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Revision as of 09:59, 4 February 2017
, 09:59, 4 February 2017Created page with "{{infobox |title=Mirror, Shoulder, Signal |author=Dorthe Nors |reviewer=Rebecca Foster |genre=Literary Fiction |summary=From the celebrated Danish writer, a novel about a woma..."
{{infobox
|title=Mirror, Shoulder, Signal
|author=Dorthe Nors
|reviewer=Rebecca Foster
|genre=Literary Fiction
|summary=From the celebrated Danish writer, a novel about a woman in her forties who translates gory Swedish crime novels for a living but needs to sort out the rest of her life by learning to drive and reconnecting with her family.
|rating=3.5
|buy=Maybe
|borrow=Yes
|pages=192
|publisher=Pushkin Press
|date=February 2017
|isbn=9781782273127
|website=http://www.dorthenors.dk/
|video=fY1JW2ned60
|amazonuk=<amazonuk>1782273123</amazonuk>
}}
Danish author Dorthe Nors has published four novels, a novella and a story collection. The protagonist of her latest novel, forty-something Sonja, has a problem with balance – literally. Due to an inner ear condition, if she bends over she's crippled by dizziness. It's inconvenient given that Sonja is currently taking lessons at Folke Driving School. She's already doing poorly – her angry, sweary instructor Jytte doesn't trust her enough to change gears so does it all for her – and so can't have them finding out that she gets dizzy. Eventually Sonja switches so Folke himself is her instructor, but he's an odious lecher. She really can't win.
It's intriguing to watch this character get trapped in situations that she feels like she can't control. She doesn't like the gory Swedish crime novels she translates, and she's getting RSI from all the typing, but this is how she makes a living. It's so difficult to get hold of her older sister Kate, married with two kids, that she eventually resorts to writing her a letter – but can't bring herself to send it. Even a meditative nature walk in a deer park goes wrong when Sonja needs a toilet so has to dash back to take shelter in a bakery during a thunderstorm.
The novel continually contrasts the simplicity of childhood with the complexity of adulthood. Sonja's greatest joy comes from looking back on her childhood growing up on a farm. Again and again she remembers the landscape of home: the feeling of walking through the fields and the safety of her mother's arms. Can she give up the chaos of Copenhagen and find her way home again?
Some of my favourite passages reflect on Sonja's psyche, particularly her tendency to live in her head and her wish to see some kind of overarching narrative to her life:
''What I need is action,'' Sonja thinks. ''I need something that pokes up from the horizontal. Some buoyancy, some catastrophe.''
''I'm like my mom. We've got these rich, expansive inner worlds. We're quite intelligent. But as women, we're not completely fine-tuned.''
''Somewhere in Copenhagen the helicopters have risen with a purpose, and Sonja wishes she were hovering up there with them. Not so much in the middle of her life as with a view of it.''
However, as has sometimes been my experience with Scandinavian fiction (thinking especially of [[This Should be Written in the Present Tense by Helle Helle and Martin Aitken (translator)]]), there isn't all that much of a plot here. There are some funny scenes, like the nature walk, and Nors also has a humorous way of describing everyday things, like an encounter with a messy child at a shopping centre: ''The kid's been commixing crumbs and raisin gook with oronasal secretions.''
Though it's a bit unsatisfying as a story, ultimately I thought of this as an allegorical or cautionary tale about getting stuck. In that case, the novel's title might serve as a clue to how to get out again: 'mirror' – take a good look at yourself; 'shoulder' – remember where you came from; and then 'signal' – figure out small actions that indicate your willingness to change. For Sonja that's the driving lessons, which symbolise true autonomy: once she gets her licence she'll be able to go wherever she wants.
This novel probably won't be for everyone, but it's a quick and offbeat read. It might just remind you of situations you've allowed to control you, and inspire you to find a way out.
Further reading suggestion: [[This Should be Written in the Present Tense by Helle Helle and Martin Aitken (translator)]] is a fairly similar Danish read, and [[Butterflies in November by Audur Ava Olafsdottir]] is comparable in its quirky, somewhat unplotted nature.
