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La vérité sur la lumière
Issue d'une lignée de sages-femmes, Dyja est à son tour " mère de la lumière ". Ses parents dirigent des pompes funèbres, sa soeur est météorologue : naître, mourir, et au milieu quelques tempêtes. Alors qu'un ouragan menace, Dyja aide à mettre au monde son 1922e bébé. Elle apprivoise l'appartement hérité de sa grand-tante, avec ses meubles vintage, ses ampoules qui clignotent et un carton à bananes rempli de manuscrits : récits de sages-femmes d'antan et réflexions aussi fantasques que visionnaires. Sous les combles, un touriste australien semble venu des antipodes pour faire le point. Décidément, l'être humain est l'animal le plus vulnérable de la Terre, le fil ténu qui relie à la vie aussi fragile qu'une aurore boréale. Explorant avec grâce les troublantes drôleries de l'inconstance humaine, Auôur Ava Olafsdóttir poursuit depuis Rosa candida une oeuvre d'une grande finesse. Elle a reçu le Prix Médicis étranger pour Miss Islande.
192 pages
First published November 1, 2020
133 people are currently reading
5351 people want to read
About the author
Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir
15 books1,063 followersAuður Ava Ólafsdóttir was born in Iceland in 1958, studied art history in Paris and has lectured in History of Art at the University of Iceland. Her earlier novel, The Greenhouse (2007), won the DV Culture Award for literature and was nominated for the Nordic Council Literature Award. She currently lives and works in Reykjavik.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 498 reviews
March 31, 2023
Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir is currently swiping up awards for Eden (where is the translation???), but the predecessor of her latest Icelandic bestseller is also pretty captivating: The hazy text feels like it's set in a dreamscape, as we accompany our narrator Dýja, a woman who follows in the footsteps of her ancestors by working as a midwife. She had a particularly close relationship to her recently deceased grandaunt Fifa (also a midwife, of course), who left behind three unpublished manuscripts which Dýia works through to better understand Fifa, herself and the world. The manuscripts revolve around the relationship between animals and humans, coincidence and light - not only is the Icelandic word for midwife "mother of light", we also experience the short winter daylight period on the island as well as a brewing storm enhanced by climate change that haunts the whole text.
Dýja, who lost her own child in a stillbirth, gave up theology for midwifery, but with the help of Fifa's manuscripts, she still puzzles over the role of humans on earth and the purpose of our existence - so regarding plot, there is not much action here, the star is the crystalline writing and the quiet existential circle of life and death that Dýja is closely connected to due to her profession. Living on a (beautiful!) rock in the Atlantic where generations have survived under hardest conditions, Icelanders are not prone to sentimental ruminations, and Dýia also tries to approach difficult, fundamental question with clear sight - but underneath, strong emotions like grief and compassion are moving her (the volcano is a recurring motif in Ólafsdóttir's texts). Hers is a journey of searching and transformation, as she aims to renovate the house she is living in while dealing with the grief of losing Fifa. Both Dyía and Fifa are nicknames - both are actually named Dómhildur.
This is a quiet book that still packs a punch due to the intense, haunting atmosphere and its - typically Ólafsdóttir - strong female characters. The literature Iceland produces is enviable.
Dýja, who lost her own child in a stillbirth, gave up theology for midwifery, but with the help of Fifa's manuscripts, she still puzzles over the role of humans on earth and the purpose of our existence - so regarding plot, there is not much action here, the star is the crystalline writing and the quiet existential circle of life and death that Dýja is closely connected to due to her profession. Living on a (beautiful!) rock in the Atlantic where generations have survived under hardest conditions, Icelanders are not prone to sentimental ruminations, and Dýia also tries to approach difficult, fundamental question with clear sight - but underneath, strong emotions like grief and compassion are moving her (the volcano is a recurring motif in Ólafsdóttir's texts). Hers is a journey of searching and transformation, as she aims to renovate the house she is living in while dealing with the grief of losing Fifa. Both Dyía and Fifa are nicknames - both are actually named Dómhildur.
This is a quiet book that still packs a punch due to the intense, haunting atmosphere and its - typically Ólafsdóttir - strong female characters. The literature Iceland produces is enviable.
