Ti Amo by Hanne Orstavik “I love you.”

 

If Ti Amo wasn’t in the fiction section of the library, I would have thought I was reading a letter. Or, more accurately, a personal journal entry. 

It is exquisite in its poignancy.

At first, I was apprehensive about reading a novel in which the narrator’s husband is dying of pancreatic cancer. The pain is raw, and the description of his suffering is graphic.

But then, the novel evolves into being more about her than him. Suddenly, quite near the end, she discloses an attraction to a man who is only called A; he has come to meet her on a book tour for one of her books in Guadalajara, Mexico.

She does not betray her husband. She writes this about meeting him four years earlier:

It was when I was writing Over the Mountain that I met you. I wrote myself into a place then where our coming together became possible, I knew that the work I was doing in writing that novel, approaching the girl-child parts of me from which I’ve detached myself all my life, despised and shunned, was in order to ready myself to live in nearness to another person and love them. Because if I couldn’t be near the vulnerable, soft and silly girly parts of me, the parts that so yearned for affection, how could I believe I could ever allow another person to be? Another person can’t make me love what I despise about myself, therefore if I hate myself I can never feel loved. And I longed for someone to love. (p. 108)

We learn about the process of dying, as we read, and what it does to a couple who love each other. But perhaps more importantly, to me at least, we learn about how we must also love ourselves. 

Professor Andersen’s Night by Dag Solstad “…he kept himself at a certain distance, he had always done that…”

 

Silly me. I was intrigued to read this book not only for the Norwegian challenge I have put forth, but also because I thought it would be a kind of thriller. Professor Andersen’s Night by Dag Solstad has, at its core, a murder. And I love Scandinavian noir. But, this is noir of an altogether different kind.

On Christmas Eve, Professor Anderson sets the table in his dining room. He changes into formal clothes, and serves ribs with crisp crackling from his own oven. We think, perhaps, that he is preparing a party. But, no, he sits down and eats all by himself, taking his coffee and cognac to sit before the fire when he has finished his meal.

“That’s odd,” I think, for even to an introvert such as myself, this seems like a tremendous amount of effort for one’s own holiday celebration. Even more odd is that when he stands looking out of his window he sees a beautiful young woman in the window across from him. Suddenly, a man appears behind her, puts his hands around her neck, and with flailing arms she falls to the ground. Apparently, she has been murdered.

We never see the body. We don’t know for certain if she has been killed. We don’t even if this event really occurred, or if it is just Professor Andersen’s imagination. What we do know is that he doesn’t report the event. He goes about his business, accepting a dinner invitation with friends, and then flying to visit a colleague in another city, all the while consumed with what he witnessed and what he should have done. When it is entirely too late.

Professor Andersen is a professor of literature, and the author of his own bizarre life. He is removed from people; more interested in how he appears to them, than how he connects with them. 

“…he kept himself at a certain distance, he had always done that and it had become more and more important to him over the years.” (p. 113)

What is important to him is having a well-organized life. He makes assumptions that aren’t necessarily true. He is passive. Removed from people on any level beyond the superficial. He lives alone and chooses to be almost completely isolated.

New Directions, who publishes the book, says, “Professor Andersen’s night is an unsettling yet highly entertaining novel, written in Dag Solstad’s signature concise, dark, and witty prose. “He’s a kind of surrealistic writer, of very strange novels,” Haruki Murakami wrote. “I think he’s serious literature.”

If this novel is meant to portray society today, as I have read, then I fear for us. 

If comedy is not far from tragedy, then Solstad’s writing is very witty indeed. 

Norway in November: The Other Name Septology I-II by Jon Fosse

 

In a way that is similar to the photograph I took of this bird and its reflection in the water, Fosse gives us a reflection of two men; one may be real, and the other a shadow. One may be transformed from the other into the person he has now become. Whatever the case, I have been intoxicated by the story of Asle. And, Asle.

