ちていく感覚を味わうからである。

   われわれはそうした情けなさから逃れることはできず、彼と同じくもがきながら生きていかねばならない。クッツェーの救いのない小説に不思議な温かみがあるとすれば、人生を不毛だとしながらも、苦闘する人間そのものは否定しない姿勢に共感を覚えるからであろう。（小尾慶一） --このテキストは、絶版本またはこのタイトルには設定されていない版型に関連付けられています。

After years teaching Romantic poetry at the Technical University of Cape Town, David Lurie, middle-aged and twice divorced, has an impulsive affair with a student. The affair sours; he is denounced and summoned before a committee of inquiry. Willing to admit his guilt, but refusing to yield to pressure to repent publicly, he resigns and retreats to his daughter Lucy's isolated farm. For a time, his daughter's influence and the natural rhythms of the farm promise to harmonize his discordant life. But the balance of power in the country is shifting. He and Lucy become victims of a savage and disturbing attack which brings into relief all the faults in their relationship. Chilling, uncompromising and unforgettable, Disgrace is a masterpiece.


From the Trade Paperback edition. --このテキストは、絶版本またはこのタイトルには設定されていない版型に関連付けられています。

52歳の大学教授デヴィッド・ラウリーは、2度の離婚を経験後、娼婦や手近な女性で自分の欲望をうまく処理してきた。だが、軽い気持ちから関係を持った女生徒に告発されると、人生は暗転する。大学は辞任に追い込まれ、同僚や学生からは容赦ない批判を受ける。デヴィッドは娘の住む片田舎の農園へと転がりこむが、そこにさえ新たな審判が待ち受けていた―現代文学史上に輝く、ノーベル賞作家の代表作。ブッカー賞受賞。

52歳、大学教授。2度の離婚経験あり。男はつい出来心から教え子に過ちを犯して失職し、転落していく。厳しい現実を直視できない中年男がたどる悔恨と再生の日々を描く。ブッカー賞受賞作。 --このテキストは、絶版本またはこのタイトルには設定されていない版型に関連付けられています。

David Lurie is hardly the hero of his own life, or anyone else's. At 52, the protagonist of Disgrace is at the end of his professional and romantic game, and seems to be deliberately courting disaster. Long a professor of modern languages at Cape Town University College, he has recently been relegated to adjunct professor of communications at the same institution, now pointedly renamed Cape Technical University:

Although he devotes hours of each day to his new discipline, he finds its first premise, as enunciated in the Communications 101 handbook, preposterous: "Human society has created language in order that we may communicate our thoughts, feelings and intentions to each other." His own opinion, which he does not air, is that the origins of speech lie in song, and the origins of song in the need to fill out with sound the overlarge and rather empty human soul.

Twice married and twice divorced, his magnetic looks on the wane, David rather cruelly seduces one of his students, and his conduct unbecoming is soon uncovered. In his eighth novel, J.M. Coetzee might have been content to write a searching academic satire. But in Disgrace he is intent on much more, and his art is as uncompromising as his main character, though infinitely more complex. Refusing to play the public-repentance game, David gets himself fired--a final gesture of contempt. Now, he thinks, he will write something on Byron's last years. Not empty, unread criticism, "prose measured by the yard," but a libretto. To do so, he heads for the Eastern Cape and his daughter's farm. In her mid-20s, Lucy has turned her back on city sophistications: with five hectares, she makes her living by growing flowers and produce and boarding dogs. "Nothing," David thinks, "could be more simple." But nothing, in fact, is more complicated--or, in the new South Africa, more dangerous. Far from being the refuge he has sought, little is safe in Salem. Just as David has settled into his temporary role as farmworker and unenthusiastic animal-shelter volunteer, he and Lucy are attacked by three black men. Unable to protect his daughter, David's disgrace is complete. Hers, however, is far worse.