November 25, 2021
In islandese la parola "ostetrica" si traduce “ljósmóðir". Questa parola nel 2013 è stata votata come parola più bella della lingua islandese. “Nella motivazione della commissione giudicante si dice che il vocabolo riunisce due fra le parole piú belle: madre e luce. Ljósmóðir, o madre della luce, in islandese è anche chiamata yfirsetukona, náverukona, jóðmóðir, léttakona, nærkona, ljósa.”
La protagonista di questo romanzo è infatti un'ostetrica: la giovane Dýja vive in un appartamento che eredita dalla zia defunta, ostetrica anche lei. In questo appartamento, di cui all'inizio non vuole cambiare nulla, alla fine Dýja trova dei appunti, come se fossero parte di un libro che sua zia non ha mai pubblicato. In questi fogli dattiloscritti, Dýja ritrova le riflessioni di sua zia, sullo scopo della vita e sulla luce.
La luce, infatti, è uno dei protagonisti naturali di questo romanzo. La luce legata non solo al fenomeno dell'inizio della vita, quellache sopraggiunge non appena si abbandona la placenta per uscire dal buio e nascere, ma anche al fenomeno delle aurore boreali:
“Fa un sospiro profondo.
– Spieghi che dal sole vengono trasportate particelle elettricamente cariche che entrano nel campo magnetico terrestre in prossimità dei poli, dove si muovono a grande velocità seguendo dei percorsi a spirale e al contempo attivando molecole nell’atmosfera che emanano un’energia e che la luce dell’aurora boreale è la manifestazione di quell’energia.”
Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir con “La vita degli animali”, scrive un romanzo che è legato all'arte della levatrice, alla luce sprigionata dalle aurore boreali, alla pandemia, ai ricordi di famiglia.
“Ora puoi venire giorno
io sto aspettando
che tu sorga
tutto è bianco
tutto è vuoto e vacuo
il chiarore sullo schermo del computer si fonde
con il chiarore della neve fuori
io sto aspettando
sotto un nuovo cielo
s o p r a u n a n u o v a t e r r a
si sente
un
uccello
cantare”
Tra 4 e 5 stelle.
La protagonista di questo romanzo è infatti un'ostetrica: la giovane Dýja vive in un appartamento che eredita dalla zia defunta, ostetrica anche lei. In questo appartamento, di cui all'inizio non vuole cambiare nulla, alla fine Dýja trova dei appunti, come se fossero parte di un libro che sua zia non ha mai pubblicato. In questi fogli dattiloscritti, Dýja ritrova le riflessioni di sua zia, sullo scopo della vita e sulla luce.
La luce, infatti, è uno dei protagonisti naturali di questo romanzo. La luce legata non solo al fenomeno dell'inizio della vita, quellache sopraggiunge non appena si abbandona la placenta per uscire dal buio e nascere, ma anche al fenomeno delle aurore boreali:
“Fa un sospiro profondo.
– Spieghi che dal sole vengono trasportate particelle elettricamente cariche che entrano nel campo magnetico terrestre in prossimità dei poli, dove si muovono a grande velocità seguendo dei percorsi a spirale e al contempo attivando molecole nell’atmosfera che emanano un’energia e che la luce dell’aurora boreale è la manifestazione di quell’energia.”
Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir con “La vita degli animali”, scrive un romanzo che è legato all'arte della levatrice, alla luce sprigionata dalle aurore boreali, alla pandemia, ai ricordi di famiglia.
“Ora puoi venire giorno
io sto aspettando
che tu sorga
tutto è bianco
tutto è vuoto e vacuo
il chiarore sullo schermo del computer si fonde
con il chiarore della neve fuori
io sto aspettando
sotto un nuovo cielo
s o p r a u n a n u o v a t e r r a
si sente
un
uccello
cantare”
Tra 4 e 5 stelle.
October 24, 2022
3.5★
I liked Ólafsdóttir’s writing in Miss Iceland, and I was eager to read her newest novel, Animal Life. My expectations were high, of course. Although I liked the writing again, I didn’t quite feel the same for the whole novel.
Dómhildur is a midwife. She is from a family of midwives on her mother’s and undertakers from her father’s side. Her deceased great-aunt was a midwife too. Now she lives in her old apartment. In the days before Christmas, when a terrible storm is approaching Reykjavík, she discovers a box with her letters and manuscripts. Dómhildur finds out a few things she didn’t know about her great-aunt.
