This is the second novel I've read by Coetzee. I count Disgrace among my favorite novels of all time - or I did, though my tastes have changed since I read it several years ago. The Pole is, like Disgrace, well written - crisp and clear without flash or pretension. I admire this author's command of language and ability to help me clearly imagine a scene in Barcelona, or Mallorca, two places I have never been. He also masterfully captured a moment in the life of the protagonist, Beatriz - a wealthy housewife whose children are grown. She fills her time by halfheartedly volunteering around Barcelona. It is one of these patronages that brings her in contact with the titular Pole, an aging pianist from Poland. 'As she sits through the Pole's performance of Chopin, Beatriz does not enjoy his interpretation. But her friend backs out at the last moment, and she is left to accompany the musician to dinner after the performance. Beatriz does so, then all but forgets him until he emails her.

What follows is an internal struggle for Beatriz. She knows the Pole is smitten with her and she enjoys that, though she does not feel the same. Still, she finds herself lingering on thoughts of him, enjoying his attempts to woo her. She covertly makes arrangements to be in his presence, though whether she does it because she's interested or simply for something to do is debatable. The two collide once again, on Beatriz' terms, and then part. Beatriz moves on until she learns of the Pole's death and his final bequest to her.

The relationship aspect of this novel, to be honest, is not very interesting. But I don't think it's meant to be. This is a novel about Beatriz and the Pole as separate people who are both navigating a time in their respective lives that are unfulfilling, when they feel detached from any of life's great excitement. I find it difficult to like Beatriz because her actions throughout this book are selfish, but at the same time I can relate. Nobody is above the kind of longing Beatriz experiences in this novel. To me it's a longing not for a person, or even for sex or love, but for something that has passed her by, faded into her past.

I set out to focus on the way in which Coetzee's male gaze into the inner reaches of Beatriz' mind offended me, but as I fleshed out the plot I found myself thinking, "My god, he actually got it right!" I have a feeling I'll be thinking about this book for quite some time. It might be fun to revisit Beatriz and the Pole in a few years' time, when I'm in the same stage of life as Beatriz was.

Thanks to the publisher for allowing me early access to this book in exchange for my review.

Special thanks to NetGalley and W.W. Norton & Company for the ARC.

Nobel prize winner J.M. Coetzee is back with a new novel that is slight in length, but, not unlike his previous work, deeply affecting in content. Through prose that is as precise as it is insightful, Coetzee explores the complex relationship between an elderly Polish pianist and a married Spanish woman that meet by happenstance at his performance of Chopin's work.

Not a word is wasted here. Coetzee here writes the same way his titular pianist translates the work of Chopin. The wording is formal, considered. There are whole novels here of things unsaid.

Just like in reality, just like in most relationships we will have over the course of our lives, we are not left with a truly satisfying conclusion here. But Coetzee effectively translates that complex swirl of emotion

Easing itno fition after decades. Most book I read are from the anguished in love. This one from the other side and especially with the twist that the blurb doesnt prepare you for. The ruminations of Beatriz and window into her thoughts before decisions are made, make it very unmovie like and even unbook like just like Beatriz noticing herself in the mirror and creating a distance from the imaginary/movie world that its the person in the mirror thats looking at her. Instead of art imitating life, art is the audience. The choice of foreign language divide brought an air of "lost in translation" doubt and belief to the book.

Concise, well-wrought story of relationships, love, and desire, explored through the idea of 'interpretation' - interpretation of music, of one's own perspective, of the internal stories on which one builds their life. A haunting and enticing read worth savoring.

This is my first Coetzee novel, and I'm surprised by the way it's wormed itself under my skin. The premise of this short book is simple: a pianist falls in love with a woman who doesn't return the intensity of his affections, and she narrates the story of their brief entanglement. What propels Coetzee's narrative forward is its singular focus on the problem of translation and the impossibility of ever knowing for certain what other people want, or mean, or think. From the beginning, Beatriz, the woman in question, assumes both that she completely understands her would-be paramour's desires and that she can never truly know him because they speak different languages (she refers to him as the Pole because she cannot pronounce his Polish surname). She expresses frustration at the way the Pole reduces her to an object in his conception of her, but likewise struggles to separate him from the outward manifestations of his identity: the clinical way he interprets Chopin, his aging body. She is similarly conflicted about herself, saying with confidence things that her actions immediately prove false, and obsessed with the way she appears to others despite her self-assuredness. Halfway through the novel, she stares at herself in the mirror and cannot escape the feeling that she is the person staring back at her: "What does that other see?" Coetzee's spare language and focused plot traces unsettling psychological ground, exposing the unsettling truth that there is too often space between who we are, who we believe ourselves to be, and how we are perceived.

