How many novels written in Danish have you read? How many novels by Danish women have you read? And how many have you read that have been shortlisted for the Man Booker International Prize in 2017? I have just read Mirror, Shoulder, Signal and so I can now answer ‘one’ to all three questions.
This quirky novel by Dorthe Nors, translated from the Danish by Misha Hoekstra is the next in my Women in Translation project. It was selected because it had good reviews and because of the shortlisting.
Sonja is in her 40s and living alone in Copenhagen. She is not settled in her life, and feels that she is not doing very well for herself. Sonja translates crime fiction from Swedish into Danish, but is beginning to find that the work cuts her off from other people. Indeed she feels cut off from everyone: her family in the flat and empty landscape of her childhood in Jutland; other people living in Copenhagen; people she meets. She has decided to learn to drive and to reconnect with her sister, Kate, who still lives in Jutland with their parents.
Learning to drive is the metaphor for getting her life more under her control. There are two obstacles: changing gears and her teacher Jytte, who insists on changing gear for her. Sonja also visits a masseuse, Ellen, who interprets Sonja’s body as expressing psychic difficulties with her life. In addition she also suffers from a form of vertigo.
Sonja does not initially confront the energetic and difficult driving instructor, nor her masseuse, nor her school friend Molly who lives a comfortable and duplicitous life, married to a lawyer but restlessly engaged in affairs with other men and remodelling their house.
Sonja appears to be a bit of rabbit, hiding from contact with anything scary, careful to avoid positions that induce vertigo, from engaging with her challenges. But gradually she insists on her own needs: she escapes Ellen’s meditation group, demands a replacement for Jytte, practises writing to her sister before eventually ringing her up. And in the final scene she leaves Molly on the underground and helps an older Jutland woman to find her way. She has begun to reconnect to her past in the alien world of Copenhagen, she has begun to master driving and she will find her way home.
The pleasures of this novel
At first I found it a little tedious to be stuck with this apparently hapless individual, who got into scrapes and seemed unable to act like an adult. But as the novel progressed it was apparent that Sonja’s life was like everyone’s life, and we all fail to assert ourselves at times.
I loved the visual evocation of the driving lessons:
It’s difficult to maintain boundaries in an automobile. When you’re a driving student, you have to relinquish free will, and once Jytte forced her to overtake a hot dog cart. They’d been driving around calmly enough, but then they’d come to a place where there was a traffic island on the street. A traffic island and a hot dog cart that was creeping forward. Sonja wasn’t supposed to pass, but people in back became impatient and started honking. “Pass, God damn you, pass!” yelled Jytte, whereupon Sonja crossed over into the lane of oncoming traffic, passed and then turned back into her own lane so quickly that she nearly clipped the hot dog man. He was walking along in front, of course, hauling the cart, “You almost had blood on your hands there,” Jytte said. (13)
And her other encounters are similarly vivid:
“Your buttocks are hard,” Ellen says. “That’s because, if you’ll pardon a vulgar phrase, you’re a tight-ass with your feelings. An emotional tight-ass, a tight-fisted tightwad. Can’t you hear how everything’s right there in the words?” (18)
About the fashionable Scandi-noir novels she translates for a living they are all about ‘mutilated women and children…rotting everywhere on Scandinavian public land’.
This is anti-Hygge. Sardonic, amusing and without whimsy. And with such accurate observations of life as lived that I often caught myself thinking, ‘yes that’s exactly how I would like to describe that.’ I have hardly captured the pleasures of this novel. For more about this novel and from the author listen to the podcast from March in the Guardian.
Translated from the Danish by Misha Hoekstra. Shortlisted for the Man Booker International Prize 2017
Women in Translation
This is the second book in my year of Women in Fiction in Translation.
Fiction in English does not hold the monopoly on quality. A great deal of excellent fiction is written in other languages. If the job of fiction is to take you to new worlds I want to explore those other worlds written in another language as well as those in English. Only 4% of fiction published in the UK is in translation. Promoting fiction in translation is part of my intention for this blog.
Fiction by men does not hold the monopoly on quality either. Promoting fiction by women is another purpose of my blog. Women’s fiction gets less space in the printed media than men’s. See VIDA statistics for how much less.
As books by women in translation form a disproportionately small proportion (about one quarter) of that 4% I have put these statistics together and will promote women in translation over the next year or so.
I am doing this at a time when popular culture favours raising barriers not making connections, across language and gender. I hope you will be inspired by some of my choices.
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