There is much more to be explored in Coetzee's painful novel, and few consolations. It would be easy to pick up on his title and view Disgrace as a complicated working-out of personal and political shame and responsibility. But the author is concerned with his country's history, brutalities, and betrayals. Coetzee is also intent on what measure of soul and rights we allow animals. After the attack, David takes his role at the shelter more seriously, at last achieving an unlikely home and some measure of love. In Coetzee's recent Princeton lectures, The Lives of Animals, an aging novelist tells her audience that the question that occupies all lab and zoo creatures is, "Where is home, and how do I get there?" David, though still all-powerful compared to those he helps dispose of, is equally trapped, equally lost.

Disgrace is almost willfully plain. Yet it possesses its own lean, heartbreaking lyricism, most of all in its descriptions of unwanted animals. At the start of the novel, David tells his student that poetry either speaks instantly to the reader--"a flash of revelation and a flash of response"--or not at all. Coetzee's book speaks differently, its layers and sadnesses endlessly unfolding. --Kerry Fried
--このテキストは、 ペーパーバック 版に関連付けられています。

As a writer, Coetzee is a literary cascade, with a steady output of fiction and criticism (literary and social) over the last two decades. This latest book, his first novel in five years, is a searing evocation of post-apartheid South Africa; it earned him an unprecedented second Booker Prize. An uninspired teacher and twice divorced, David Lurie is a 52-year-old poetry scholar-cum-"adjunct professor of communications" at Cape Technical University. Spooked by the flicker of twilight in his life trajectory, he sees himself as an aged Lothario soon to be "shuddered over" by the pretty girls he has so often wooed; he is disappointed in and unengaged by the academy he now serves by rote; and he cannot locate the notes for his opera, Byron in Italy, in which he has placed so much reluctant hope. He is, even at his best, a man of "moderated bliss." So when he seduces Melanie Isaacs, a lithe student from his poetry elective ("She does not resist. All she does is avert herself"), he believes her to represent the final object of his desire, his last act of lush, Romantic desperation. And then he is found out. This not uncommon outrage earns him a dismissal and censure from the university committee he refuses to cooperate with in hopes of saving his job. He immediately shoves off for Salem in the Eastern Cape where his daughter, Lucy, manages a dog kennel and works her smallholding, harvesting a modest crop. Here David hopes to cleanse himself with time-honored toil. But his new life in the country offers scarce refuge. Instead, he is flummoxed to discover an unfamiliar Lucy-principled, land-devoted, with a heroic resignation to the social and political developments of modern South Africa. He also memorably encounters Petrus, Lucy's ambitious colored neighbor and sometime assistant. Petrus embodies the shifting, tangled vicissitudes of a new national schematic, and forces David to relate to the broad segment of society previously shrouded by the mists of his self-absorption. But a violent attack on the estate irrevocably alters how the book's central figure perceives many things: his daughter and her bewildering (to him) courage, the rights of South Africa's grossly aggrieved majority, the souls of the damaged dogs he helps put down at the local Animal Welfare League and even the character of Lord Byron's mistress and the heroine of his operatic "chamber-play." But this is no tale of hard-earned, satisfying transformation. It is, rather, a paean to willfulness, an aria on the theme of secca, or the drying up of "the source of everything." In Coetzee's tale, not a single note is false; every sentence is perfectly calibrated and essential. Every passage questions the arbitrary division between the "major and minor" and the long-accepted injustices propped up by nothing so much as time. The book somehow manages to speak of little but interiority and still insinuate peripheries of things it doesn't touch. Somber and crystalline, it "has the right mix of timelessness and decay." It is about the harsh cleansing of humiliation and the regretfulness of knowing things: "I lack the lyrical. I manage love too well. Even when I burn I don't sing, if you understand me." To perceive is to understand in this beautifully spare, necessary novel. First serial to the New Yorker. (Nov.) FYI: Viking accelerated the pub date after the Booker Prize was announced on October 25.
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc. --このテキストは、絶版本またはこのタイトルには設定されていない版型に関連付けられています。

Disgrace--set in post--apartheid Cape Town and on a remote farm in the Eastern Cape--is deft, lean, quiet, and brutal. A heartbreaking novel about a man and his daughter, Disgrace is a portrait of the new South Africa that is ultimately about grace and love.