Thank you to W. W. Norton & Company and NetGalley for the ARC!

The Pole is a septuagenerian Polish pianist celebrated for his unorthodox interpretations of his expatriate compatriot, Chopin. The Pole is J.M. Coetzee's short novel in which The Pole plays the main character in a wealthy Spanish woman's mid-life crisis. (As an enthusiast of Chopin myself, I am doubtful whether a real person inspired the character.) After the pianist gives a recital hosted by the Barcelona music society for which Beatriz volunteers, he abruptly confesses his love for her. That triggers a furious stream of ambivalent rumination in the unhappily married Beatriz as she consciously nears her fiftieth year.

Whatever The Pole is, one thing that it is not is predictable. Even with its strange, pointless, affected intrachapter numbering scheme, The Pole is a moving reflection on desire, aging, and mortality.

Many thanks to W. W. Norton (Liveright) and NetGalley for an advance reading copy of this book.

"The Pole" is a slow-drip, psychological story about an unconventional affair between Beatriz, an attractive married woman in her late-forties, and Wittold, a lonely Polish concert pianist in his seventies.

Wittold, known for his Chopin interpretations, is invited to perform a recital at the Sala Mompou in Barcelona. Beatriz sits on the board that selects musicians who are invited to perform and that runs the recitals. When another board member falls ill the day of Wittold’s recital, Beatriz unexpectedly becomes responsible for hosting Wittold and treating him to dinner after his performance. Although the dinner is uneventful, a week later Beatriz receives a package from Wittold containing a CD of Chopin Nocturnes that he recorded and a note that reads: “To the angel who watched over me in Barcelona. I pray the music will speak to her.”

Eventually, a series of correspondence and meetings occur between Beatriz and Wittold, including a brief period they spend together at a family home (of Beatriz’s husband) in Mallorca—reminiscent of the winter that the lovers George Sand and Chopin spent together in Mallorca in the late-1830s.

Despite their affair, Beatriz’s and Wittold’s feelings are not mutual. Wittold’s love for Beatriz mirrors Dante’s divine love for Beatrice in Dante’s "The New Life," while Beatriz is physically unattracted to Wittold and lacks love for him. Beatriz also controls if and when they will interact. Some readers may find Beatriz’s emotional detachment too severe. However, Beatriz’s marriage to an unfaithful husband lacks intimacy, which slowly opens her to Wittold’s attraction and devotion to her.

Following their Mallorca affair, Beatriz returns to Barcelona. Time passes and an unexpected event and situation occurs which, through Beatriz’s actions and voice, show that perhaps her tone has changed and that she loves Wittold after all. You, reader, must judge for yourself.

Thanks to #NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review "The Pole" by J.M. Coetzee, a brilliant writer I've enjoyed since first reading his Booker Prize winning "Disgrace" over twenty years ago. I learned, while in the process of reading this, that it had been the title story within a previously released collection "The Pole and Other Stories" and is being published as a standalone book in mid-September. This is a story of languages and translations - across many platforms and on many levels. It's about love, art, and the emotional confusion of navigating relationships. I enjoyed the way that it was written - in, accessible numbered "chapters" and also the use of foreshadowing in the relationship which forms between the main characters - Beatrice and Witold.
There was a dark and enjoyable thread of humor underlying all of the events in the novel. The latter is the Pole, a pianist, who is playing an event in Barcelona which, in itself, is his translation of Chopin. What I thought the novel did very well was demonstrate the muddled confusion that we, as humans, assign to situations and circumstances. This is especially true in relationships and events which provoke our egos and emotions. The worlds we create in our own minds and the thoughts, feelings, and perceptions we "assign" to others becomes the stuff of fiction. I'm going to read the rest of the collection and am so appreciative for the opportunity to read Coetzee, anytime. While this was not my favorite by him, his writing is astonishing and, as always, I'm so grateful to writers and the stories and worlds they create. It was fun spending time in Spain and Poland.

