Remarkable…disturbing…fascinating

Nobody is better than Margaret Forster, with her clear calm prose, at delineating the fault lines of the ordinary, unexceptional and hidden lives

a mesmerizing, unsettling novel

Makes such uncomfortable reading that at times you can barely turn the page, but it’s so compelling that you have to

Perfectly paced and with superbly drawn characters, this is a compelling story skilfully told

Margaret Forster is a brilliant and prolific writer... her latest novel is one of her best… It's a gripping read

Margaret Forster is a brilliant and prolific writer... her latest novel is one of her best... The book it most reminded me of, curiously enough, was Julian Barnes's The Sense of an Ending... Barnes, of course, won the Booker for his novel. I hope that Margaret Forster gets the recognition she deserves for this one

There is no one to match [Forster] for the way her assured,subtle and careful prose can detail the insecurities, torments and problems of what are, to all surface appearances, just nondescript, unremarkable and often half-lived lives

Margaret Forster has a deft and idiosyncratic touch

A story which becomes steadily more gripping

A brilliantly uncomfortable read about the art of forgetfulness

Brilliant... You won't put this book down until its emotional end

This is a book to make you think. This is a book to forcefully turn you away from mindless entertainment and set you on a journey inwards, where you ask yourself the important questions in life. It's philosophy as fiction... Part of his achievement is down to how fit for purpose his prose is. It is remarkably sparse and yet feels dense, weighted with layers and layers of meaning

[A] moving but mysterious story of a lost childhood... Is it possible to be deeply affected by a book without really knowing what it's about? Before reading J.M. Coetzee's new novel I might have said no - but now I'm not so sure... [As] disquieting as it is moving... [All] I can say is that ever since I finished it, it's been going round and round inside my head like nothing else I've read in ages

What JM Coetzee writes matters... [A narrative mode] akin to that of Kafka... At once lucid and elusive

Reading JM Coetzee is like swimming in a sea with a calm surface and a savage undertow. His sentences are lean; his subjects menacing: power, race, animal rights and confession

Tormented states of mind, ambivalence and guilt stalk his work, as do the dual influences of Kafka and Beckett

A retelling of the gospels? A fable about Utopian, Chaves-style socialism? Coeztee moves in mysterious, but mesmerising, ways

There are knotty concerns here on reading, on order and chaos, on political engagement, on almost anything you can think of. But, “you think too much,” Elena says to Simón. “This has nothing to do with thinking.”... What Coetzee has given us is a book not of answers but of questions... Coetzee’s prose is clean and efficient, driving the reader on through the mazy stasis of life in Novilla. There is plenty of what, to avoid a cliché, we might call Kafkaish stuff... These qualities, combined with the enjoyable and unaccustomed exercise of thinking about the book – wanting to think about it – all the way through, meant that in a strange sense, The Childhood of Jesus is the most fun I’ve had with a novel in ages

There aren’t many subjects bigger than the question of faith – and with The Childhood of Jesus, Coetzee appears to have found a subject worthy of his high-level craftsmanship

An intellectual adventure

A perversely comic, intellectually profound and obscurely allegorical novel

With elegant ease, Jones spins a good old-fashioned comedy of manners