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Coetzee, for me is really an angel. He knows how to touch the heart. Most of the sections of the book were so absorbing that I felt the need to pause for a moment to breath.

His tender heart, Summer Vacations on farms, money crisis of childhood, love for books, sport fanaticism, bully kids in school, attention on wealthy kids in school, scout guiding, differences between Catholics and Jews, mother's love and her sacrifices for him, fantasies during school days for sex and how babies come, the blood of white and black people, Afrikaans and Coetzee's unwillingness to acceptance or denial of their culture, English culture and urge to into sophisticated meshes of it, burning of heart by seeing poor people, animal killing, death of an Aunt abandoned in obscurity of illness and funeral and later dead display of emotions, thirst for ambition, ineptitude of playing outdoor games, mediocrity in school...

It was exactly my story, at most of the places.... Except the place, time, people but same idiosyncrasy, interest... I really wish I could meet Coetzee one day and tell him how I felt the resemblance of my childhood in this book.

Coetzee, for me, is JESUS.

There was no story but profoundly strewn descriptions...