There is little plot. The novel is mainly a reflection on midwifery, birth, life, death, light, and dark. Animal Life is a great tribute to one person’s life. Although I felt the author opened too many themes. I expected this novel to be about birth and death, but it also covers other themes like animal rights.
The writing is beautiful. Readers who enjoy reflecting novels and are interested in themes like those mentioned above could like this.
Release date: 06 Dec 2022. Thanks to Grove Atlantic for the ARC and this opportunity! This is a voluntary review, and all opinions are my own.
I liked Ólafsdóttir’s writing in Miss Iceland, and I was eager to read her newest novel, Animal Life. My expectations were high, of course. Although I liked the writing again, I didn’t quite feel the same for the whole novel.
Dómhildur is a midwife. She is from a family of midwives on her mother’s and undertakers from her father’s side. Her deceased great-aunt was a midwife too. Now she lives in her old apartment. In the days before Christmas, when a terrible storm is approaching Reykjavík, she discovers a box with her letters and manuscripts. Dómhildur finds out a few things she didn’t know about her great-aunt.
There is little plot. The novel is mainly a reflection on midwifery, birth, life, death, light, and dark. Animal Life is a great tribute to one person’s life. Although I felt the author opened too many themes. I expected this novel to be about birth and death, but it also covers other themes like animal rights.
The writing is beautiful. Readers who enjoy reflecting novels and are interested in themes like those mentioned above could like this.
Release date: 06 Dec 2022. Thanks to Grove Atlantic for the ARC and this opportunity! This is a voluntary review, and all opinions are my own.
February 19, 2024
3,5
En islandés, la palabra “partera” está considerada la más bella del idioma, debió a que puede traducirse como “madre de la luz”. La protagonista de la novela es lo que hoy llamamos una matrona, Dyja vive en un apartamento que heredo de su tía, también matrona. En esta casa va encontrando notas de su tía , que parecen partes de una novela que su tía nunca publicó. Notas de reflexiones sobre el propósito de la vida.
La autora deja claro el interés en muchos temas diferentes, desde la naturaleza, los nacimientos, la luz y la oscuridad (en sentido metafórico y real), un ejemplo es que el libro esta contado justo en la época mas oscura de Islandia, cuando hay muy pocas horas de luz.
Un libro muy ágil de leer, pero muy diferente, con muchos temas que invitan a reflexionar, contada en primera persona, con pocos personajes y algunos algo aleatorios que parece que no tienen mucho que ver con la historia, como por ejemplo un electricista que cuenta que su esposa sufre depresión postparto. Tiene partes para pensar, pero tiene otras partes bastante cómicas.
Me ha gustado, pero es un libro muy diferente a lo que suelo leer, y para mi gusto va de menos a mas.
En islandés, la palabra “partera” está considerada la más bella del idioma, debió a que puede traducirse como “madre de la luz”. La protagonista de la novela es lo que hoy llamamos una matrona, Dyja vive en un apartamento que heredo de su tía, también matrona. En esta casa va encontrando notas de su tía , que parecen partes de una novela que su tía nunca publicó. Notas de reflexiones sobre el propósito de la vida.
La autora deja claro el interés en muchos temas diferentes, desde la naturaleza, los nacimientos, la luz y la oscuridad (en sentido metafórico y real), un ejemplo es que el libro esta contado justo en la época mas oscura de Islandia, cuando hay muy pocas horas de luz.
Un libro muy ágil de leer, pero muy diferente, con muchos temas que invitan a reflexionar, contada en primera persona, con pocos personajes y algunos algo aleatorios que parece que no tienen mucho que ver con la historia, como por ejemplo un electricista que cuenta que su esposa sufre depresión postparto. Tiene partes para pensar, pero tiene otras partes bastante cómicas.
Me ha gustado, pero es un libro muy diferente a lo que suelo leer, y para mi gusto va de menos a mas.
April 15, 2023
V roku 2013 vyberali Islanďania najkrajšie islandské slovo. Nakoniec vybrali podstatné meno s deviatimi hláskami, ktoré označuje zdravotníckeho pracovníka, čo je ale aj výraz pre pôrodnú asistentku. Takto začína kniha, ktorú som si na čítanie vybrala v súvislosti s témou nášho nadchádzajúceho knižného klubu.
