Shame

Like Alvtegen’s other work SHAME only fits within the confines of crime fiction if you’re open minded about how to define the genre. I’m very comfortable with this kind of elasticity but if you’re not, consider this fair warning. It is the most aptly named novel I have come across in quite some time as it displays and dissects the shame felt by two women and the long-lasting effects these deep feelings have on their lives.

Monika is a successful doctor with a less than perfect personal life. She has never allowed herself to be properly loved but when we meet her a man called Thomas has entered her life and Monika dares to believe that things might be different this time. Just as she decides she will share her secret shame with show more Thomas and see if he still wants her a dramatic event occurs. An event that proves to Monika she is not worthy of love. Not deserving. And she must do whatever it takes to make amends.

About the only thing Maj-Britt is successful at is eating. She has become so good at it that she is virtually housebound by her obesity and needs all sorts of home help just to survive. She is also mean-spirited. And just plain mean. Many of the helpers who have been assigned to her case won’t return because she is so horrid to them. Maj-Britt has a dark secret too but even before her darkest day she was almost full to the brim with the shame of knowing she had displeased her parents and their god.

For three quarters of SHAME the stories of these two women do not overlap. Their individual sadnesses, anguish and despair are revealed in parallel but separate threads with Alvetegen’s usual sparse writing and incisive observational eye. She really does have an affinity for bringing the voice of the world’s outsiders to life. There’s no overt sentimentality or mawkishness yet no deliberate unkindnesses either. I often find attempts at this kind of characterisation are either too politically correct for credibility or have ramped up the cruelty in some misguided attempt at ‘grittiness’. Neither Monika or Maj-Britt is particularly likeable in the usual sense of the word, probably not the type of literary character that will end up on lists of fictional beings to invite to a dinner party, but I found them believable, compelling and increasingly sympathetic as their secrets were laid bare for us.

Even Alvtegen’s minor characters are pitch-perfect. The two women who end up tying Monika and Maj-Britt’s stories together in the novel’s final act are Ellinor, the latest and most robust of Maj-Britt’s home aides, and Vanja who reconnects with Maj-Britt nearly 30 years after they were teenagers together in the same small town. Both characters are deftly drawn. As are the women’s parents who – it must be said – have a good deal to answer for, especially in the case of Maj-Britt. I’ve read a lot of stories in which awful things are done to children but the depiction of the way her parents ‘deal’ with Maj-Britt’s childhood ‘sin’ left me speechless at the insidiousness of their particular brand of abuse. I have to hope it was entirely from Alvtegen’s imagination.

I was a smidgen disappointed by the book’s ending. Not hugely and only when compared with the rest of this book; it’s still a cut above the vast majority of endings I encounter. But it was a little too clunkily neat for me…and for what had gone before. Though perhaps Alvtegen was concerned about leaving her readers in abject despair. It is a minor reservation only and should not prevent you from embarking on this beautifully told, sometimes challenging and never dull tale. show less

Although I had a hard time getting my head around Maj-Britt's life story - the fanatically religious are incomprehensible to me - I think Alvtegen really did very well in getting under the skin of her and the other protagonist, Monika, as to make the story not only plausible but quite intriguing. The stakes are very high, death and severe disability, which naturally makes the reader care for these characters. There are some coincidences (necessary to tie up the plot) that are borderline deus ex machina, but the end result is still rewarding enough to forgive them.

First line:
~Dear God, take away all the war and all the violence and everything that is unjust and make it so that all the poor people have money so they can buy little food~

I don’t know what to say.

Another reviewer sums it up beautifully.

“Karen Alvtegen can keep you up way past your bedtime with these eerie stories of people gone off the curb.”

This is a psychological thriller that kept me on the edge of my seat and up waaayy past my bedtime. And it is definitely eerie. I loved this book which was my first exposure to Karin Alvtegen and certainly won’t be my last.

I have several books on the go at one time and they were all put aside so that I could focus on this one.

The characters were real. Although their lives do not mirror show more my own, in many ways I could relate to both of them. Childhood trauma inflicts deep wounds that take deep commitment to work through as adults. Both of these characters suffer greatly.

The only reason I did not give this 5 stars is because I found the ending just a little bit too neatly wrapped up. It seemed to me that the ending did not reflect reality but maybe that is a good thing. Alvtegen does leave us with some hope for all of us. show less

This book, technically, has some good fundamentals - Alvtegen clearly knows how to pace a story, how to create dramatic tension, and about how long a narrative can last. But some of the other technical aspects are sorely lacking for me, which made the book not that enjoyable to read - the sentences become monotonous; there is little new in the sentence structure or diction. And I found the story itself not sufficiently compelling to make up for those flaws.

Shame is a novel about two women, each of whom carries a secret that eats her up from the inside, until her shame becomes too much to bear. One eats herself nearly into oblivion; the other compensates by overachieving, but rejects love when it comes too close because she feels show more unworthy of it. These are classic narratives of the unhealthy impact of unaddressed shame; they are old, but have the potential to be compelling, if you can bring yourself to care about either of the characters. The plotlines are probably the most interesting thing about the book - each woman has an experience (or several) which reminds her of her original trauma, and deepens the shame she feels, sending her further down into a spiral of self-destruction. There is a promise of hope at the end, and I found it a bit saccharine at the finish.

This book might best be enjoyed by readers who are new to books focused on interiority and psychology, who wouldn't be bored by the narrative, and by readers who have a strong suspension of disbelief muscle, who wouldn't be distracted by the monotonous writing. show less

Shame is a psychological thriller of obsession, lies, and the destructive effect of religious fundementalism. A grossly obese woman, May-Britt, confined to her apartment for over 20 years receives a letter from a childhood friend, Vanja, who is serving a lengthy prison term. Then there is Monika, a physician who visits Maj-Britt, with her own obsessive secrets. Highly enjoyable.

En psykologisk thriller om to vidt forskellige kvinders møde. En udadvendt akademiker og en indadvendt social taber, der begge har lig i lasten og svært ved at overskue fremtiden, mødes tilfældigt, og alt sættes på spidsen

The story follows two women: one who is a prisoner of her own weight, stuck inside, relying on others, resentful and angry. The other is a doctor with her own sense of shame. The two finally meet and I can't say all is healed.

I found the writing amateurish, the unflattering portrayal of Masjan hardly insightful. I was irritated as I read through it quickly, for it is a small book. I only hope that the next person to read it will find more in it than I did.