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.

The Other Woman by Therese Bohman, translated from the Swedish by Marlaine Delargy, for Women in Translation Month

 

My heart grieves for the women who think that married men will choose them over their wives. Because a married man has sought a woman out, has felt that she would satiate a yearning for him, does not mean that he will sacrifice his perfectly comfortable, albeit boring, life for her. 

Alternatively, two of my all time favorite books, Madame Bovary and Anna Karenina, portray women who desperately abandon everything for the men that they love, and still they are not happy. Romance, illicit or otherwise, cannot fulfill the deepest hunger for love and passion.

The Other Woman had such an intriguing cover to me that I borrowed it from Boundless (the most annoying library app ever). Finding that it had been translated from Swedish made it a perfect read for Women in Translation Month which is quickly drawing to a close; furthermore, Other Press has just sent me Bohman’s latest book, Andromeda, to review. I wanted to know more about Therese Bohman’s previous work before embarking on her latest.

My whole body burns with a feeling I can’t quite define: anger, jealousy, the sense of being left out. The knowledge that I never come first. (p. 149)

Thus speaks the narrator of The Other Woman, when the initial thrill has begun to wane. She is an attractive girl in her late twenties, wanting to become a writer, but working at the Norkopping hospital kitchen in the meantime. When Carl Malmberg, a handsome doctor, offers her a ride home, she agrees. She has noticed his wedding ring, but it pales next to the shiny, dark blue Volvo that he drives. And, it seems to fall from her vision altogether when he eventually holds her in his arms, whispering lovely things in her bed.

Her life seems shabby next to his. His wife, Gabriella, and he have the finest things in a beautifully decorated apartment on the top floor of their building. Their life is ordered and complete, with children from their own marriage, and older children from the marriage Carl had before. We know nothing good can come from his liaison with this “other woman.”

The resolution is surprising, and far different than I had anticipated. Seeing how this particular relationship sorts out, combined with descriptions of intense emotion, were the thrill of the novel. As Other Press says, this book is “a passionate psychological drama where questions of power and sexuality are brought to a head.” 

The Empusium: A Health Resort Horror Story by Olga Tokarczuk for Women In Translation Month

The Empusium is one of the most wonderfully atmospheric books I have read in a long time. The forest trees, moss, and lichen create their own ominous mood:

The ritual of the fall had started, as if the proximity of death activated reserves of extraordinary energy in these trees that, instead of continuing to support life, allowed them to celebrate dying…As we know, however, the most interesting things are always in the shadows, in the invisible.

Upon closing the cover after finishing the last page, I am not entirely sure that I understand it. But, Olga Tokarczuk has given me much to ponder.

Mieczylaw Wojnicz has come from Poland to a sanatorium in Gorbersdorf, to live in a kurhaus for those suffering consumption. While he waits for a room there, he is taken to the Guesthouse for Gentleman, run by Herr Opitz. And soon after his arrival, he sees the body of a woman lying in the dining room table; it is Frau Opitz who has died.

Mieczylaw hears noises in the night, and when alone, he investigates the rooms above him. One is Frau Opitz’, where he tries on her clothes (her slippers fit him perfectly), and lies in her bed feeling great peace. The other room is an attic, containing a chair to which are attached great leather straps…the sense of foreboding is ominous.

The men at the Guesthouse for Gentleman have discussions around the dinner table, much of which consist of disparaging women. They also partake of a liquor called Schwärmerei, made from mushrooms in the forest, which tastes earthy but clearly makes their heads heavy and calms them down. 

We are told that Wojnicz has been uncomfortable all his life undressing in front of the doctors, who always insist he must remove even his drawers. At first I think this is because he is shy. Later, I come to understand it is because of what his underwear hides.

He makes friends with Thilo, who bequeaths him this photo:

They both have admired it greatly, noticing that when you look at it in certain ways you can see different things. This, I think, has something to do with the point Olga Tokarczuk is making: we see what it is that we want to see, and sometimes, our perspective shifts with the blink of an eye.

One more interesting concept…an Empusa is a shape-shifting female being in Greek mythology, a demonic ghost sent by the goddess Hecate and appearing to the ill-fated. How is it then, that The Empusium contains no women at all, unless we look more closely at Mieczylaw?

I have read this book for Women In Translation month, always an enriching experience in the book blogging world. Also, thanks to Fitzcarraldo Editions who sent me an advanced copy of this book, to be published September 26, 2024.