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Baboon
Beginning in the middle of crisis, then accelerating through plots that grow stranger by the page, Naja Marie Aidt’s stories have a feel all their own. Though they are built around the common themes of sex, love, desire, and gender, Aidt pushes them into her own desperate, frantic realm. In one, a whore shows up unannounced at a man’s apartment, roosts in his living room, and then violently threatens him when he tries to make her leave. In another, a wife takes her husband to a city where it is women, not men, who are the dominant sex—but was it all a hallucination when she finds herself tied to a board and dragged back to his car? And in the unforgettable “Blackcurrant,” two young women who have turned away from men and toward lesbianism abscond to a farm, where they discover that their neighbor’s son is experimenting with his own kind of sexuality. The first book from the widely lauded Aidt to reach the English language, Baboon delivers audacious writing that careens toward bizarre, yet utterly truthful, realizations.
208 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2006
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1193 people want to read
About the author
Naja Marie Aidt
64 books223 followersNaja Marie Aidt is a Danish poet and writer. She was born in Greenland, and spent some of her childhood there. She published her first book of poetry in 1991, and in 2008 she was awarded the Nordic Council's Literature Prize.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 129 reviews
September 2, 2023
None of these stories are titled “Baboon,” and it’s not until the final story, “Mosquito Bite,” that the word even appears—a sister telling her brother he looks like one after boils have arisen on his skin. The siblings are close; they seem “normal,” but certain aspects of their personalities, especially of the brother, the focus of the story, are not flattering. This is the territory Aidt delves into with most of her stories: people who seem to have a happy life with others, but something under the surface, or some crisis arriving, explodes all of it.
With an exception or two, and though I never wanted to stop reading, these aren’t easy stories to read due to the subject matter. I particularly felt that way during “Torben and Maria,” a story of child abuse. It’s unlike the others in that most of the stories are centered on adults and any abuse (usually not physical) is directed toward other adults, or it’s self-inflicted. Several stories have parents grappling with family dynamics that include the children of their partners.
The beauty of the cover belies the plots, but the translation from the Danish by Denise Newman is beautiful. And the prose is compelling. I bought this from Two Lines Press during a sale for Women-In-Translation month (August) in a bundle that included two more short-story collections by two other writers. I'm looking forward to those.
With an exception or two, and though I never wanted to stop reading, these aren’t easy stories to read due to the subject matter. I particularly felt that way during “Torben and Maria,” a story of child abuse. It’s unlike the others in that most of the stories are centered on adults and any abuse (usually not physical) is directed toward other adults, or it’s self-inflicted. Several stories have parents grappling with family dynamics that include the children of their partners.
The beauty of the cover belies the plots, but the translation from the Danish by Denise Newman is beautiful. And the prose is compelling. I bought this from Two Lines Press during a sale for Women-In-Translation month (August) in a bundle that included two more short-story collections by two other writers. I'm looking forward to those.
February 11, 2016
A GR friend persuaded me that this collection - which had been on my radar for some time - was still worthwhile after I was bored by at least 80% of Aidt's Rock, Paper, Scissors. And worthwhile it was. I was glad too, that it turned out not to be a book of radical-feminist stories as the blurb gave the impression it might be. Rather it's (IMO) distinctly queer.
One story whose blurb strongly gave that impression was 'The Honeymoon'; it was missing from the Scribd edition of Baboon, but I later found it in this three-story sample on a lit festival website. That's the one described as as a wife takes her husband to a city where it is women, not men, who are the dominant sex—but was it all a hallucination when she finds herself tied to a board and dragged back to his car? Which is somewhat misleading - like most things in this book, the scenario is more complex: the husband initiates the trip, and the board is only equipment in a mountain-rescue scene. Stuff that happens to the wife outside the town, and her reactions to it, seems to be set up as a contrast to the town. Which is in Greece, perhaps inspired by Mount Athos. The descriptions of the townswomen don't sound so very remarkable as the narrative implies; they are the boss like the Last of the Summer Wine matriarchs, and unapologetically confident in a way that sounds like some older academic and professional women. But what is unusual is the numbers and proportion: they're all that way. I recalled the non-title stories in The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner, whose setting is similar to Last..., but grittier: the stories of relationship and family are pretty much evenly divided between those where the man, and where the woman is domineering.
Another inaccurate blurb: in the unforgettable “Blackcurrant,” two young women who have turned away from men and toward lesbianism abscond to a farm: there's actually nothing explicitly stating the women are in a relationship (they sleep in separate rooms and there's no sex or kissing mentioned) or that they've decided to give up men, or that they ran away to the farm - they're just there - although the impression is that one is mostly lesbian and the other has been involved with quite a few men.