The first is a painter, who begins his narration by telling us of the painting he has just finished. It is one wide line of purple, and one wide line of brown, crossing each other like a St. Andrew’s Cross. Like the photograph above; two images intersecting into one.

Asle goes into town, stopping at a park where he sees a man wearing a long black coat just like his. The man pushes the woman in a swing, and Asle hears their entire conversation which he transcribes for us. (Is he seeing this interaction, or remembering it?)

When he continues on his way, he thinks he must stop at Sailor’s Cove to see Asle, who is shaking and trembling from too much drink. Again, Asle (the narrator) gives us specific details about Asle (the drunk) shaking in his apartment, looking at his dog, Bragi, as he pours himself another drink.

But, Asle carries on into town, where he buys canvas, wood from the hardware store, and an open face, ground beef sandwich for lunch.

After he has unloaded his supplies at home, he realizes he really must go back and check on Asle in Sailor’s Cove. And so, tired as he is, he drives into town for the second time. 

Lo and behold, he finds Asle in the street! Lying in the snow, outside of The Lane, quite unaware and unable to get up. Asle helps Asle to stand, and takes him to a diner for dinner. For warmth. But, it is clear that the drunk Asle is very, very ill, and after taking him to The Clinic in a taxi, Asle is then admitted to the hospital.

I will stop retelling the story here, for soon you may not find a reason to read it yourself.  But, I can’t emphasize the beauty of the writing enough; it’s as though I know Fosse, or better yet, Fosse knows me.

This can’t be just because I’m (part) Norwegian too, can it? How can a person write of one’s past, one’s thoughts, one’s career, with such relevance to my own? I am not a painter, by any means, yet his words resonant with who I am. Like this:

“…tomorrow the same as every other day, yes, since he was maybe twelve years old, somewhere around there anyway, there hasn’t been a single day when he didn’t either paint or draw, it just happens by itself, that’s how it is, like it’s him in a way, painting is like a continuation of himself…” (p. 47)

This is exactly how I am concerning my need to write in my notebooks…and, there’s this:

“…I always tend to think I’m not allowed to do things, that’s why I always do the same things over and over…” (p. 49)

Or, this:

“…I like driving as long as I don’t have to drive in the cities, I don’t like that at all, I get anxious and confused and I avoid city driving as much as I can…” (p. 61)

Or, this:

“…and as for anything to do with maths I can’t do it, that’s for sure, and nothing with writing either, or, well, actually to tell the truth it’s pretty easy for me to write…” (p. 210)

Or, this:

“…it’s in the silence that God can be heard, and it’s in the invisible that He can be seen…” (p. 212)

And finally this:

“…it’s not often I pray in my own words, and when I do it’s for intercession…if I pray for something that has to do with me then it has to be let me good for someone else, and if it specifically has to do with me then I pray that it should be God’s will that it happens…”

The Other Name is written in a contemplative, dreamlike stream of consciousness, relating a deep introspection…there seems to be a deep sorrow just beyond reach, as if he is trying to define it. Or, explain it. We wonder, as we close the final pages, are the two Asles namesakes? Relatives? Old friends? 

Or, as is my personal belief, is one redeemed and the other not?

The Other Name Septology I-II by Jon Fosse (the first 100 pages) for Norway In November

 

‘And I will give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name written, which no one knows except him who receives it.’ — Revelation

One of the things that immediately draws me in to this contemplative, deeply introspective, novel is the way that Fosse speaks of faith.

From the epigraph on, faith is a recurring theme. We read the quote from Revelation (above), and then open to the very first page where Asle has painted a picture “with the two lines that cross in the middle, one purple line, one brown line…and I’m thinking this isn’t a picture but suddenly the picture is the way it’s supposed to be…” (p. 12)

I carry blithely on in my reading, marking more passages pertaining to faith such as this one:

“…it’s always, always the darkest part of the picture that shines the most, and I think that that might be because it’s in the hopelessness and despair, in the darkness, that God is closest to us.” (p. 96)

and this:

“…I say that no thing, no person, creates itself because it’s God who makes it possible for things to exist at all, without God there’s nothing, I say…since nothing can exist without God sustaining it, without God having made it exist, given it being  as they put it, then it’s He who is, it’s He that everything has in common, yes, God says Himself, about what we should call Him, that His name is I AM, I say…” (p. 99)

And then suddenly, a thought begins to crystallize in my mind about Asle, the one who is a painter in Dylgja sharing his thoughts with us, and Asle, the one who is shaking from drinking too much in Sailor’s Cove. These are the points I want to talk about in future posts.

