READING CORNER
Slow Man - Amid the Hustle and Bustle of Life
*** Caught in the endless cycle of human existence, we rush into the fast-paced rhythm of life every day to survive, to pursue the good values of life. But have we ever slowed down or stopped to reflect on ourselves and realize that we remain anxious and lost people on a journey to return to the human heart, to recognize others and recognize ourselves in others and in ourselves, as though we are always "caught in the endless web of despair" (Eric Bulson) woven by the world? As critic Patrick Hayes observes in J.M. Coetzee and the Novel (Oxford University Press, 2010, p. 162): "Coetzee does not just write about personal loss but also about the emptiness of the modern human soul when they are disconnected from their own spiritual foundation." This emptiness does not only stem from loneliness but also from the fragmentation of values that once served as the foundation for human beings. In the increasingly hurried pace of life, we are swept up in the cycle of success and materialism, but the result is confusion and a sense of alienation. Coetzee, through Slow Man, skillfully points out that it is only in the moment we are forced to stop—whether by circumstance or inner compulsion—that we can truly face our own self.  Paul Rayment, after an accident that took away his ability to move, becomes a living testament to this idea. He must struggle not only with physical pain but also with the feeling of being sidelined by society. This loss, instead of completely breaking him, forces him to question the value of his life, thus opening up a profound journey of introspection where each of us can see ourselves. As philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre said, "Man is only truly free when he is aware of his own finitude." (Being and Nothingness, 1943). Through Slow Man, Coetzee has created a quiet space for us to reflect on true freedom and value amid the overwhelming pressures of modern life. In the quiet space that Coetzee constructs, every small detail becomes a mirror reflecting the fragments of existence. Paul Rayment, despite being powerless in the face of his present and past, remains a symbol of a person trying to reconnect with himself, with his memories, and with those around him. But does this connection truly bring meaning? Or is it just a loop of despair? Coetzee seems to offer no clear answer, instead allowing the reader to engage in Paul's inner dialogue. His encounters and relationships, especially with Marijana, are not merely personal aspects of affection but also a test of human endurance when facing one's own limitations. As researcher Sue Kossew notes in J.M. Coetzee and the Paradox of Postcolonial Authorship (Cambridge University Press, 2011, p. 94): "Coetzee creates characters that are both concrete and symbolic, representing the endless struggle between the desire to transcend and the harsh reality." In Paul Rayment, we see the conflict between the instinct to love and the fear of being hurt; between the desire to belong somewhere and the feeling of being disconnected from anything. He is not just an elderly man who has lost a leg, but also an embodiment of humanity pushed to the fringes of existence in an increasingly indifferent and fragmented world. To escape the hurried pace of life and the invisible pressures of modern existence, people need more than just a moment of respite; they need a mirror to reflect the shortcomings of their souls. Slow Man by John Maxwell Coetzee is that mirror, a work that not only depicts but also delves into the hidden corners of human existence. In the journey to rediscover meaning amidst the turbulence of reality, Coetzee does not tell the story in the usual way but guides the reader to questions about self-worth, the fragility of life, and the endless journey to face one's own finitude. It is in these confrontations that Slow Man becomes a call for each person to return to their true self, to overcome the judgments of life, and the boundaries they have created for themselves. Slow Man by John Maxwell Coetzee is that reminder. The work serves as one of the jolts that prompt each of us to reflect on the laws of birth, aging, illness, and death, on the loneliness of humanity in the pursuit of reclaiming the value of the self amidst the finitude of life, and within the confines of judgment... Giving us a different perspective of a "Man in a Bag" (Chekhov), John Maxwell Coetzee has chosen a telescopic viewpoint, merging the exchanges in human consciousness and thought through the main character, Paul Rayment – a symbol of the loneliness of old age, of the ultimate alienation for a life that has lost memory, homeland, and reality. The character's existence is only anchored in the obsessive attachment to the fragmented remnants of a past that still lingers within. From the image of Paul Rayment, Coetzee opens a philosophical depth about the nature of existence. It is a state of struggle between holding onto the past and facing the present, between memories that once offered comfort but have now become burdens, and cold realities that cannot be denied. As Derek Attridge states in J.M. Coetzee and the Ethics of Reading (University of Chicago Press, 2004, p. 108): "Coetzee does not just tell a story; he invites the reader to join in a journey of self-examination, delving into the limits and potentials of humanity when confronted with oneself." Paul is not just a character; he is a symbol of a type of person who has lost connection with the community and with their own self. Coetzee's deeply human perspective does not stop at feeling sympathy for an individual but expands into empathy for all those struggling amidst the relentless grind of modern society. This is what elevates Slow Man beyond the personal story of Paul Rayment, transforming it into a powerful voice about the human search for meaning in a world filled with transience and change. The "slowness" that Coetzee portrays is not only a limitation