This is an odd little book, no question.Paul Rayment suffers a terrible accident whilst cycling along the road in Adelaide, Australia. And falls in love with his caretaker. That's where the book takes the unexpected turn. Delving into the borderline between author and subject, between the writer and their characters, Slow Man bends the space-time of the concept of the novel further than most can without breaking the forth wall of the action entirely. I enjoyed this book, although I could easily see where it would flummox people quite easily. What helps (or perhaps hurts) is that Coetzee's ability to toss off amazing sections of prose keeps us in the dark so well about the nature of the book. A lessor writer would be seen through at once, and the reader would be able to experience the book knowing full well the ground they stand upon. Coetzee, on the other hand, masterfully keeps us mired in shifting sands, forcing the reader to continually reassess and wonder any number of questions including even whether or not the protagonist in fact died in the accident, or whether or not he even exists outside someone else's imagination. Hardly anything is simple, or as it seems, or perhaps it is. Coetzee might not satisfy you, but he's well worth reading. This little book is no exception.