I couldn't wait for this novel to be over. The first half of it contains some of the most vile observations from a male lecher's point of view and near the end when I thought maybe he'd changed a bit, got a little perspective on life after a violent incident - nope. I'm not sure Coetzee's point was that all men are terrible and women are idiots to be pitied, but that's what it seemed like. And everyone comments on his "excellent" prose, but I found his writing irritating.

Anyway, I don't even want to write more about this book.