Love

This novella tells the story of one evening through the eyes of two people, Vibeke and her son Jon. It starts with Vibeke daydreaming on her way home from work - thinking about the latest romance she read and realising with a start that she has been driving in the dark without her lights on. We then see Jon, waiting with every fibre of his being (in the way that young children do) for Vibeke to get home. "And then she comes, and he recognizes the sound in an instant; he hears it with his tummy, it's my tummy that remembers the sound, not me, he thinks to himself". Vibeke comes in, and puts her bags away, thinking about the handsome engineer she met that day, for so long that I turned back to the front page to make sure that the two show more people were actually inhabiting the same story, and it wasn't a clever bit of authorial misdirection.

And so the story continues - Jon pottering about, secure in his belief in his mother's love. It's the evening before his birthday so when he gets home from playing to find the house locked and dark, he assumes that she's gone to the store because she had forgotten some crucial ingredient for his cake. He does not suspect that in fact she's gone off for a drink (and more) with a carny who has caught her eye.

The way that this story is told is very effective - in the way that it shifts the point of view from mother to son and back again, and even more in the way that it gradually builds up a picture of both people's inner lives, and you realise just how little they actually overlap. I admired the craft a lot more than I actually liked the book, but I know that there are many Ørstavik fans out there and I think I will read another of her books, maybe [The Pastor]. show less

Love, Hanne Ørstavik’s acclaimed novella (originally published as Kjurlighet in 1997), tells a haunting and ultimately tragic story of a young mother, Vibeke, and her son, Jon, who have recently moved from a city to a much smaller town in northern Norway. It is late in the day, late in the year and very cold. Jon is anticipating tomorrow, his 9th birthday, and the celebration he is sure his mother is planning. After supper Jon leaves to sell raffle tickets for his school sports club. He wants to be out for a while, to give his mother time to bake the cake and wrap his presents. But the old man at the first house he approaches buys all the tickets. So, Jon returns home, but quickly leaves again, for the same reason as before. In the show more meantime, Vibeke has taken a shower. She’s pleased with how her new job is going and thinks she deserves a treat, which for her is a trip to the library to return the books she’s read and to borrow new ones. Vibeke lives in her head, reading non-stop, fantasizing romantic encounters. She’s also fixated on her appearance and preoccupied with making a good impression on her new work colleagues. Jon is not her priority. She’s forgotten his birthday, and through inattention and distraction has not seen her son leave the house the second time. When she calls out for him and he doesn’t answer, she thinks, “Most likely he’s doing something in his room.” Vibeke prepares herself, goes out, gets in the car and drives off. The remainder of Ørstavik’s novella is concerned with Jon and Vibeke’s various encounters, which have a random quality about them but movingly demonstrate the emotional distance that exists between mother and son—one self-obsessed and looking for love, the other distracted by expectations and the newness of everything around him—and the vastly different manner in which they approach and perceive the world. Ørstavik’s third-person omniscient narrative flits back and forth between Jon and Vibeke, sometimes from one paragraph to the next, in a way that might be jarring but acts as a constant reminder of the separate worlds that mother and son occupy and, as the evening progresses, the diminishing odds of them reconnecting. Ørstavik’s prose, expertly rendered into English by Martin Aitkin, gleams like the frozen landscape it so capably evokes. Love is an odd and disturbing little book that places a clear-eyed focus on how each of us is confined to a discrete universe of awareness and emotion that sets us apart from everyone else. Writing powerfully and without sentiment, Hanne Ørstavik shows that she is well acquainted with the lonely passion of the human heart. show less

Beautifully written. I loved how the narrative jumped between the characters in such a way that sometimes I was a few words in to a paragraph before I realized it had switched. Ørstavik really evoked the eerie loneliness of the far North where she is from and never dropped the thread of suspense. I give the Mom an "epic fail" in the parenting department.

‘’A path into the forest, from a long-forgotten place.
Find the path and follow, its ribbon yours to trace.
Past trees and hillocks wander, to a splendid castle old,
In whose halls three ladies fine you shall at last behold.
The prince they there await, if ever he should come.
A song they sing to pass the time, a lonely, plaintive hum.’’

Once in a while, there comes a book that takes you by surprise. An unassuming, low-key, seemingly ordinary novel which turns into an experience that makes you fully understand why you love reading so much. That gives a whole new meaning to Literary Fiction. That has you thinking for days after the last page is turnt. The feelings that ‘’Love’’ caused in me surprised me. What didn’t surprise show more me was the fact that this novel comes from one of the most haunting places God has created. Norway, the land of the Midnight Sun. But in our story, the sun is nowhere to be found…

Vibeke and Jon have recently moved to a new town, in Norway. The story unfolds over a single wintry night when Vibeke and Jon follow their own separate ways, each for their own reasons. Through this peculiar evening, Vibeke will have to face the results of her questionable behaviour and Jon will come across his own fears and isolation.

