112 Materiality and the Modern Cosmopolitan Novel
eat. Descartes should have thought of that. The soul, suspended in
the dark, bitter gall, hiding” (p. 123). This sarcastic jibe at Descartes
(ludicrously suggesting that the souls of animals must hide to avoid
being consumed by humans) offers an important insight into Lurie’s
developing ontology. It also appears to share much with Elizabeth
Costello’s insistence that to be alive means to be a “living soul”^59 a s
well as with the Magistrate’s more subliminal statement that “every
day [... my torturer] folds the flesh aside and exposes my soul to
the light” (p. 129). Thus, although never defined in absolute terms,
the concept of “the soul” in Disgrace , and in Coetzee’s other works,
appears to be integrated into a material ontology.
The crux of Lurie’s conciliatory growth therefore lies in an onto-
logical shift that looks to the materiality of the body (animal and
human alike) as a site of spiritual worth. This ontological orientation
is crystallized in the almost ceremonial solemnity with which Lurie
disposes of the sanctuary’s euthanized dogs. Asking himself why he
has assumed the role, his answer, that he is “[taking] care of them
once they are unable, utterly unable, to take care of themselves,”
conveys an underlying belief that the body is an exclusive site of spir-
ituality (p. 146). Despite this patent ontological change, however,
Lurie nonetheless retains the distinctly self-deprecating air that has
marked his personality throughout the novel. As the internally focal-
ized narrator informs us, he performs the role of “dog undertaker”
because there is “no one else stupid enough to do it” and exhibits
his old sardonic flair for undercutting earnestness by making light
of the sentimentality of it all: “The dogs are brought to the clinic
because they are unwanted: because we are too menny ” (p. 146). This
last allusion to Hardy’s Jude the Obscure , with its somewhat labored
attempts at pathos, seems to offer reassurance that, in spite of the
profound inner changes we have witnessed in the character, Lurie’s
distinctly irreverent manner of reading the world has not been lost.
By preserving the character’s superciliousness and cynical self-
reflexivity, Coetzee therefore resists reducing Lurie’s growth to a mere
abstraction. Certainly, there are marked changes in the way he treats
other beings—in addition to his volunteer work at the animal sanc-
tuary, he also travels to Melanie’s family home to make an “earnest”
personal apology. However, whereas Lurie’s displays of penance at