Rock, Paper, Scissors showed that Aidt can write a wholly convincing male narrator - she does this in Baboon too, several times, giving these guys a variety of personalities, not just the overconfident sleazebag type whom others including Nicola Barker in Clear, and Iris Murdoch in The Sea, The Sea, have written brilliantly. That, plus some of the character relationships, and the way it soon became routine to suspend judgement as to whether a narrator would turn out to be male or female, made for a delightful sense of fluidity and ambiguity. I often came back to reflecting on "what gender is the person who wrote this book?" and my instinctive answer was always "both." That makes me keen to read more by Aidt, except there are only these two books in English. (This interview gives the impression that, whilst she doesn't use any new-ish gender identification labels, she has been conscious of feeling like, and understanding, both male and female.)
Near the end of Rock, Paper, Scissors was a moment of truly leftfield weirdness, a departure from any conformity or reaction to commonly seen contemporary ideas, that held great promise for this collection. The first story, 'Bulbjerg', did not disappoint. Into a fairly routine litfic short story, albeit one sculpted meticulously from ice - a story of a family outing - intruded a moment like something from the work of Chris Morris: nothing physically impossible, just the most ridiculous, sick timing, and very funny for it. I looked forward to more of the same, but it was not quite forthcoming. Some of the stories contained twists of a nature that only made me disappointed that to many people these *are* twists: those about characters' gender, and especially those about relationship structures, in 'Sunday' and in 'Starry Sky', nevertheless one of my favourites here: for its blissful sensuality and understanding of the way love and consumerism can entwine, how imagery of 'living the dream' is also imagery of products, and how for some this can make falling in love, and then trying to complete the dream, expensive.
I am haunted, too, by 'The Green Darkness of the Big Trees': the narrator who reminded me of a number of people real and fictional, and its descriptions of solace in nature. I was so sad for him being repeatedly drawn to a girl who, I would say, just doesn't get it / isn't very good at empathy or knowing the decent thing to say; better not to bother being close to someone like that during difficult times. Whilst others might call what she says microaggressions and see them as a matter of politics more than individual behaviour. Either way, poor thing too depressed to see he's being put down or how that may domino into the future.
'Torben & Maria' made me think about what contributes to perception of class in stories: Maria's admiring a view made her seem as middle class as the rest of the characters here. Perhaps perception wavered slightly for a page or two, but it was when her brother talked about selling back-of-the-lorry phones that it landed firmly in a different bracket, and her treatment of her child started to seem reminiscent of news reports on social services failures. Nice to see the inclusion of the sort of cultural detail rarely clear from fiction, often only picked up from people living in the country in question: it's mentioned that Torben is a name rarely given to small children now.
In another interview the author mentions that Baboon was written while the economic boom was at its peak in Denmark, and that exaggerated everything... You could feel the change in the streets... And also a new focus on the body. It was now possible to spend a lot of money to gain the perfect body. This was evident in 'Starry Sky', in 'Wounds'' insulated tourists in a Near-Eastern country, and especially in 'Mosquito Bite', a story dealing not only with consumerist lifestyle perfection, but with other topics that more modern fiction should.
Baboon - the word itself mentioned in one story, and in its context perhaps symbolic of the hollow bloatedness of mid-00s consumerism - is a lot of dark weirdness in a contemporary-litfic world. It also sometimes works as a satire on present-day literary fiction, showing a very dark side of an every day situation where many other authors would have gone for the purely mundane or the comic. But whilst I loved what these stories do with gender, in particular this female author who writes male characters so well, and women who have masculine sides - I wished it had ramped up the weirdness more, especially stuck more of it in the middle of stories rather than as punchlines at the end.
In the last few months I've said several times "I don't like short stories, but..." This is another collection to add to that list. Perhaps the short stories I used to read just weren't strange enough, and these almost are.
One story whose blurb strongly gave that impression was 'The Honeymoon'; it was missing from the Scribd edition of Baboon, but I later found it in this three-story sample on a lit festival website. That's the one described as as a wife takes her husband to a city where it is women, not men, who are the dominant sex—but was it all a hallucination when she finds herself tied to a board and dragged back to his car? Which is somewhat misleading - like most things in this book, the scenario is more complex: the husband initiates the trip, and the board is only equipment in a mountain-rescue scene. Stuff that happens to the wife outside the town, and her reactions to it, seems to be set up as a contrast to the town. Which is in Greece, perhaps inspired by Mount Athos. The descriptions of the townswomen don't sound so very remarkable as the narrative implies; they are the boss like the Last of the Summer Wine matriarchs, and unapologetically confident in a way that sounds like some older academic and professional women. But what is unusual is the numbers and proportion: they're all that way. I recalled the non-title stories in The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner, whose setting is similar to Last..., but grittier: the stories of relationship and family are pretty much evenly divided between those where the man, and where the woman is domineering.
