MY letter of June 9, 2008, to John Coetzee, in which I asked his permission to undertake his biography, must have reached him while he was still writing away at Summertime. My request may have raised a smile.
Here he had been since April 2005 in Adelaide writing about a fictional English biographer, Mr Vincent, engaged in the preliminaries for a biography of the dead author J. M. Coetzee. And here appears a real biographer applying to write a real biography.
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