I do hope you have a chance to read this with me. There’s so much I want to discuss…

Welcome to Norway in November (and Review Site)

 

I am so excited to begin Norway in November. Long have I been selecting the choices, from which I will read, and anticipating the reread of The Other Name: Septology I-II by Jon Fosse. Pictured above you will find:

Kristin Lavransdattar by Sigrid Undset

Ti Amo by Hanne Orstavik

Trilogy by Jon Fosse (comprised of three novellas, this work received the Nordic Council’s Prize for Literature in 2015, and could be read for Novellas in November, too, hosted by 746 Books and Bookish Beck)

Septology: The Other Name I-II by Jon Fosse

and The Bookseller of Kabul by Asne Seierstad (which is not in the photograph because I have temporarily misplaced it). This book is nonfiction, which could be read for Nonfiction November, for whom one of the hosts is Readerbuzz.

These are books most fiercely calling my name, and from which I will be reading and reviewing this month. Oh, that November was longer!

Please join in my reading anything translated from Norwegian this month, and leave the link to your review for us to enjoy below:

What I’m Seeing, What I’m Reading

 

I stand in awe at the colors of October.

Who could imagine such glory and bounty?

Even the quietness of a still lake is glorious to me…

as we transition from Summer into Autumn.

I have picked up and laid down many books this month. I can’t even remember what happened in An Event In Autumn by Henning Mankell well enough to describe it to you. Sadly, I can remember Heaven and Earth Grocery Store by James McBride enough to tell you I abandoned it halfway through. It is for Book Club on Wednesday, a club which now seems to consistently pick bestsellers; they never please me. Even in reading, I seem to be off the beaten path.

Instead I have been entranced by Robert McCammon’s Speaks the Nightbird. What a book! It is perfect for R.I.P. XIX, but I would enjoy it any time, not just for an eerie autumnal read. The atmosphere, the writing, are magnificent, and the story has me lost for hours in an evening.

Before I go, I will add a reminder for Norway in November, should you wish to join. Simply choose a work which has been translated from Norwegian to English, and leave a link in the review site here (which I will soon put up). There are books which also coincide with Nonfiction November, as well as

Novellas in November. I would be happy to recommend some if you would like, just let me know in your comment.

Cold Hearts by Gunnar Staalesen (translated from the Norwegian by Don Bartlett)

I had little or no idea of her background, but for reasons unknown she had chosen to make her living roaming the streets as a prostitute in Bergen, a coastal town with several hundred years of such activity. But once, not a very long time ago, in an overcrowded metropolis or in a frozen rural district, she has been someone’s little daughter, a small girl who played with tatty dolls, if she had any, a schoolgirl who had taught herself to read, heard about Brezhnev and Kosygin and other famous people, had her first lover, if she hadn’t been raped by a brutal stepfather, a precocious boy or a seaman on leave; one small person on her way into life, later across the border in the neighboring country in which she stayed long enough to acquire the local dialect before moving south to the town where all too abruptly she would end her days, without anyone knowing where she came from or who she was. (p. 154) 

I probably should have started reading the Varg Veum detective series with the very first one, but Arcadia Books sent me Cold Hearts a long time ago and so here is where I started.

Veum is a private investigator, much like Robert B. Parker’s Spenser, or John MacDonald’s Travis McGee, they are men who are strong and determined, in pursuit of justice, and compassionate. Veum is different, though, as he is Norwegian. The descriptions of the scenes and the streets, the restaurants and the stores, allow me to sense that I am there. Even if I can’t pronounce the names.