Another inaccurate blurb: in the unforgettable “Blackcurrant,” two young women who have turned away from men and toward lesbianism abscond to a farm: there's actually nothing explicitly stating the women are in a relationship (they sleep in separate rooms and there's no sex or kissing mentioned) or that they've decided to give up men, or that they ran away to the farm - they're just there - although the impression is that one is mostly lesbian and the other has been involved with quite a few men.
Rock, Paper, Scissors showed that Aidt can write a wholly convincing male narrator - she does this in Baboon too, several times, giving these guys a variety of personalities, not just the overconfident sleazebag type whom others including Nicola Barker in Clear, and Iris Murdoch in The Sea, The Sea, have written brilliantly. That, plus some of the character relationships, and the way it soon became routine to suspend judgement as to whether a narrator would turn out to be male or female, made for a delightful sense of fluidity and ambiguity. I often came back to reflecting on "what gender is the person who wrote this book?" and my instinctive answer was always "both." That makes me keen to read more by Aidt, except there are only these two books in English. (This interview gives the impression that, whilst she doesn't use any new-ish gender identification labels, she has been conscious of feeling like, and understanding, both male and female.)
Near the end of Rock, Paper, Scissors was a moment of truly leftfield weirdness, a departure from any conformity or reaction to commonly seen contemporary ideas, that held great promise for this collection. The first story, 'Bulbjerg', did not disappoint. Into a fairly routine litfic short story, albeit one sculpted meticulously from ice - a story of a family outing - intruded a moment like something from the work of Chris Morris: nothing physically impossible, just the most ridiculous, sick timing, and very funny for it. I looked forward to more of the same, but it was not quite forthcoming. Some of the stories contained twists of a nature that only made me disappointed that to many people these *are* twists: those about characters' gender, and especially those about relationship structures, in 'Sunday' and in 'Starry Sky', nevertheless one of my favourites here: for its blissful sensuality and understanding of the way love and consumerism can entwine, how imagery of 'living the dream' is also imagery of products, and how for some this can make falling in love, and then trying to complete the dream, expensive.
I am haunted, too, by 'The Green Darkness of the Big Trees': the narrator who reminded me of a number of people real and fictional, and its descriptions of solace in nature. I was so sad for him being repeatedly drawn to a girl who, I would say, just doesn't get it / isn't very good at empathy or knowing the decent thing to say; better not to bother being close to someone like that during difficult times. Whilst others might call what she says microaggressions and see them as a matter of politics more than individual behaviour. Either way, poor thing too depressed to see he's being put down or how that may domino into the future.
'Torben & Maria' made me think about what contributes to perception of class in stories: Maria's admiring a view made her seem as middle class as the rest of the characters here. Perhaps perception wavered slightly for a page or two, but it was when her brother talked about selling back-of-the-lorry phones that it landed firmly in a different bracket, and her treatment of her child started to seem reminiscent of news reports on social services failures. Nice to see the inclusion of the sort of cultural detail rarely clear from fiction, often only picked up from people living in the country in question: it's mentioned that Torben is a name rarely given to small children now.
In another interview the author mentions that Baboon was written while the economic boom was at its peak in Denmark, and that exaggerated everything... You could feel the change in the streets... And also a new focus on the body. It was now possible to spend a lot of money to gain the perfect body. This was evident in 'Starry Sky', in 'Wounds'' insulated tourists in a Near-Eastern country, and especially in 'Mosquito Bite', a story dealing not only with consumerist lifestyle perfection, but with other topics that more modern fiction should.
Baboon - the word itself mentioned in one story, and in its context perhaps symbolic of the hollow bloatedness of mid-00s consumerism - is a lot of dark weirdness in a contemporary-litfic world. It also sometimes works as a satire on present-day literary fiction, showing a very dark side of an every day situation where many other authors would have gone for the purely mundane or the comic. But whilst I loved what these stories do with gender, in particular this female author who writes male characters so well, and women who have masculine sides - I wished it had ramped up the weirdness more, especially stuck more of it in the middle of stories rather than as punchlines at the end.
In the last few months I've said several times "I don't like short stories, but..." This is another collection to add to that list. Perhaps the short stories I used to read just weren't strange enough, and these almost are.
Read
April 27, 2015In Baboon, Naja Marie Aidt’s stories are built around the familiar themes of sex, love and desire, yet there is nothing “familiar” about them. The reader is dropped in the middle of each story (the first story of the collection starts with “Suddenly”) without much information about the characters. The pacing is breathless: short sentence follows short sentence at a frantic speed. Written in a minimalist, concise style—brought to us in English through Denise Newman’s beautiful translation--the prose is striking through its clarity, word choice and rhythm. Aidt pushes her characters into a realm half-way between hyper-realism and her own version of surrealism.
