Eleventh novel, book eighteen (In the original Norwegian “Ellevete roman, bok atten”, Dag Solstad, 1992)
This existentialism-tinged Norwegian novel really transported me. It’s about a middle-aged man and his ordinary life, that he somehow tries to change. He seems quite detached from life, and expresses disappointment with his existence. At first I thought it would deal with mid-life crises and revolve around themes of reinventing oneself after the first half of life failed (as in Saul Bellow’s “Seize the Day”), but it turned out to be something much more weird. The events of the story is described as “a great No”, meaning the man says “No” to his existence, which calls into mind Enrique Vila-Matas ingenious book-essay on “the writers of the No” (“los escritores del No”).
The first 40 or 50 pages or so describe a man having left his second wife (although they never married) and gives a detailed account of how his life was before he moved in with this woman, who is called Turid, and how life was with her. He had a two year old son when he left his first wife to live with Turid, and now he leaves her too. During his time in this town where they have lived for almost 15 years they found time to be active in the local theatre group, which provided them with friends and (in the case of Turid) opportunities to flirt. This doesn’t really matter much later in the book, but it sets up a foundation of Björn Hansen’s life. But he is now on his own. He takes walks with his friends, tries to adjust to his new situation. One day, he receives a letter from his son, who asks if he can live with him as he is about to enroll as a student in his particular town. The novel then veers into an interesting portion that discusses his son, how his son is unlike him, and how he fails to understand him. The last part of the novel, about his “project”, details about which I won’t divulge much to spare a presumptive reader any spoilage, is quite possibly the weakest part. It seems too far-fetched, a bit out of step with the admittedly hazy and uncertain prose style of the book. I liked all the details about the son, it reminded me of certain details I picked up in films I saw growing up. I also was impressed by the writer Dag Solstad’s ability to describe the dynamics of a theatre group so believably. This book has since publication 1992 seen two sequels (published in 2010 and 2019, respectively). Final note: I don’t understand why they accepted this clunky title. Is it to convey a sense of meaninglessness, that the author shares with his protagonist?
Kinship of all Species 