{{amazontext|amazon=1782273123}}
{{amazonUStext|amazon=1782273123}}
{{commenthead}}
|title=Mirror, Shoulder, Signal
|author=Dorthe Nors
|reviewer=Rebecca Foster
|genre=Literary Fiction
|summary=From the celebrated Danish writer, a novel about a woman in her forties who translates gory Swedish crime novels for a living but needs to sort out the rest of her life by learning to drive and reconnecting with her family.
|rating=3.5
|buy=Maybe
|borrow=Yes
|pages=192
|publisher=Pushkin Press
|date=February 2017
|isbn=9781782273127
|website=http://www.dorthenors.dk/
|video=fY1JW2ned60
|amazonuk=<amazonuk>1782273123</amazonuk>
}}
Danish author Dorthe Nors has published four novels, a novella and a story collection. The protagonist of her latest novel, forty-something Sonja, has a problem with balance – literally. Due to an inner ear condition, if she bends over she's crippled by dizziness. It's inconvenient given that Sonja is currently taking lessons at Folke Driving School. She's already doing poorly – her angry, sweary instructor Jytte doesn't trust her enough to change gears so does it all for her – and so can't have them finding out that she gets dizzy. Eventually Sonja switches so Folke himself is her instructor, but he's an odious lecher. She really can't win.
It's intriguing to watch this character get trapped in situations that she feels like she can't control. She doesn't like the gory Swedish crime novels she translates, and she's getting RSI from all the typing, but this is how she makes a living. It's so difficult to get hold of her older sister Kate, married with two kids, that she eventually resorts to writing her a letter – but can't bring herself to send it. Even a meditative nature walk in a deer park goes wrong when Sonja needs a toilet so has to dash back to take shelter in a bakery during a thunderstorm.
The novel continually contrasts the simplicity of childhood with the complexity of adulthood. Sonja's greatest joy comes from looking back on her childhood growing up on a farm. Again and again she remembers the landscape of home: the feeling of walking through the fields and the safety of her mother's arms. Can she give up the chaos of Copenhagen and find her way home again?
Some of my favourite passages reflect on Sonja's psyche, particularly her tendency to live in her head and her wish to see some kind of overarching narrative to her life:
''What I need is action,'' Sonja thinks. ''I need something that pokes up from the horizontal. Some buoyancy, some catastrophe.''
''I'm like my mom. We've got these rich, expansive inner worlds. We're quite intelligent. But as women, we're not completely fine-tuned.''
''Somewhere in Copenhagen the helicopters have risen with a purpose, and Sonja wishes she were hovering up there with them. Not so much in the middle of her life as with a view of it.''
However, as has sometimes been my experience with Scandinavian fiction (thinking especially of [[This Should be Written in the Present Tense by Helle Helle and Martin Aitken (translator)]]), there isn't all that much of a plot here. There are some funny scenes, like the nature walk, and Nors also has a humorous way of describing everyday things, like an encounter with a messy child at a shopping centre: ''The kid's been commixing crumbs and raisin gook with oronasal secretions.''
Though it's a bit unsatisfying as a story, ultimately I thought of this as an allegorical or cautionary tale about getting stuck. In that case, the novel's title might serve as a clue to how to get out again: 'mirror' – take a good look at yourself; 'shoulder' – remember where you came from; and then 'signal' – figure out small actions that indicate your willingness to change. For Sonja that's the driving lessons, which symbolise true autonomy: once she gets her licence she'll be able to go wherever she wants.
This novel probably won't be for everyone, but it's a quick and offbeat read. It might just remind you of situations you've allowed to control you, and inspire you to find a way out.
Further reading suggestion: [[This Should be Written in the Present Tense by Helle Helle and Martin Aitken (translator)]] is a fairly similar Danish read, and [[Butterflies in November by Audur Ava Olafsdottir]] is comparable in its quirky, somewhat unplotted nature.
{{amazontext|amazon=1782273123}}
{{amazonUStext|amazon=1782273123}}
{{commenthead}}
