Elizabeth Costello – J.M. Coetzee

This is a frustrating oddity from a writer I have really admired in the past. We follow the eponymous character, a fading Australian author, around the circuit of conferences and guest appearances as she struggles to articulate her views to apathetic audiences. Part of my problem was that I strongly disagreed with her on many of the issues discussed (animal rights, rationalism) although on occasion the arguments were worth considering. As a novel, though, the book struggles with an overtly didactic structure, lack of narrative drive and a baffling, weak last couple of chapters.

I was reminded a little of an old favourite of mine, Small World by David Lodge, a far better evocation of the literary conference circuit.