A former classmate of Veum’s son comes to his door, telling him that her friend, Maggi, has disappeared. They are street walkers, girls who turn tricks in desperation to survive, as they can find no other options in which to make a living. Often, they have been abused and turned to drugs.

It is extremely difficult for Varg to find Maggi; he must stumble through all kinds of other people first. He discovers that her brother is also missing, and worse than that he is missing from prison where he was incarcerated for killing a PE teacher. (Not that I have pleasant memories of gym classes, myself; they were the worst part of going to school.)

Also, two horrific characters named Kjell Malthus and Rolf Terje Daley have beaten up someone named Lars, after stealing all the heroin he had been transporting from Denmark.

To top it off, Carsten Mobekk has been found brutally murdered in his own home. He once was the head of a committee that had sought to help Maggi, her brother, Kalle, and her sister, Siv, as they were impoverished children with ineffective, to say the least, parents.

How does this tie in with Maggi’s disappearance? Unlike most American thrillers, the writing is complicated and unpredictable. I am transported to a world which is not my own, not only by profession(s), but also by culture. No wonder Cold Hearts is an international best seller with over 2 million copies sold. 

Norway in November Sign Up Post

Word is getting around that I am hosting Norway in November this autumn. It comes from a great passion I have for Jon Fosse, but other Norwegian authors as well. I have recently finished Emily Forever by Maria Navarro Skaranger, and Kristin Lavransdattar Book I: The Wreath by Sigrid Undset, both outstanding books about young women, although the later is set in the 14th century, and the former is in the present time. They each had something to teach me…

In November I am planning on focusing on Jon Fosse, however, rereading Septology (for the third time) as it is so profound. If you choose to join us, which I hope you do, you need not focus on him.  Please choose any work originally written by a Norwegian author and tell us your thoughts. I look forward to reading about what you have chosen!

Leave your name and the post about your choice(s) here if you would like to participate:

Sunday Salon: Let’s Talk about Norway in November, Specifically Some Book Suggestions

I could recommend Japanese authors from now until Tuesday. But, Norwegian authors? Not so much. In fact, some whom I thought were Norwegian are actually Swedish. So clearly, the hostess has things to learn herself. 

I have been searching for some highly recommended books which I leave for you here, in pairs instead of single images as that will make the post a bit shorter. I hope you find something which appeals to you should you choose to join us this Norway In November. (Some of them apply for Nonfiction November or Novellas in November as well.)

Hunger by Knut Hamsun

Kristin Lavransdattar  by Sigrid Undset

A Doll’s House by Henrik Ibsen

The House with the Blind Glass Windows by Herbjorg Wassmo

The Bookseller of Kabul by Asne Seierstad 

Sophie’s World by Jostein Gaarder

Out Stealing Horses by Per Petterson

The South Pole by Roald Amundsen

The Kon-Tiki Expedition by Thor Heyerdahl

The Werewolf by Aksel Sandemose

The Birds by Tarjei Vesaas

Giants in the Earth by Ole Edvart Rolvaag 

The Other Name by Jon Fosse (I-II)

I Is Another by Jon Fosse (III-V)

A New Name by Jon Fosse (VI-VII)

(These three books comprise the volume entitled Septology. after which Jon Fosse won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2023. I read them singly, as they were not all published when I began reading, and I recommend taking them slowly, one by one.)

Aliss At the Fire by Jon Fosse 

(perfect for Novellas In November)

A Shining by Jon Fosse

Trilogy by Jon Fosse

Scenes from a Childhood by Jon Fosse

Well, you can see that I have listed more books by Jon Fosse than any other, but that is because he has become one of my favorite authors. I have read The Other Name, I is Another, A New Name, Aliss At the Fire, and Scenes From a Childhood (which are short vignettes of the most piercing nature). I still look forward to reading Melancholy I-II and Trilogy, as well as A Shining. Obviously, there are so many more Norwegian authors to discover; I have only attempted to whet your appetite here, in the hopes that you will join us this November. A review site is soon to come…

I have linked this post with Sunday Salon, as this is what is uppermost in my mind today.