The unorthodox sexuality of some of the characters is part of the economy and the strangeness of the overall narratives. In one story, a man who is very much in love with his wife meets another man, and then “something happened.” The pace of the story changes, the reader is sure that the couple will split, but at the end, this expectation is thwarted. In another story, a couple goes to a city where women are in control, but everything seems to be happening in a dream. Other stories, like Candy, in which a couple goes shopping, hide something uncanny under a mundane appearance. This uncanny character, the ambiguity of the settings and the author’s voice give Baboon its originality.
The unorthodox sexuality of some of the characters is part of the economy and the strangeness of the overall narratives. In one story, a man who is very much in love with his wife meets another man, and then “something happened.” The pace of the story changes, the reader is sure that the couple will split, but at the end, this expectation is thwarted. In another story, a couple goes to a city where women are in control, but everything seems to be happening in a dream. Other stories, like Candy, in which a couple goes shopping, hide something uncanny under a mundane appearance. This uncanny character, the ambiguity of the settings and the author’s voice give Baboon its originality.
April 12, 2015
the first work from danish poet and author naja marie aidt to appear in english translation, baboon (bavian) collects fifteen dark, yet memorable short stories. aidt's brief tales are terse yet fleshed out with characters enduring situations both strange and imaginative. offering a nod to the absurd and unbelievable, baboon hums with revelation and foreboding.
**open letter will publish aidt's first novel, rock, paper, scissors, in late summer of this year
the only thing i'm not able to say about you is what you're thinking when you sit on the couch at night.*translated from the danish by fellow poet denise newman (inger christensen)
maybe you don't even know yourself.
**open letter will publish aidt's first novel, rock, paper, scissors, in late summer of this year
May 15, 2015
After reading reviews of this in the New York Times and the Los Angeles Review of Books, I didn't think I would enjoy it very much. From the descriptions of the plots of various stories—a woman who abuses her todder; a man who picks a perilous hike when his son's just been injured to tell his wife that he's fucking her sister—it sounded too unredemptively brutal for my taste. Plus, at least one review noted how little information it gave about the characters, and I didn't think I liked minimalism. I had to read Raymond Carver stories in one of my college classes and I didn't really get what the big deal was. My problem with a lot of contemporary/postmodern stuff, I guess. I'm a philistine.
And although I maybe wouldn't go so far as to say I "get" these stories, I can confidently say that this woman is a genius. I feel so, so lucky that this collection came out in such a beautiful English translation, and that I got my hands on an ARC. I was utterly spellbound from the first confusing, ruthless story. The prose is just magnificent beyond description. It's spare yet somehow lush at the same time. The reader is dropped in the middle of each story, no real background, no information, and the pace is almost too breathless; abrupt. It shouldn't work; it's like what a very inexperienced, bad writer might do. I guess the effect is created by sentence after sentence with no real connection sometimes, switching gears without a paragraph break where you might expect one (such as when there's a new speaker in dialogue), lists without proper punctuation. But it does work. It's hard and lovely. Something about it feels more lifelike; perceptions and thoughts all rushed together, no sense of narrative structure or contrivance. Switches tense and person seemingly at random. All the while magically spinning this harsh stark world you've never encountered before. The language so gorgeous you wish you could bathe in it.
"Leaves fall gently. The sun breaking through. In a flash, everything seemed interconnected as it's meant to be; I watched the shadows of the trees' canopies on the path, and noticed how the wind moved the leaves in the treetops, light falling, shifting quickly between shimmering sunlight and dense darkness, and the sounds of gentle rustling, whispering, and mumbling, all so soothing; my heart about to burst. I am warm and cold, and I was also warm and cold too when the church bells struck ten, and I pressed my mouth against a stray branch, and prayed for my life, and began to walk that Tuesday past the rose beds and the little pond with ducklings."
Gotta read this again, and pray there's something else of hers that's been translated. I LOVE NAJA MARIE AIDT!
And although I maybe wouldn't go so far as to say I "get" these stories, I can confidently say that this woman is a genius. I feel so, so lucky that this collection came out in such a beautiful English translation, and that I got my hands on an ARC. I was utterly spellbound from the first confusing, ruthless story. The prose is just magnificent beyond description. It's spare yet somehow lush at the same time. The reader is dropped in the middle of each story, no real background, no information, and the pace is almost too breathless; abrupt. It shouldn't work; it's like what a very inexperienced, bad writer might do. I guess the effect is created by sentence after sentence with no real connection sometimes, switching gears without a paragraph break where you might expect one (such as when there's a new speaker in dialogue), lists without proper punctuation. But it does work. It's hard and lovely. Something about it feels more lifelike; perceptions and thoughts all rushed together, no sense of narrative structure or contrivance. Switches tense and person seemingly at random. All the while magically spinning this harsh stark world you've never encountered before. The language so gorgeous you wish you could bathe in it.