Človek vraj musí v živote podstúpiť dve najťažšie skúšky. Musí sa narodiť a zomrieť. Tak, ako sa musí narodiť aj svet, do ktorého prichádzame a raz pravdepodobne zanikne. V jednej rozhodujúcej a ťažkej chvíli zanikne minimálne pre nás samých. Svetlo je ale základnou stavebnou jednotkou života, rovnako ako základnou časovou jednotkou nie je okamih, či sekunda, ale náhoda.
Štyridsaťročná pôrodná asistentka žije v byte svojej pratety, ktorá bola tiež tou, ktorá celý život pomáhala deťom na svet. Byt je preplnený nábytkom, vecami, knihami a písomnosťami. Po pratetinej smrti Dómhildur objavuje jej pripravované rukopisy kníh o svetle a prírode, ktoré nikdy nechcel nikto vydať. 93 ročná žena odchádza zo svojho svetla života so slovami " Bylo moc hezké vyskoušet si žít." str. 189
Bolo krásne čítať túto knihu, z ktorej cítiť autorkin pôvod a spätosť s krajinou z ktorej pochádza na každej stránke. Matka svetla je nielen označením povolania, ktoré dve generácie žien v rodine hlavnej hrdinky berú ako svoje poslanie. Matkou svetla je každá žena a každý muž, že svetlu človek najlepšie rozumie, v čase, keď je ho najmenej. Môže to byť aj svetlo, ktoré vychádza z nás samých, ktoré darujeme iným ľudom, ak máme čo darovať.
" Jen si předsav, kolik lidí asi tak postává ráno u okna, Dyjíčko, a čeká, až se rozední, anebo večer, až se setmí." str. 162
Človek vraj musí v živote podstúpiť dve najťažšie skúšky. Musí sa narodiť a zomrieť. Tak, ako sa musí narodiť aj svet, do ktorého prichádzame a raz pravdepodobne zanikne. V jednej rozhodujúcej a ťažkej chvíli zanikne minimálne pre nás samých. Svetlo je ale základnou stavebnou jednotkou života, rovnako ako základnou časovou jednotkou nie je okamih, či sekunda, ale náhoda.
Štyridsaťročná pôrodná asistentka žije v byte svojej pratety, ktorá bola tiež tou, ktorá celý život pomáhala deťom na svet. Byt je preplnený nábytkom, vecami, knihami a písomnosťami. Po pratetinej smrti Dómhildur objavuje jej pripravované rukopisy kníh o svetle a prírode, ktoré nikdy nechcel nikto vydať. 93 ročná žena odchádza zo svojho svetla života so slovami " Bylo moc hezké vyskoušet si žít." str. 189
Bolo krásne čítať túto knihu, z ktorej cítiť autorkin pôvod a spätosť s krajinou z ktorej pochádza na každej stránke. Matka svetla je nielen označením povolania, ktoré dve generácie žien v rodine hlavnej hrdinky berú ako svoje poslanie. Matkou svetla je každá žena a každý muž, že svetlu človek najlepšie rozumie, v čase, keď je ho najmenej. Môže to byť aj svetlo, ktoré vychádza z nás samých, ktoré darujeme iným ľudom, ak máme čo darovať.
" Jen si předsav, kolik lidí asi tak postává ráno u okna, Dyjíčko, a čeká, až se rozední, anebo večer, až se setmí." str. 162
June 15, 2024
Dómhildur (Dýja) is a midwife living in Iceland in a flat left to her by her grandaunt. Her grandaunt was also a midwife, who had written a series of manuscripts that appear to have been submitted (but rejected) for publication. Dýja has recently discovered a box containing her grandaunt’s papers. It is December, when there are only a few brief hours of daylight in this part of the world, and it seems to be a perfect time to analyze her grandaunt’s disjointed reflections on life, death, and human nature.
The novel does not follow a conventional format. There is a very slim storyline (I hesitate to call it a “plot”) that follows an approaching storm and a tourist staying in a nearby flat. It mostly relates Dýja’s thoughts as she attempts to make sense of her grandaunt’s rather disorganized collection. The writing is lyrical but not overly flowery. I think it needs to be consumed when the reader is in the mood for philosophical musings. It is a contemplative examination of birth, light, interconnectedness, motherhood, the search for meaning and the role of coincidence in life.
