Tag: Copenhagen

Review 2586: The White Bear

~ whatmeread ~ 6 Comments

The newly released (today, I think) reprint of The White Bear by NYRB is actually two novellas, The White Bear and The Rearguard. I wasn’t familiar with Pontoppidan but find he was an early 20th century Danish Nobel laureate. Both of these novellas were published in the late 19th century.

In The White Bear, we meet Thorkild Müller, who as a young misfit was directed into the ministry because of a grant that offered a generous university stipend for a theological degree if the recipient was willing to minister in the frozen north for an unspecified period. Thorkild takes the stipend but fritters away his time at university, barely setting foot in the classroom.

But then because of the deaths of two ministers, he receives his summons, which he tries to avoid by flunking his exams. That doesn’t work, and he ends up in Greenland ministering to the Inuit.

There he is miserable until one summer when, instead of returning to a trading post as expected while the Inuit were leading their nomadic summer lives, he goes with them.

Much of the story is about what happens when, as an old man, he decides to return to Denmark.

I really loved this story. I have a fascination for books about cold and desolate climates, but what’s more important is that Thorkild is an unforgettable character—huge and covered with an unkempt white beard, boisterous, simple, yet not as simple as he seems.

The Rearguard is about Jørgen Hallager, in some ways a bit like Thorkild but in others, not. He is also a big boisterous man, a social realist painter who considers that artists who turn away from realism are traitors, who is loud in his condemnation of almost everyone that doesn’t believe what he does.

He has recently become engaged to Ursula Branth, the frail, gently reared daughter of a state counselor. He has become engaged to her in Rome, where they make a lengthy stay and eventually marry. Her father and Hallager dislike each other. He is trying to separate her from her friends and family because of his socialist principles, and her father is worried about her.

I found Hallager to be insufferable—so full of himself and sure of his ideas, belligerent with anyone who disagrees, and verbally abusive to his wife, trying to bring her to a mental place where he wants her. I didn’t understand some of the basis for his rants (not being up on 19th century Danish politics and art).

I liked Thorkild a lot better. Both of the novellas are wonderful character sketches, though.

I received this book from the publishers in exchange for a free and fair review.

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Review 2257: The Tenant

~ whatmeread ~ 1 Comment

I’ve given up or finished a few mystery series lately, so I thought I’d try the first Kørner and Werner series by Danish author Katrine Engberg.

An older man who lives in an apartment building in downtown Copenhagen is surprised to find the door open in his downstairs neighbors’ apartment, occupied by two young girls. When he tries to investigate, he falls over the body of one of the girls, Julie Stender, who has been gruesomely murdered.

For Detective Jeppe Kørner, this is his first important case since his breakdown after his divorce. To identify the victim, he and Anette Werner turn to Esther di Laurenti, the owner of the building who also resides there. She knows both the girls, but Julie was kind of a pet of hers. Esther has another young friend, Kristoff, her music teacher.

The police discover that Esther has been writing a murder mystery and she has used Julie as a model for the victim. Further, the murder is very much as described in the book. Only Esther and her writing group are supposed to have access to her draft.

I finished the book because I wanted to see how it came out, but what stood out almost immediately was the mediocre writing. When Engberg introduces each character, she tells a bunch of things about them, kind of a clumsy approach. Then there are lots of clichés, odd word choices, and inept metaphors. Part of this could be the translation, of course. One passage that I marked, a saying that Jeppa’s mother used, was “When you love someone, the callousness moves from your heart to the palms of your hands.” What does that even mean? Is callousness even the intended word?

As far as characterization goes, we learn a lot about Jeppa, but not so much about anyone else. In fact, I was taken aback by how over-the-top everyone was acting, with the police team snapping at each other all the time. It reminded me of the French mystery series Murder In that my husband and I have been watching, where I couldn’t decide whether everyone was overacting or they were just being French. (Just kidding. I have lots of French friends.)

Finally, the payoff was supposed to be weird, but it also seemed completely unlikely. I don’t think I’ll continue this series.

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Day 967: The Danish Girl

~ whatmeread ~ 3 Comments

Cover for The Danish GirlThe Danish Girl is another example of how untrustworthy book blurbs are for conveying the sense and feel of a novel. The blurb talks about “the glitz and glamour of 1920’s Copenhagen, Paris, and Dresden.” Yes, there is a bit of going about to bistros in Paris, but this novel is not about glitz and glamour. It is mostly about the tender relationship between two people, Greta and her husband Einar, who becomes the first man to undergo a sex change operation. Ebershoff lightly based this fictional book on the lives of Lili Elbe and Gerda Wegener, both artists, but he says the details of their lives are wholly invented.

It is Greta who realizes something first. She is a portrait painter with a deadline. When an opera singer can’t make her sitting, Greta asks Einar to put on a stocking so she can use his leg as a model. Later, she has him put on a dress. Einar is a delicate man who is not self-aware. From the time he begins dressing up as Lily, he becomes more and more abstracted from his painting and his former life. Greta sees him drifting vaguely away from Einar, becoming Lily.

I wondered if Ebershoff’s description of Lily’s state of mind really reflected how a transexual person would feel, as Lily seems barely able to remember anything about Einar and vice versa. It almost seemed more like a description of a person with multiple personalities. But I don’t know much about this subject.

This is not a novel of action or plot. It is more about the states of mind of the people involved. It is sympathetic and touching. I didn’t think it would be my subject matter, but I found it affecting.

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