"Leaves fall gently. The sun breaking through. In a flash, everything seemed interconnected as it's meant to be; I watched the shadows of the trees' canopies on the path, and noticed how the wind moved the leaves in the treetops, light falling, shifting quickly between shimmering sunlight and dense darkness, and the sounds of gentle rustling, whispering, and mumbling, all so soothing; my heart about to burst. I am warm and cold, and I was also warm and cold too when the church bells struck ten, and I pressed my mouth against a stray branch, and prayed for my life, and began to walk that Tuesday past the rose beds and the little pond with ducklings."
Gotta read this again, and pray there's something else of hers that's been translated. I LOVE NAJA MARIE AIDT!
September 30, 2018
Ojojoj, for noen noveller! Hårfin balansegang mellom nydelig og avskyelig, hver eneste en av dem. Vi er skrøpelige vi mennesker, onskapsfulle og egoistiske kan vi også være. Men midt i alt lyser det alltid frem noe fint, varmt og vart.
December 1, 2021
Zdanlivá všednosť jednotlivých poviedok prerastá do znepokojivej atmosféry. Bežne životy bežných ľudí, ktorí sa predsa len nemajú dobre.
Čítalo sa to rýchlo, ale nečítalo sa to dobre.
Čítalo sa to rýchlo, ale nečítalo sa to dobre.
March 18, 2024
Una antología algo irregular, con relatos muy potentes y otros que me han dejado más frío. La autora, para mi sorpresa, nos muestra una voz agresiva, sucia, que se me antoja masculina en el peor sentido, logrando imágenes de gran potencia. Excesiva, incluso, en ocasiones. Han elegido muy bien el relato de inicio y el de cierre, son potentes y muy bien escritos.
No sé si me provoca interés por esta autora, quizás porque no era el estilo que más necesitaba leer últimamente, pero está claro que Naja Marie Aidt tiene una voz propia y poderosa, sin miedo a lo grotesco y a la(s) violencia(s) y que sabe lo que hace ante el papel en blanco. Quizás sea esto su mayor desventaja: si no engarzas con este tipo de literatura o con su estilo narrativo, es muy probable que te cause rechazo. Además, no hay descanso ni redención posible. Todos los relatos son, de una manera u otra, duros, y no hay ningún personaje verdaderamente bueno o redimible. En ese sentido, me ha recordado la mirada pesimista, casi nihilista, de Rafael Chirbes, aunque sean muy diferentes en su forma de escribir.
En conclusión, un libro que recomiendo con reservas, y que aconsejo que se tome en un buen momento mental, porque te arrastra bastante a unas tinieblas muy reales y humanas. A veces no son necesarios grandes monstruos o asesinos para teñir de negro un relato.
No sé si me provoca interés por esta autora, quizás porque no era el estilo que más necesitaba leer últimamente, pero está claro que Naja Marie Aidt tiene una voz propia y poderosa, sin miedo a lo grotesco y a la(s) violencia(s) y que sabe lo que hace ante el papel en blanco. Quizás sea esto su mayor desventaja: si no engarzas con este tipo de literatura o con su estilo narrativo, es muy probable que te cause rechazo. Además, no hay descanso ni redención posible. Todos los relatos son, de una manera u otra, duros, y no hay ningún personaje verdaderamente bueno o redimible. En ese sentido, me ha recordado la mirada pesimista, casi nihilista, de Rafael Chirbes, aunque sean muy diferentes en su forma de escribir.
En conclusión, un libro que recomiendo con reservas, y que aconsejo que se tome en un buen momento mental, porque te arrastra bastante a unas tinieblas muy reales y humanas. A veces no son necesarios grandes monstruos o asesinos para teñir de negro un relato.
November 17, 2015
Baboon, Naja Marie Aidt (Denise Newman), in media res and where is this going (and still don't always know, care) and painful but masterful (and both this and The Guilty (Juan Villoro...brought up because read close - in time (and space) instead of making me feel the gaps between cultures instead explodes it and introduces the (t's always there) universality)
January 10, 2010
Cynical, raw, devoid of meaning. Brimming with disdain for the characters. A small book.
December 2, 2024
Min dansklærer æra 2/3. Er den ældet lidt dårligt?
Halvdelen af novellerne skal have et eller andet “brutalt” tvist på sidste side. Det greb føles påtaget punk, lidt ligesom samtidige Greenday føles påtaget punk.
Når de ikke har den påtagede følelse er den ganske glimrende. Hvilket bare gør skuffelsen desto større hvis der så er et nemt hovsa tvist til sidst.
Nogle af historierne der går fri for dette er 6/6 gode, så læse den gerne og smil over tiden der er gået imens.
Halvdelen af novellerne skal have et eller andet “brutalt” tvist på sidste side. Det greb føles påtaget punk, lidt ligesom samtidige Greenday føles påtaget punk.