The novel does not follow a conventional format. There is a very slim storyline (I hesitate to call it a “plot”) that follows an approaching storm and a tourist staying in a nearby flat. It mostly relates Dýja’s thoughts as she attempts to make sense of her grandaunt’s rather disorganized collection. The writing is lyrical but not overly flowery. I think it needs to be consumed when the reader is in the mood for philosophical musings. It is a contemplative examination of birth, light, interconnectedness, motherhood, the search for meaning and the role of coincidence in life.
January 1, 2023
A meditative little book set in Iceland and told from the perspective of a midwife. It’s about life and death and nature and humans and animals. There is little or no plot, but rather little vignettes or musings that I enjoyed listening too well enough, but that, I fear, will ultimately prove to be quite forgettable. Reminded me a bit of Jackie Polzin or Jenny Offill.
Many thanks to Netgalley for an ARC.
Many thanks to Netgalley for an ARC.
January 10, 2026
Ovde su ujedinjene moje tri velike ljubavi: Island, priroda i književnost, ali tako da naslov namerno navodi na krivi trag. Ovo nije nikakav venac basni ili bestijarijum, nego roman o krhkosti života. A najviše od svega, roman o babicama. Da, babicama. O ženama koje su na samom početku sa nama, na početku početka.
Pripovedačicu Diju ne vezuje sam posao za baba tetku Fivu, već i posebna autorefleksija. Dija, koja, dakle, i sama radi kao babica, pronalazi niz rukopisa svoje baba tetke, koji plene neobičnošću i fragmentarnošću. Čini se da je Fiva želela da dođe do totaliteta, ali da joj je on iznova izmicao. Dija je tako neko ko nastavlja lanac požrtvovanosti, ali i neko ko se otkriva kroz figuru čitateljke. A čitalac ove knjige otkriva, tako, otkriva kako se može čitati i niz nedostupnih, fiktivnih rukopisa, čime se pravi zanimljiv splet.
Iako ovom romanu nedostaje dinamičnog pripovedanja, pojedini delovi plene lirizmom i zagledanošću ka velikim mislima. Ipak, nevolja je što su neke prilike propuštene i što ono što je moglo da bude krajnje uzbudljivo – a šta je uzbudljivije od razmišljanja o odnosu postojanja i nepostojanja – ostaje, ponegde, ograničeno na opšta mesta o superiornosti prirode nad čovekom. Srčano ću braniti svaki pokušaj kritike antropocentrizma u književnosti, ali naročito kad je on složeniji. Ovde, dakle, nisu problem ideje – a posebno bih istakao sjajan ekofeministički potencijal dela – već to što su one mogle da budu književno ubedljivije.
Jer, ako već govorimo o krhkosti života i tankoj granici između bivanja i nestanka, valja se setiti „Bele knjigeˮ Han Kang i videti kako to može izgledati daleko jače. Tako da tišina ječi i boli.
Ovde, doduše, ima i blagog humora, kao i nekih krajnje simpatičnih momenata usmerenih na jezik i popkulturu: od navođenja liste pesama koje u sebi imaju nešto vezano za porađanje, do pojmova vezanih za islandsku klimu, ali oni nisu dominantni.
A kad je već o babicama reč, setio sam se jednog islandskog dokumentarnog filma o bebama u bazenima. Zove se Dive: Rituals in Water. Ne bih se setio naslova da nije bilo pretraživača. To je bio zanimljiv film jer nije fokus bio samo na odrastanju i jednom ekscentričnom rešenju za razvoj beba, nego se bavio i poverenjem, pa i modernizacijom. To je takođe jedna od tema romana Ejdur Ave Olafsdotir – kako se vremena menjaju. I kako su nekad babice po najgorim vremenskim uslovima morale da pešače da bi nekome donele, a nekome spasile život.
