Coetzee, J. M. (b. 1940)

Boyhood: Scenes from a Provincial Life

New York

Penguin Books

1997

"He does not want to know. So much does he not want to know that he can feel a hand go up inside his own head to block his ears, block his sight."

This is what he fears from her, from the person in all the world who knows him best, who has the huge advantage over him of knowing all about his first, most helpless, most intimate years, years of which, despite every effort, he himself can remember nothing; who probably knows as well, since she is inquisitive and has sources of her own, the paltry secrets of his school life. He fears her judgment. He fears the cool thoughts that must be passing through her mind at moments like this, when there is no passion to colour them, no reason for her judgment to be anything but clear; above all he fears the moment, a moment that has not yet arrived, when she will utter her judgment. It will be like a stroke of lightning; he will not be able to withstand it. He does not want to know. So much does he not want to know that he can feel a hand go up inside his own head [End Page 161] to block his ears, block his sight. He would rather be blind and deaf than know what she thinks of him. He would rather live like a tortoise inside its shell.
(pp. 161-2)

Body::Hand

Reading

Coetzee, J.M. Boyhood: Scenes from a Provincial Life. New York: Penguin Books, 1997.

06/10/2009