Når de ikke har den påtagede følelse er den ganske glimrende. Hvilket bare gør skuffelsen desto større hvis der så er et nemt hovsa tvist til sidst.
Nogle af historierne der går fri for dette er 6/6 gode, så læse den gerne og smil over tiden der er gået imens.
October 19, 2025
Hver enkelt novelle satte sig fast i mig. Alle sammen med et plot twist man ikke ser komme.
July 17, 2017
So, I've recently realized that I have a major crush on short story collections. Naja Marie Aidt's "Baboon" is part of this epiphany. This collection is abrasive and emphasizes the dirty human (read as: the eclectic genetics of a hot dog soaked in bleach.) Within, mother hates child, man hates woman, woman hates woman, et cetera.)
The language here is direct, gritty, and apathetic; each story offers parts of us we suppress, and does so beautifully. Once the world's collective misanthropy reaches its boiling point, I'll be in a snowy log cabin with only my entire experimental short story collection and a box of Marshmallow Crispy Treats, pondering the genetics of a hot dog soaked in bleach.
The language here is direct, gritty, and apathetic; each story offers parts of us we suppress, and does so beautifully. Once the world's collective misanthropy reaches its boiling point, I'll be in a snowy log cabin with only my entire experimental short story collection and a box of Marshmallow Crispy Treats, pondering the genetics of a hot dog soaked in bleach.
January 20, 2021
I wanted to like this. I felt like it was “weird for the sake of weird” without evoking any emotion for me other than “???”. The stories lacked flow and the structure was choppy.
February 2, 2024
Naja, jeg elsker dig, men hvad var det?
February 17, 2018
Fremragende novellesamling. Naja Marie Aidt har en eminent iagttagelsesevne og en sprød pen, hvormed hun med særegen sikkerhed formår at gøre komplekse situationer levende og nærværende med ganske få ord. Stort set hver eneste af disse noveller er ladet med en udefinerlig spænding, noget usagt eller ugjort, noget vibrerende, som man som læser ikke præcist kan identificere, men som man kan fornemme. Og hele tiden venter man på, at det måske skal eksplodere.
Læs den fulde boganmeldelse på K’s bognoter: http://bognoter.dk/2018/02/17/naja-ma...
Læs den fulde boganmeldelse på K’s bognoter: http://bognoter.dk/2018/02/17/naja-ma...
November 13, 2020
Aidt’s stories aren’t science fiction or fantasy, but the angle of approach of her narrators is often so skewed or aslant that one might be forgiven for thinking so. The subjects are generally “ordinary”—squabbling families, relationships, travel—but the feel is “out there.” The translation is smooth and reads, almost throughout, like an original English language work.
July 24, 2024
Jeg elsker Bavian og dens mesterligt udførte grusomme, hæslige noveller om alt det udflydende, sære og ulækre i menneskelivet….
Myggestikket der vokser sig til livstruende og hæslig sygdom. Cykelturen til Bulbjerg der afslører bizar utroskab. Slik. Hård Sex. Skilsmisse. William Blake.
Naja Marie Aidts noveller er hårde og grimme at læse , de sætter sig på sindet som små brændmærker fra en cigaret. Bavian fortjener sin status som nyklassiker.
Myggestikket der vokser sig til livstruende og hæslig sygdom. Cykelturen til Bulbjerg der afslører bizar utroskab. Slik. Hård Sex. Skilsmisse. William Blake.
Naja Marie Aidts noveller er hårde og grimme at læse , de sætter sig på sindet som små brændmærker fra en cigaret. Bavian fortjener sin status som nyklassiker.
April 11, 2022
I really liked Naja Marie Aidt's writing style. A lot gets told with few words and not much explanation. She is great at creating tension and the overall feel that something isn't right.
I love how the normal gets shaken up by something unexpected and things escalate.
I love how the normal gets shaken up by something unexpected and things escalate.
May 5, 2023
For meg var de fleste novellene veldig interessante, og la seg lese veldig enkelt. Jeg likte som regel de korte novellene. De tilby en ubehagelig, grotesk atmosfære som også er typisk for Helle Helle og som jeg setter stor pris på.
January 11, 2024
Jag uppskattade 2 av 15 noveller…De är minst sagt mörka och obarmhärtiga som beskrivs på bokens baksida, som jag många gånger kan uppskatta annars, men karaktärernas enorma elakhet gör att jag varken kan sympatisera med eller förstå.
Novellerna gjorde mig mest upprörd - kanske författarens tanke (?) men det var inte alls min typ av bok.
Tänkte ge den två stjärnor först för gillade ändå hur miljöer och känslor beskrev, men sen såg jag att n-ordet användes i sista novellen..så nej.
Novellerna gjorde mig mest upprörd - kanske författarens tanke (?) men det var inte alls min typ av bok.
