Published in 1950 and hailed as one of the great novels to come out of post-war Denmark, Martin Hansen’s The Liar chronicles a few days in the uneventful life of Johannes Lye on tiny, insignificant Sand Island. Narrated by Johannes in a series of diary entries, the novel opens (on Friday, March 13) as the pack ice that’s cut the island off from the mainland for the entire winter is starting to break up. But though the coming of spring is normally a harbinger of milder weather and better days ahead, Johannes sees no cause for celebration because, as he tells us, “If this really is spring, I’m afraid there’ll be a few troubled hearts here on Sand Island.” Johannes lives alone in a building that doubles as the island’s schoolhouse. In addition to his role as teacher, Johannes serves as postmaster and church deacon, so has a finger in almost everyone’s business to one degree or another. Johannes’s narrative revolves around a few central characters, the most prominent of which is Annemari, a beautiful former student for whom Johannes holds a torch. Annemari however, though betrothed to gentle giant Olaf, who’s been stranded on the mainland for the winter, is carrying on an affair with a visiting engineer named Harry. A complicating factor in this relationship is Olaf and Annemari’s young son, Tom. Johannes, approaching forty and painfully aware of his lack of physical charms, seems unable to commit emotionally to another person. Annemari makes it clear that she likes him fine but has waited long enough for him to make his move, and so as a means to escape Sand Island has attached herself to Harry. In the meantime, Johannes awaits Olaf’s return from the mainland, anticipating some sort of dramatic turmoil when Olaf discovers that Annemari’s plans for the future do not include him. In addition to Annemari, Johannes is attracted to lovely Rigmor, the lonely, neglected wife of Frederik, master of Naes Hall, wealthy landowner and the island’s most prominent citizen. But Johannes keeps himself aloof from emotional attachments, creating distance at crucial moments with sardonic quips and self-deprecating non-sequiturs. His diary (addressed to an imaginary auditor named Nathanial) records repeated instances where words fail him. The story, as such, is simply Johannes’s day to day activities, his encounters and conversations with other residents of the island, walks with his dog Pigro, his fascination with and deep appreciation of the island’s wildlife and the landscape’s stark beauty. But though his activities are not unusual, his life seems to be unraveling, a process brought into sharp relief when he freezes in church while delivering a sermon. The novel ends a year after the story’s main events. At this point, Annemari and Harry are residing somewhere on the mainland, having, with Olaf’s blessing, taken Tom with them. Johannes is living much the same life as before, except that he has invited Elna, ex-barmaid, to take up residence in the schoolhouse, where she can raise her newborn away from prying eyes, a decision that he vaguely regrets. Johannes’s story is one of emotional stasis, the melancholy tale of a man who observes others thriving (or not) in close relationships but who is unable to take the plunge himself. But we have to wonder if any of what he tells us is true. He admits that he didn’t start writing his account until a year after everything happened, so how accurate are his recollections? What are we to believe? Even the story he told Annemari, about arriving on Sand Island after being jilted by the woman he loved, is thrown into question. Intentionally or not, Hansen’s novel deftly captures the mood of post-war Europe, one of desperation and moral exhaustion. But even after reading it The Liar remains a puzzle: an engrossing and fiendishly enigmatic masterpiece of psychological realism with a protagonist whose motives are elusive to the bitter end.