...We were to talk only of literature, but my opening question was greeted by dead silence. Coetzee was writing the question on his notepad. He pondered it for several seconds, then proceeded to analyze the assumptions on which it was based, a process that offered some sharp insights into my intellectual shortcomings but revealed absolutely nothing about Coetzee himself. All my questions were similarly treated, and I wound up sounding like a reporter for a fanzine.
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