Tänkte ge den två stjärnor först för gillade ändå hur miljöer och känslor beskrev, men sen såg jag att n-ordet användes i sista novellen..så nej.
September 5, 2024
Studielæsning - ikke kæmpe fan af minimalisme, men vi prøver for Jonas’ skyld. Dog lever jeg på antik symbolisme.
August 1, 2016
Short stories, short review.
Born in Greenland, Danish language writer Naja Marie Aidt won the Nordic Council’s Literature Prize in 2008 for this short story collection (originally published as ‘Bavian’), and the translation, her first work to appear in English, was the recipient of the 2015 PEN Translation Prize. Add to the list of honours, a longlist appearance for the US based Best Translated Book Award, it meant my purposely delayed reading of these fifteen short stories to co-incide with Women In Translation Month was only heightening my sense of anticipation.
A collection which includes the surreal, the all too real, twists, simple incidents, it is not a work which can be easily classified. However the theme of fractured relationships kept bubbling to the surface.
We have stories with divorced couple, a couple with an adopted child revealing their extra marital affairs to each other, an abusive mother who beats her two-year-old child, a minor shoplifting incident which spirals out of control...
The story “The Honeymoon” explores a couple on their way to the matriarchal city of Olympus when they are attacked by a William Blake quoting savage.
For my full review go to http://messybooker.blogspot.com.au/20...
Born in Greenland, Danish language writer Naja Marie Aidt won the Nordic Council’s Literature Prize in 2008 for this short story collection (originally published as ‘Bavian’), and the translation, her first work to appear in English, was the recipient of the 2015 PEN Translation Prize. Add to the list of honours, a longlist appearance for the US based Best Translated Book Award, it meant my purposely delayed reading of these fifteen short stories to co-incide with Women In Translation Month was only heightening my sense of anticipation.
A collection which includes the surreal, the all too real, twists, simple incidents, it is not a work which can be easily classified. However the theme of fractured relationships kept bubbling to the surface.
We have stories with divorced couple, a couple with an adopted child revealing their extra marital affairs to each other, an abusive mother who beats her two-year-old child, a minor shoplifting incident which spirals out of control...
The story “The Honeymoon” explores a couple on their way to the matriarchal city of Olympus when they are attacked by a William Blake quoting savage.
For my full review go to http://messybooker.blogspot.com.au/20...
May 14, 2015
It was OK sums up my experience perfectly while reading this book. Naja Marie Aidt is said to be a very popular/famous/well-known author across Europe and her works win several prizes (she's like Haruki Murakami in Japan), but my comment on the first book I read from her, which is this book, is just OK. I don't know if it's because I read this while I was busy with work so my mind was scattered here and there or it's simply because I don't understand what the book is all about.
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I found so many fragments inside the book and wasn't quite sure if it's her writing style or there's a "lost in translation" moment on every page.
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Reading the review and the interview when she talks about this book actually convinced me to buy the book. She says that the book portrays disconnection between people (well, I got disconnected all the time every time I turned a page).
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If anyone has read this book, please let me know what's this book all about? Discussion is welcomed! :)
.
I found so many fragments inside the book and wasn't quite sure if it's her writing style or there's a "lost in translation" moment on every page.
.
Reading the review and the interview when she talks about this book actually convinced me to buy the book. She says that the book portrays disconnection between people (well, I got disconnected all the time every time I turned a page).
.
If anyone has read this book, please let me know what's this book all about? Discussion is welcomed! :)
March 14, 2020
Tungsindig, hverdagsliv i forskellige samfundsklasser, stress, rutiner, dysfunktionelle familier, utroskab, facader
Jeg læste bogen i 9. klasse, og især én af novellerne tænker jeg stadig ofte på: Torben og Maria. En sindssygt skarp og opsigtsvækkende novelle om den 2-årige Torbens tragiske hverdag præget af vold udøvet af sin egen mor (og hvordan Maria samtidig får råd fra sin mor om, hvordan hun skal slå Torben, så de blå mærker ikke bliver opdaget).
Social arv og omsorgssvigt i litteraturen kredser sig ofte om alkoholmisbrug og fattigdom, synes jeg, men Torben og Maria handler fuldstændig nøgternt om en mors manglende kærlighed til sin søn, hendes opfattelse af ham som en ligegyldighed, en klods om benet, hvilket gør novellen virkelig voldsom, men fascinerende på samme tid. Den er skrevet fra "Bjerget"s perspektiv, en mand, der novellen igennem observerer Maria på afstand og kan fortælle alt om hende (jævnt creepy) og hendes tankemønstre. Den er virkelig god.
