Foe by J M Coetzee (ThAct)

 This task is given by Megha ma'am. 

• Write a blog on Comparative and critical analysis of Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe and j.M. Coetzee's  Foe. 

Ans. Comparative and Critical Analysis of Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe and J. M. Coetzee’s Foe

Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe (1719) is one of the earliest English novels and a cornerstone of adventure and survival fiction. It presents the story of a man cast away on an uninhabited island, who builds a new life through courage, faith, and industriousness. More than just an adventure story, the novel reflects the spirit of its age — an era of exploration, colonization, and economic individualism. Nearly three centuries later, J. M. Coetzee’s Foe (1986) revisits Defoe’s classic narrative but transforms it into a postcolonial and metafictional critique. Through his re-imagined characters and fragmented narration, Coetzee exposes the silences, exclusions, and power structures hidden in the original text. Reading both novels together reveals how the idea of storytelling itself evolves — from affirmation and mastery in Defoe to questioning and subversion in Coetzee.

In Robinson Crusoe, the protagonist’s journey is a tale of individual triumph. Shipwrecked and alone, Crusoe uses rational thought, practical skills, and faith in divine providence to survive and dominate his environment. His success mirrors the ideals of the Enlightenment — the belief in human reason, labor, and progress. Crusoe turns the wild island into a miniature version of England, establishing order, cultivation, and property. This self-reliance and resourcefulness symbolize the emerging capitalist spirit of eighteenth-century Europe. He becomes not only a survivor but also a self-made man, whose isolation transforms into mastery. At the same time, the religious undertone of the novel suggests that Crusoe’s survival is guided by Providence; his spiritual awakening parallels his material success. The story celebrates human endurance, moral reform, and faith in divine order.

Yet the same qualities that make Robinson Crusoe a symbol of progress also reveal its deep colonial mindset. Crusoe’s relationship with Friday reflects the hierarchy of master and servant that characterized European colonialism. Crusoe names, teaches, and converts Friday, treating him as a subject to be civilized. The island becomes a colonial space where European knowledge and faith dominate the native and the natural world. Crusoe’s language, religion, and order erase Friday’s culture and voice. Thus, while Defoe’s novel promotes adventure and self-discovery, it also justifies European authority and ownership over both land and people. What appears as a heroic narrative of survival can also be read as a symbolic conquest of the “Other.”

Coetzee’s Foe rewrites this foundational story from a radically different perspective. The protagonist here is Susan Barton, a woman who is shipwrecked and finds herself on an island inhabited by Cruso and Friday. The addition of a female narrator immediately shifts the focus from mastery to marginalization. Susan, unlike Crusoe, cannot impose her will upon the island or upon language. Cruso, an aged and weary man, is no longer the energetic conqueror; his authority is fading. Most strikingly, Friday has no tongue — his silence becomes the central metaphor of the novel. He embodies all those erased from history: the enslaved, the colonized, the voiceless. Through Friday’s silence, Coetzee reminds readers that the so-called “universal” stories of Western civilization are built upon silences and exclusions.

In Foe, Coetzee also questions the very act of storytelling. Susan Barton’s attempts to narrate her experience are complicated by the figure of Mr. Foe, the writer who wants to reshape her story into a marketable adventure. The novel thus becomes a story about writing itself — who tells the story, who controls it, and what voices are left out. Coetzee refuses a single, authoritative version of events; instead, he presents fragmented letters, shifting perspectives, and unfinished endings. This structure contrasts sharply with Defoe’s clear, chronological narrative. While Robinson Crusoe gives the illusion of certainty and control, Foe exposes uncertainty, absence, and the limits of representation. Through this, Coetzee performs a postmodern critique of authorship and a postcolonial critique of imperial storytelling.

The treatment of nature and isolation also differs greatly between the two works. In Defoe’s novel, the island is a space of self-discovery and mastery. Crusoe tames the wilderness, transforming it into a productive and moralized space. In Coetzee’s version, the island is bleak, unyielding, and filled with silence. It resists interpretation and refuses to become a symbol of human victory. For Susan and Friday, the island is not a site of creation but of erasure. This shift in setting reflects a shift in worldview — from the optimism of Enlightenment rationalism to the skepticism of postcolonial and postmodern thought. Coetzee’s island stands as a reminder that history is not only made by those who speak but also haunted by those who cannot.

Religion and morality, central in Robinson Crusoe, are replaced in Foe by moral ambiguity. Defoe’s Crusoe sees his journey as guided by God’s will; each hardship is a lesson in faith. Coetzee removes divine assurance altogether. His characters search for meaning in a world where providence is silent. The focus is no longer on redemption but on representation — on the ethical responsibility of giving voice to the silenced. The spiritual confidence of Defoe’s time becomes, in Coetzee’s world, a crisis of conscience and a meditation on the ethics of storytelling.

Economics and labor also take on different meanings. Crusoe’s industriousness on the island reflects the values of early capitalism — work, property, and accumulation as moral virtues. Coetzee subverts this ethic. Cruso’s endless terracing of barren land yields no crops, symbolizing the futility of colonial labor and the emptiness of economic mastery when detached from human empathy. Instead of a productive colony, Coetzee gives us a sterile island — a metaphor for the moral barrenness of imperial ambition.

Ultimately, Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe and Coetzee’s Foe stand as mirror images across centuries. Defoe’s work constructs the modern self — rational, industrious, and dominant — while Coetzee’s dismantles that construction, exposing the violence and silences it conceals. One celebrates the power of human reason and divine order; the other questions the ethics of power and the reliability of narrative itself. Defoe’s Crusoe speaks for his world; Coetzee’s Friday, in his silence, speaks for all those excluded from it.

In conclusion, the dialogue between these two novels shows the evolution of literature from affirmation to interrogation. Robinson Crusoe embodies the confidence of early modern Europe — a belief in progress, mastery, and faith. Foe reflects the late twentieth-century awareness of history’s shadows — the unspoken stories of women, slaves, and the colonized. By rewriting Crusoe, Coetzee does not merely retell a classic tale; he reclaims the right to question who has been silenced in the making of that tale. Together, these two works invite readers to look beyond adventure and survival, and to consider how every story carries within it both a voice and a silence.