The two characters consist the driving force of the story. Vibeke is a bookworm, a woman who wants to succeed in her career, to look beautiful, to fall in love and have some time to herself. She is a modern mother, but more often than not, she comes across as vain, almost narcissistic, cold and clueless and not quite the kind of mother that a nine year old child needs. Jon is a boy with a tender heart and an almost terrifying imagination, not unlike his mother. The two share the most unbreakable bond God has created, the one between a mother and her child. However, the relationship depicted in this novel is troubled and troubling. Vibeke and Jon trust strangers too easily and their minds create images, expectations and assumptions that have little or no connection to reality. The two other characters are Tom, a young man working in a funfair, and an unnamed driver whom Jon meets on his way home.

Ørstavik’s writing is impeccable, perfect, as haunting as the beauty of her homeland. There are beautiful scenes from the daily life of the two characters. You can feel the warmth of their home, smell the cooked food, see the cozy corners. You can see the dimly lit streets of the neighbourhood, hear the crunching snow, smell the freezing wind and wander in the centre of the town, visit the library and the funfair. The writer’s ability to paint pictures with words and communicate so many themes through minimal dialogue is outstanding. The eerie feeling, the sense of impending doom that permeates the novel doesn’t allow you to look away and I am happy to see that the translator did a marvelous job in transfering images and feelings to perfection.The end is striking. As I’m writing, I try to process it and I can’t. It will leave you speechless, the way a well-written novella has to do.

This is an appropriate read for a cold winter’s night, ideally in Norway. Or Denmark, or Sweden and Finland. But if this isn’t possible, any place becomes ideal when there is a beautiful book to keep us company. And this is one of the most beautiful books I’ve read this year. Yes, it is dark, sad, it cuts like a knife and freezes the blood, and yet, in all this darkness, there is a kind of pure beauty. I’m not a mother, but I work with children and books like this one makes you want to hold them close and shut out the darkness of the world.

Many thanks to Archipelago Books and Edelweiss for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com show less

A skandináv minimalizmus olyan, mint a bundáskenyér: egyszerűen jó. Bár - és itt rugalmasan elszakadnék a bundáskenyér-analógiától - a skandináv minimalizmus egyszerűsége igazából látszólagos, a szerkezet és a történetmesélés lecsiszoltsága csak kiemeli azt, ami igazán bonyolult: az emberi kapcsolatok megfejthetetlenségét.

Vibeka és fia, a kis Jon most költöztek egy norvég kisvárosba. Szokványos estének néznek elébe: Vibeka könyvtárba indul, Jon pedig megismerkedik valakivel. Aztán semmi sem úgy alakul, ahogy tervezve lett. Finomra hangszerelt, csendesen feszültségteljes regény két emberről, akik egymásra vannak utalva, de életük mégis mintha párhuzamosan suhanna el egymás mellett, show more akár két idegené. (Amit csak kiemel, hogy Vibeka és Jon történetszálát úgy montírozza egymásra a szerző, hogy néha meg kell állnunk egy pillanatra, most épp kiét is olvassuk.) És az egész felett ott lebeg csaliként a cím: Vágy. Az olvasó pedig értelmezni próbál, ki is az, aki vágyakozik és mire. Miből áll ez a vágy és egyirányú-e. A szöveg persze síkos angolna, kicsúszik az értelmező kezei közül. Hipotéziseink vannak, nem biztos ítéleteink.

A tragédiák pedig mindig értelmetlenek. show less

3.5

This novella is written in a spare language, rendered beautifully in English. The story takes place on a single day, but is indicative of any day in their lives. The lives of mother and son are clearly sad (or seem so to me). I don't think the author intended this to be the case, but nonetheless, sad.

Initially, I thought the mother outrageously selfish, but I think I missed the more subtle point that she also has a right to her happiness and just because she has a child, there is not the need to forfeit the right to search for joy.

Both, coexist in the same world but apart from each other. They have to invent the happiness they desire. They both have needs they don't know how to fulfil.

The book doesn't judge them.
The reader ends up show more doing so...in one way or another. show less

I love the books published by Archipelago Books. I like the small square size, the textured paper covers, the French flaps, and the interesting cover art (this book features a work by Edvard Munch). And I usually like the works they choose to translate. This novel by Norwegian author Hanne Ørstavik is no exception.

Vibeke and her son, Jon, have just moved to a small town in northern Norway. Vibeke has a new job and is excited about the success of the presentation she did that day. Jon is an imaginative boy excited about turning nine the following day. The book is the story of that one evening, the eve of Jon's birthday.

The narrative flows seamlessly between mother and son without breaks, but without confusion either. I had no trouble show more following who was speaking. The thoughts of each often mirrors the other despite their being apart, each doing their own thing. The tone is intimate and the intertwining of their thoughts seems to indicate a close and loving relationship, yet their actions that evening reflect a genuine disconnect. As the evening progresses, the pace of the narrative increases and the mood darkens. The reader knows something is coming, but is unsure what.

An enjoyable and quick read. Recommended show less