Jeg læste bogen i 9. klasse, og især én af novellerne tænker jeg stadig ofte på: Torben og Maria. En sindssygt skarp og opsigtsvækkende novelle om den 2-årige Torbens tragiske hverdag præget af vold udøvet af sin egen mor (og hvordan Maria samtidig får råd fra sin mor om, hvordan hun skal slå Torben, så de blå mærker ikke bliver opdaget).
Social arv og omsorgssvigt i litteraturen kredser sig ofte om alkoholmisbrug og fattigdom, synes jeg, men Torben og Maria handler fuldstændig nøgternt om en mors manglende kærlighed til sin søn, hendes opfattelse af ham som en ligegyldighed, en klods om benet, hvilket gør novellen virkelig voldsom, men fascinerende på samme tid. Den er skrevet fra "Bjerget"s perspektiv, en mand, der novellen igennem observerer Maria på afstand og kan fortælle alt om hende (jævnt creepy) og hendes tankemønstre. Den er virkelig god.
March 25, 2013
Jeg synes virkelig at det var nogle gode noveller som aidt har skrevet her, havde læst "arbrydelse" før i forbindelse med gymnasiet, det komme jeg dog først i tanke om imens jeg var igang med den novelle. Det var mega fedt bare at begive "sig ud på et nyt eventyr" eller at "åbne et nyt vindue til et syt sind" hver gang man begyndte på en ny novelle.
Dem der faldt mest i min smag tror jeg var "myggestik" og "stjerneklart", da deres historier var vildt godt gennemtænkte, og virkelig chokerede mig, så jeg blev nødt til at sidde lidt bagefter, bare hvor jeg kunne tænke på den historie jeg lige havde fået fortalt.
Alt i alt en god oplevelse, måske var "overraskelsen" / "vendepunktet" i novellerne lidt for tydelig, eller for forventet, men det gjorde egentlig ikke så meget.
glæder mig til at læse mere af aidt.
Dem der faldt mest i min smag tror jeg var "myggestik" og "stjerneklart", da deres historier var vildt godt gennemtænkte, og virkelig chokerede mig, så jeg blev nødt til at sidde lidt bagefter, bare hvor jeg kunne tænke på den historie jeg lige havde fået fortalt.
Alt i alt en god oplevelse, måske var "overraskelsen" / "vendepunktet" i novellerne lidt for tydelig, eller for forventet, men det gjorde egentlig ikke så meget.
glæder mig til at læse mere af aidt.
February 2, 2017
Imagine reading an account of someone else's nightmares: uncanny, graphic, strange. That was the impression I got from these short stories. Events that might seem ordinary but there is something off about them. Characters unsure of what they are seeing and feeling.
This wasn't what I was expecting of these stories. I do enjoy dark and unusual stories from time to time, but it really did feel like I was eavesdropping on someone else's troubling dreams as I read this. That being said, there were a few stories I really enjoyed for the content and the prose: "Conference," "The Green Darkness of the Big Trees," and most of all "Wounds." These aren't stories for everyone. But they could be for you.
This wasn't what I was expecting of these stories. I do enjoy dark and unusual stories from time to time, but it really did feel like I was eavesdropping on someone else's troubling dreams as I read this. That being said, there were a few stories I really enjoyed for the content and the prose: "Conference," "The Green Darkness of the Big Trees," and most of all "Wounds." These aren't stories for everyone. But they could be for you.
February 10, 2017
Naja Marie Aidts 'Bavian' har de sidste ti år været fast inventar i de danske boghandlere. Nu fandt jeg et eksemplar i min lokale genbrug og tænkte, at det var på tide at give den en chance.
Det er noveller med en overraskende handling. Nogle gange sker der noget vanvittigt, andre gange følger handlingen et uventet spor. Det kan jeg godt lide. Der er en slags fuck-berettermodellen-attitude, og det er forfriskende. I hvert fald i de første noveller.
Novellerne handler om parhold, sex, vold, fattigdom, kønsroller. Alle kendte temaer i dansk litteratur. De går tæt på, og der er mange eksplicitte beskrivelser. Lidt for mange. Naja Marie Aidt skriver godt og spændende og indsigtsfuldt, og netop derfor kunne jeg godt tænke mig, at der ikke hele tiden skal et stiv pik ind i billedet.
Det er noveller med en overraskende handling. Nogle gange sker der noget vanvittigt, andre gange følger handlingen et uventet spor. Det kan jeg godt lide. Der er en slags fuck-berettermodellen-attitude, og det er forfriskende. I hvert fald i de første noveller.
Novellerne handler om parhold, sex, vold, fattigdom, kønsroller. Alle kendte temaer i dansk litteratur. De går tæt på, og der er mange eksplicitte beskrivelser. Lidt for mange. Naja Marie Aidt skriver godt og spændende og indsigtsfuldt, og netop derfor kunne jeg godt tænke mig, at der ikke hele tiden skal et stiv pik ind i billedet.
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