This short novel by the 2003 Nobel Prize winner, follows the love story of Wittold Walccyzkiecz and Beatriz. He is a 70years old Polish pianist and in his concert in Barcelona meets Beatriz a Spanish 50 years old married woman. She acts attentive and respectful trying to communicate with him in English and this is enough for Wittold to fall in love with her and starts acting persuasive. For him, she is his Beatrice as Dante’s love.

The novel explores the human condition and leads to reflection on the characters’ relationship. It is a good-paced short novel and very psychological. It contrasts other love relationships such as Dante and Beatrice, George Sand and Chopin, or Orpheus and Eurydice.

I enjoyed the book’s pace and it made me question this kind of love relationship. I liked the literary references and how the story ends.

Readers who like character-driven and psychological novels will enjoy this, perhaps readers with more experience in classic literature would be able to appreciate the art that references relating them to the psychological part of the novel.

This novel was published last year in Spanish and soon it will be published in English on September 19th, 2023. I was able to read an electronic ARC thanks to W.W. Norton & Company and Netgalley, in exchange for an honest review.

While I generally love Coetzee's work, there wasn't enough for me to grip onto here. The depth of emotion that this seemed to want to generate never reached me.

Thank you NetGalley for an advance copy of this book.

Describing this as a book about an affair doesn’t really do it justice. While it is ostensively the story of a brief relationship of between a famous and aging Polish pianist and a married Catalan women, what I found most interesting about it was what is says about infatuation, love, and romance—the stories we tell ourselves, the stories we tell others, and the subjectivity (and occasional irrationality/fickleness) of our feelings towards others. I also appreciated its exploration of the ways in which we are shaped and informed by people who cross our paths, even if only for a short time. In this affair there are no heroes or villains, just real people trying to achieve a moment of transcendence in a confusing world.

A short but intense read. The “ POLE” -early 70s with all of the physical signs of aging (save for his marvelous gray hair) is instantaneously attracted to Beatriz-castilian, elegant, beautiful even as she approaches 50, and in a loveless marriage. Their communication is by a formal stylized English on his part. A brief affair ensues, which she ends, and loses contact until notified several years later of his death and a collection of poems he has written for her alone.
Coetzee, himself 83, seems to me to be examining age old questions-love and what it really means, the ambivalence of relationships (especially so on her part), the- puzzle as to whether there does in fact exist an afterlife, how and by whom we are remembered-in short, all of the questions we all ponder as we approach “ the end”. A good short intense well written read.

My thanks to Liveright and NetGalley for an e-ARC of this title, to be released in the US on September 19, 2023.
Ahhh, I do love when an author like Coetzee says so much more in a mere 176 pages than some authors say in 400-600 pages.
A third person narrator gives us the story of a one sided love, of an affair, through Beatriz' eyes and mind and emotions. But, like so many others in Coetzee's work, there is a definite distancing here, an unwillingness to engage or share those emotions. Whether it be the narrator, Beatriz, or "The Pole" (who has made a career out of presenting a rather lifeless and unemotional Chopin).
How does Coetzee pack so mucn into such a slim volume (already published in Spanish in Argentina in 2022)? The amazing thing is, the tone still reminds me so much of his earlier work, published nearly 50 years ago.
I read this with his Nobel Acceptance Speech (2003) - which was not the usual speech given for that award. Rather it was a story about Defoe, Robinson Crusoe, and orginal sources. It was to the point, while being a bit confusing at the same time (because it was so different from what is usually presented at one of those events). It was more about the writer's process than any statement about the world's situation.
Read it, and more Coetzee as well........ I do keep meaning to go back and reread some of his great early work, which I first read in the mid '80's.
4.5 out of 5.

"The Pole" is the second book by J.M. Coetzee I read, "Disgrace" being the first one, remaining one of my favorite novels of all time. This time, the author tells the story of love between 70-year-old Polish virtuoso pianist Witold and a 50-year-old woman, Beatriz.

Beatriz is a patron of arts, living in Barcelona, and after attending Witold's concert, she performs her duty of entertaining the artist with dinner and conversation. She is not impressed with Witold's interpretation of Chopin, which she finds emotionless. Still, she is too polite to mention to him that her favorite pianist is Claudio Arrau - and not, by any means, Witold Walczykiewicz. The conversation could be smoother, too: they communicate in English, and it seems to Beatriz that Witold expresses his thoughts incorrectly. She is a beautiful woman, still turning men's heads in a restaurant; she is also practical and married. Conversely, Witold is a romantic, perhaps just an older divorced man looking for true love. He finds it in Beatriz.