Norway in November…A New Literature Challenge Because I Am A Fosse Fanatic

It began with a simple comment on Sunday Salon, wherein I mentioned that Jon Fosse has become my new favorite author, which indeed, he has. Even before he won the Nobel Prize in Literature last October, I knew I had read someone who felt like he understood me. So often I read because I feel in sync with the author, but this time, I felt he was writing what I had no words for. (I’m speaking of Septology.)

My blogging has been in decline; I have switched from one platform to another, and I find it a challenge to discuss Japanese literature any more. My father says, “Things have a beginning, a middle, and an end.” And I feel very strongly that I am in need of a new beginning (which is part of why I left WordPress and returned here). I’m wondering if you are interested in reading some Norwegian literature with me?

Perhaps you have heard of Norwegian crime writers, such as Karin Fossum or Gunnar Staalesen. Maybe Jo Nesbo? If you are in the mood for something more action filled, you may wish to pick up a psychological thriller. Believe me, they are nothing like an American thriller, which seems to follow the same plot line over and over again. (The Girl…fill in the blank.)

Or, you may prefer a classic work with more historical value, such as something written by Henrik Ibsen or Knut Hamsun. 

If you’re planning to read for Nonfiction November, there are several options, as well options for Novellas in November; I think it’s fun to combine reading events.

I am going to leave a compilation of Fosse works published by Fitzcarraldo Editions, with a much more complete list of Norwegian authors to come, hoping that something will catch your eye and you’ll join me in Norway this November. I’d surely hate to go alone.

Melancholoy I-II by Jon Fosse

Septology by Jon Fosse

I Is Another by Jon Fosse

A Shining by Jon Fosse

Selected Jon Fosse

A selection of books by Jon Fosse, awarded the 2023 Nobel Prize in Literature ‘for his innovative plays and prose which give voice to the unsayable’, in Damion Searls’s translations.

Included publications:

• A Shining, Jon Fosse, Fiction
• Scenes from a Childhood, Jon Fosse, Fiction
• Melancholy I-II, Jon Fosse, Fiction
• Aliss at the Fire, Jon Fosse, Fiction

Sunday Salon: August, the month that was

The 20 Books of Summer turned into 15 for me. But, they were a good fifteen; I had a wonderful Summer of reading. My favorite books from the list include Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry, Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert, and Scenes From A Childhood by Jon Fosse. The first I read for Classic Club Spin #38. The second I read for Paris in July. The third I read because Jon Fosse has become my favorite author, replacing Haruki Murakami who formerly held that position ever since I hosted the first Japanese Literature Challenge in 2006. (Does this mean I should host a Norwegian Literature Challenge sometime? 🤔)

And now for something completely different: are you waking up with golf ball sized welts that seem to have come from nowhere? My son was so terrified his new apartment had come with bedbugs that he called Orkin, and for $300.00 had the whole thing sprayed. I’m afraid they took advantage of him for it doesn’t appear that bedbugs are the culprit. No, in Illinois the culprits are Oak Mites, which feast on eggs the cicadas have left behind. You can’t see them. You can’t feel them sting you. But the itch that they leave behind is nearly intolerable. None of the creams we have bought are terribly effective; the best thing I’ve found is holding an ice cube up to my skin until it melts. 

Also, staying inside and reading on the couch helps. I have begun reading for the R.I.P. XIX, which runs from September 1 through October 31. No longer does Carl from Stainless Steel Droppings run the event (where have so many of my blogging friends gone?!). Instead, you can post, and read about Readers Imbibing Peril, on Instagram at #ripxix.

It is sad to say goodbye to Summer. There has been such joy in swimming at Centennial Beach, and participating in all the reading adventures so many have provided. Thank you Cathy, and Emma, for hosting your reading challenges. Thank you Deb Nance for hosting Sunday Salon all this time! 

Happy September to all.