of the body but also a slowing down of the soul when a person must face the enduring sorrows of time and loneliness. Paul, with his physical and emotional wounds, becomes a model for individuals who no longer find a stable place for themselves in society. The world outside of him is no longer a place of belonging but a foreign space, full of cracks and contradictions. In this context, Paul's "slowness" is not immobility but the necessary stillness that allows him to face himself and the invisible parts of life that he had previously overlooked or could not perceive. Thus, Slow Man is not merely a story about an individual’s struggle with suffering and loss, but also an invitation for each person to stop, look inward, and recognize what has been forgotten. It is a work about the struggle between the self and the surrounding world, between the loneliness of each individual and the effort to integrate into a society that increasingly has little room for the "slow." In that still and solitary space, Paul — like each of us — finds the opportunity to restart his life, to recognize himself in a world where sometimes only slowing down allows us to truly see the meaning of existence. And in that slowing down, Paul not only confronts the deep chasms in his soul but also begins to open up a space for connections with the world around him, even if those connections are fragile and fleeting. In particular, his relationship with Marijana, the blind woman, offers Paul an opportunity to reassess his longing for love and his ability to connect. Marijana, with her own invisibility, reflects Paul's invisibility in society. Both are abandoned by society and in their silent empathy, they find support in each other. Paul's slowing down is not stagnation but a process of seeking reconnection, a way to face what has been lost and to discover a part of himself in the differences and vulnerabilities of another. In the work, Coetzee does not simplify Paul's loneliness or pain but instead delves into the complexity of emotions, of a self always in a state of fragmentation. As the critic David Attwell writes in J.M. Coetzee: South Africa and the Politics of Writing (University of Chicago Press, 1993, p. 122): “Coetzee vividly portrays the tension between the sense of alienation and the desire to find something that can be called 'home,' whether in the past or in a new relationship.” The slowing down in Coetzee's story is a profound reminder that human existence is not only defined by the speed at which goals are achieved or success attained, but also by the ability to recognize and embrace oneself in those moments of stillness—those moments that might seem insignificant, but are actually opportunities to understand oneself and the world around. Paul, in his journey to find meaning in life, shows us that sometimes, only when we stop and look at what has been forgotten within ourselves, can we truly live fully. If Kafka advises us to write about misfortune with the words of happiness, and Jane Reichhold once told her readers, "I write about sensuality with the language of love..." then John Maxwell Coetzee chooses to use words that are dry, firm, and concise (often to the point of being blunt) to delicately build the unspoken, desperate longing for Marijana, a blind Croatian woman, in Paul Rayment's unrequited love. Coetzee, with his sparse writing style, does not use flowery or romantic language. Instead, this simplicity and straightforwardness highlight Paul's silent, unrelenting desire for Marijana. In the silences and brief pauses of the story, the author subtly leads the reader into the psychological depths of the character, where emotions remain unexpressed outwardly but burn within each thought, action, and reaction. In this simplicity, Paul demonstrates a desire for sensuality not just out of physical deprivation, but from a thirst for love, a wish to experience being loved and connected with another person, especially one whom he sees as the last glimmer of hope in his solitary life. Coetzee’s choice of "dry" language reflects not only the character's psychology but also emphasizes the disconnect between reason and emotion within each person. Paul, despite his strong desires, cannot express them through words or specific actions. He can only suffer in silence, living in his own world, where these desires exist like unhealed wounds, neither to be touched nor forgotten. Coetzee does not allow these feelings to be easily exposed but lets them emerge from the gaps, from the cracks in the character's soul, further emphasizing Paul's loneliness and his indescribable despair. With the theme of sensuality, The Slow Man offers the reader different perspectives, feelings, and reflections on the core values of the present versus the secret dreams, between attitudes and emotions, between confrontation and repression, between the past and transformation... little by little, it plants in us unfamiliar views, strange impressions, and strange feelings about life, human relationships, and the dreams of existence. Some dreams will remain forever in the soul, while some impressions will quickly fade away as time flows, like water flowing and clouds drifting. Then, one day, what remains will only be what is true to the essence of beauty. Transcending space and time on the journey of reception, The Slow Man is structured with 30 interconnected chapters, like a river with many bends and twists, flowing along with the fate of the character Paul Rayment. Through the lens of the writer John Maxwell Coetzee, it marks the flow of personality and human nature, leaving an imprint on the history of the nation's soul, fraught with sorrow, loss, and suffering. The message that The Slow Man conveys to us is like a reminder of the river flowing within each of us, with two banks separating good and evil. This river will run dry if it lacks the sincerity found in the "invisible aura of life" (G. Ohsawa, The Way of Tea).
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