He is an artist, but even while bringing classical love parallels of Beatrice and Dante, later, when they spend a week in Mallorca, just like George Sand and Chopin, Witold can't make Beatriz fall in love. With all her calmness and reasoning, she is flattered but doesn't want to change her life. Eventually, Witold realizes he can only dream about Beatriz and maybe, like Dante, write poems about her. His poems are written in Polish, a language Beatriz doesn't speak. And he only has a little time left.

"The Pole" was first published in Spanish, as Coetzee probably intended to say that English, though considered a global language, may not be the universal language. Love is not the universal language either. We express our feelings using language, but even hearing what one says, another person may never comprehend the meaning. In a way, "The Pole" is a novel about the inadequacy of language. There is a language barrier that stops Beatriz and Witold's relations from progressing into love. However, there is also "a feeling barrier," which is even harder to overcome. The music does not make their dialog easier, either. They both see something different in Chopin's music because the language of music speaks differently to each of them. As Witold says, "You do not understand because I do not explain well in English, not in any language, even in Polish. To understand you must be silent and listen. Let the music speak, then you will understand."

The short, austere paragraphs are brief pictures of longing, never fully expressed, yet always present. They are like photos from an album that a reader can leaf through; words are not enough, music is fleeting, and yet, there is hope in loneliness. It's a beautiful novel.

I just finished reading an advance release copy (ARC) of The Pole by J.M. Coetzee, offered by W.W. Norton through NetGalley. And the more I think about it, the more I realize what a stunning and profound novel it is. I highly recommend this novel to readers who love literary works that are probing, timeless, and authentically human.

Beatriz, the main character in the novel, is an average woman in elite circles with whom a Polish pianist falls in love. And while she knows his love is true and never questions it, she doesn’t really know why it is and doesn’t realize if or how she should reciprocate it. She only has questions…at first. Meanwhile, the overarching narrative of the novel constantly begs the question: How do all of her questions matter in the long run, if at all? Ultimately, while Beatriz professes her indifference toward the pianist, her actions and thoughts often illustrate affection and concern toward him, especially after he is gone and becomes a memory for her as she always was for him.

The Pole writes poetry for (or simply about?) Beatriz that’s meaning gets lost in translation but is still authentic and human and timeless. And even understood in some capacity, at some level. The poems essentially keep them both alive and questioning and experiencing their versions of love. The poems also emulate other timeless literary scribes, stories, and motifs, like those found in classic literature (e.g., Dante and his work). These translated poems prompt her to keep writing to the Pole, even after he is dead. So, he (the Polish pianist) is Beatriz’s pole in love and life in most respects. Their actions and personalities and words do not mirror each other but push each other to act and exist.

Overall, The Pole will encourage more astute readers to consider every question there is (or has ever been) about art and love and those who love or create art. But in a sort of ironic and subtle way. Not much drama happens throughout the novel, which ends up making its narrative all the more visceral and resonant. In a way, this novel reminds readers of the simplicity behind art and love and how or why they exist, which reminds us of how unnecessarily complex we make them. It reminds us that some things (like love) just are, and capturing them as they are and exist is both an elusive and necessary practice.

I recommend this book to a more careful reader. Or to a reader who is in the mood for a more introspective and philosophical work that’s sentimental and practical value only comes to the surface the more they think about and reflect on its content, oddly enough.

The Pole by J. M. Coetzee is at once moody and mysterious – full of tension.

This novella centers around Beatriz and Wittold. She’s a 40-something music lover; he, a 70-year-old piano master from Poland.

When Wittold comes to Barcelona for a recital, Beatriz, as a favor to her best friend who has arranged the Pole’s visit, is asked to play hostess to the pianist after his concert. This isn’t a task she welcomes, but it is made a bit more bearable by a couple of fellow patrons who join them for dinner. She doesn’t like the Pole’s music, his interpretation of Chopin. She endures the evening, thankful when it is over.

After his visit, Wittold mails Beatriz a CD of his music and arranges to visit again by teaching lessons near her. This is the beginning of Wittold’s declarations of love for her, which include an invitation to run away with him to Brazil.

It would take less than an afternoon to read this intensely psychological portrayal of a relationship between pursuer and pursued. There’s a palpable sense of want, of lacking, of expecting and maybe even hoping for more. Though over and over Beatriz says she doesn’t want a relationship with Wittold, it is obvious she is intrigued by his affection and most of her actions speak very differently.