At fifty--two Professor David Lurie is divorced, filled with desire but lacking passion. An affair with one of his students leaves him jobless and friendless, except for his daughter, Lucy, who works her smallholding with her neighbor, Petrus, an African farmer now on the way to a modest prosperity. David's attempts to relate to Lucy, and to a society with new racial complexities, are disrupted by an afternoon of violence that changes him and his daughter in ways he could never have foreseen. In this wry, visceral, yet strangely tender novel, Coetzee once again tells "truths [that] cut to the bone" (The New York Time Book Review).

A finalist for The National Book Critics Circle Awards
Coetzee is the only writer to have been awarded the Booker Prize twice
--このテキストは、 ペーパーバック 版に関連付けられています。

"The richness of Disgrace lies in the elegant and allegorical role reversals, the spare symbolism of the language and in the characterization. We may not like David Lurie, but in Coetzee's skillful hands we can't dismiss him without pity." -- The Globe and Mail

"Coetzee is able to dissect the human psyche with a surgeon's touch." -- The Hamilton Spectator

"Marvellous." -- The National Post

"Disgrace is a subtle, multilayered story, as much concerned with politics as it is with the itch of male flesh. Coetzee's prose is chaste and lyrical -- it is a relief to encounter writing as quietly stylish as this." -- Independent

"Disgrace is at the frontier of world literature." -- Sunday Telegraph

"J.M. Coetzee's vision goes to the nerve-centre of being. What he finds there is more than most people will ever know about themselves, and he conveys it with a brilliant writer's mastery of tension and elegance." -- Nadine Gordimer


From the Trade Paperback edition. --このテキストは、絶版本またはこのタイトルには設定されていない版型に関連付けられています。

"The richness of Disgrace lies in the elegant and allegorical role reversals, the spare symbolism of the language and in the characterization. We may not like David Lurie, but in Coetzee's skillful hands we can't dismiss him without pity." -- The Globe and Mail

"Coetzee is able to dissect the human psyche with a surgeon's touch." -- The Hamilton Spectator

"Marvellous." -- The National Post

"Disgrace is a subtle, multilayered story, as much concerned with politics as it is with the itch of male flesh. Coetzee's prose is chaste and lyrical -- it is a relief to encounter writing as quietly stylish as this." -- Independent

"Disgrace is at the frontier of world literature." -- Sunday Telegraph

"J.M. Coetzee's vision goes to the nerve-centre of being. What he finds there is more than most people will ever know about themselves, and he conveys it with a brilliant writer's mastery of tension and elegance." -- Nadine Gordimer
--このテキストは、 ペーパーバック 版に関連付けられています。

J.M. Coetzee is a professor of general literature at the University of Cape Town. He is the author of seven novels, most recently The Master of Petersburg, and of the memoir Boyhood: Scenes from Provincial Life. His many awards include the Booker Prize in 1983 for The Life & Times of Michael K, the Prix Femina and the Irish Times International Fiction Prize. J.M. Coetzee is the first author ever to be awarded two Booker Prizes.


From the Trade Paperback edition. --このテキストは、絶版本またはこのタイトルには設定されていない版型に関連付けられています。

クッツェー,J.M.
1940年、南アフリカのケープタウン生まれ。コンピュータ・サイエンスや言語学を南アフリカとアメリカで学ぶ。1974年、『ダスクランド』で長篇デビュー。『石の女』(1977)と『夷狄を待ちながら』(1980)で、南アフリカで最も権威あるCNA賞を受賞。1983年に発表した『マイケル・K』で、英国のブッカー賞、フランスのフェミナ賞を受賞するなど世界中で高く評価される。1999年発表の『恥辱』で、史上初の二度目のブッカー賞を受賞。2003年にはノーベル文学賞を受賞した。同年には『エリザベス・コステロ』(早川書房刊)を発表している。2002年よりアデレード大学で客員研究員となり、オーストラリアで執筆活動を行なっている

鴻巣 友季子
お茶の水女子大学大学院修士課程英文学専攻。英米文学翻訳家(本データはこの書籍が刊行された当時に掲載されていたものです)