With explicit allusions to both Chopin’s personal life and Dante and his Beatrice, connections to the arts are woven throughout. Perhaps someone more musically inclined would recognize the mood and movement of a concerto.

This mostly third-person limited narrative reminds me of the poignant accuracy with which Ian McEwan accesses inner monologues. This may be an unfair comparison since Coetzee predates McEwan and is similarly prolific, but McEwan is a bit more well-known.

This is probably unjust as well given that Coetzee has won two Booker awards – the first to do so – as well as the Nobel Prize in Literature. As for the Booker, he’s been long-listed three other times and shortlisted a fourth. Those who know my affection and reliance on the Booker understand my affection for Coetzee.

The Pole is a book I can tell will stay with me. I will turn over in my head questions about Beatriz’s motivations. For me, it is sad. And maybe for her too. Is this life? Do we secretly hope life – and the people we love or have relationships with – will be more exciting, more vibrant, and more exceptional than they are? What is our acceptance of the ordinary?

For as little as the novella The Pole requires upfront, it offers much that you’ll want to consider once you’re finished. It would make for a great discussion, and I highly recommend to those who enjoy pondering a book well beyond its close.

After the concert, Beatriz asked the Polish pianist why Chopin lives on. The Pole responds, because he tells us about ourselves, desires which are sometimes not clear to us, or for that which we cannot have. Beatriz doesn’t not understand. The Pole knows he hasn’t the English to make himself clear; listen to the music, he advices.

And at the end of the dinner, the hosts of the concert say good-bye to the pianist who thanks Beatriz for her profound questions. “I will not forget,” he tells her.

The lady forgets the pianist, returns to her life. She and her husband lead separate lives, in separate bedrooms; it is a good marriage based on respect and secrets. She didn’t like the Pole’s interpretation of Chopin, didn’t care for him, but did like how he took her seriously. No one takes her seriously.

Beatriz is shocked to hear from the Pole, who sends her CDs of his Chopin, then invites her to join him where he is teaching. Beatriz is perplexed. She does not trust him but they met again. He tells her that she is his Beatrice to his Dante, and he will love her all his life. She is confused, she is nothing like what he imagines, she feels nothing towards this man. He is over seventy, she is in her forties. She is content with her settled life. He offers his undying love. She does not know what she wants. Perhaps she pities him.

This is a strange love story, one-sided and hobbled by not having a common language, by his inability to convey passion to her cool solitude. After the Pole’s death, Beatriz still is not able to escape his devotion, their dialogue continues.

We understand Beatriz’s perspective, so that the Pole appears awkward and clumsy, the antithesis of a fervent lover. He cannot woe her with words, and even his poems to her are translated by a non-literary translator and lose their power. His Chopin interpretation had left her cold, for the music did not transport her, had no romanticism. He insists on his eternal love, which he can never fully express; even his aging body is against him.

A surprising, haunting, short novel.

Thanks to the publisher for a free book.

This book is about an elderly Polish pianist who visits Spain and falls in love in Beatriz. Beatriz at first doesn’t care for Witold, the pianist, but slowly he doesn’t leave her thoughts.

I think the book was good but I felt frustrated with Beatriz most of the time. This may well be a story of unrequited love and missed chances, but also about denial and not knowing yourself well enough. It reminded me a little of The Remains of the Day.

I enjoyed some of Beatriz’s rumination and contradictions, but in the end I was too bored with her cruelty.

On a personal level, books about aging men having affairs are entirely uninteresting to me. Actually, books about anyone having an affair tend not to do it for me.
The Pole regards this scenario differently, certainly. This novel looks at the affair, first of all, from the woman's point of view. A woman who is disinterested in general. Or old enough not to be caught up in the whims of passion. The pole's outsized admiration of this woman is really the core of the novel. A man who has put all of this meaning into another human being he barely knows. Why? Why would anyone do this?

HIS desire. HIS admiration. HIS needs. She is repelled, enticed, then repelled again. Caught up in it, but without any passion.

In the end, it's a fascinating look at an affair, at a man's desire, and at desire in general at a later age. I struggled through the beginning as I felt it was going to be another novel about a 'brilliant artist' finding 'his muse'. It is, in a way, but it isn't as well. There always seems to be this dichotomy in Coetzee novels. Personally, it was only once I finished it that the real essence of this novel reached me.

While I did not love the "love story" told, as it felt desperate and a bit aggressive, I appreciated Coetzee's writing.