Pripovedačicu Diju ne vezuje sam posao za baba tetku Fivu, već i posebna autorefleksija. Dija, koja, dakle, i sama radi kao babica, pronalazi niz rukopisa svoje baba tetke, koji plene neobičnošću i fragmentarnošću. Čini se da je Fiva želela da dođe do totaliteta, ali da joj je on iznova izmicao. Dija je tako neko ko nastavlja lanac požrtvovanosti, ali i neko ko se otkriva kroz figuru čitateljke. A čitalac ove knjige otkriva, tako, otkriva kako se može čitati i niz nedostupnih, fiktivnih rukopisa, čime se pravi zanimljiv splet.
Iako ovom romanu nedostaje dinamičnog pripovedanja, pojedini delovi plene lirizmom i zagledanošću ka velikim mislima. Ipak, nevolja je što su neke prilike propuštene i što ono što je moglo da bude krajnje uzbudljivo – a šta je uzbudljivije od razmišljanja o odnosu postojanja i nepostojanja – ostaje, ponegde, ograničeno na opšta mesta o superiornosti prirode nad čovekom. Srčano ću braniti svaki pokušaj kritike antropocentrizma u književnosti, ali naročito kad je on složeniji. Ovde, dakle, nisu problem ideje – a posebno bih istakao sjajan ekofeministički potencijal dela – već to što su one mogle da budu književno ubedljivije.
Jer, ako već govorimo o krhkosti života i tankoj granici između bivanja i nestanka, valja se setiti „Bele knjigeˮ Han Kang i videti kako to može izgledati daleko jače. Tako da tišina ječi i boli.
Ovde, doduše, ima i blagog humora, kao i nekih krajnje simpatičnih momenata usmerenih na jezik i popkulturu: od navođenja liste pesama koje u sebi imaju nešto vezano za porađanje, do pojmova vezanih za islandsku klimu, ali oni nisu dominantni.
A kad je već o babicama reč, setio sam se jednog islandskog dokumentarnog filma o bebama u bazenima. Zove se Dive: Rituals in Water. Ne bih se setio naslova da nije bilo pretraživača. To je bio zanimljiv film jer nije fokus bio samo na odrastanju i jednom ekscentričnom rešenju za razvoj beba, nego se bavio i poverenjem, pa i modernizacijom. To je takođe jedna od tema romana Ejdur Ave Olafsdotir – kako se vremena menjaju. I kako su nekad babice po najgorim vremenskim uslovima morale da pešače da bi nekome donele, a nekome spasile život.
January 29, 2024
أنتخب الأيسلنديون كلمة "قابلة" كأجمل كلمة في لغتهم الأمّ و التي تعني حرفيًا في الأيسلنديّة "أُمّ النور"
و بالنسبة لي أجمل كلمة في اللغة العربية كلمة "حُب"
رواية اليوم رواية إستثنائية و هي الرواية الأجمل التي قرأتها مؤخرًا من ضمن قراءاتي السابقة.
رواية بديعة،آسرة.
كُتبت بأسلوب رقيق ،فاتن
قد يغيب فيها عنصر الإثارة و التشويق و حتى الأحداث
هي تقريبًا سردية إلّا أن قراءتها خفيفة سلسة ،ممتعة متعة لا مثيل لها
تحكي الرواية عن قابلة وهي "المرأة التي تساعد في عملية ولادة الأطفال.
المرأة التي لها الفضل الكبير و التي يدين لها الكثير من الناس.
تتتبّع بطلة روايتنا مسار القابلات في عائلتها تحديدًا خالة والدتها التي كانت سببًا رئيسيًا في إختيارها أن تكون قابلة
من خلال مخطوطات تركتها بعد وفاتها مع الكثير من الأشياء التي تركتها.
لتجٍد فيها كل ما يخصّها.
عن مهنتها و
فلسفتها في الحياة و النور و الموت ،الوجود و العدم . والكثير من الأشياء.
الرواية تُعتبر فلسفية في تصنيفها.
قراءتي الأولى للكاتبة ولن تكون الأخيرة فسبق أن اقتنيت إحدى رواياتها بعنوان فندق الصمت
و قريبًا سأقرأها
فلقد أحببت أسلوب الكاتبة جدًا.
أنصح بها جدًا .
و بالنسبة لي أجمل كلمة في اللغة العربية كلمة "حُب"
رواية اليوم رواية إستثنائية و هي الرواية الأجمل التي قرأتها مؤخرًا من ضمن قراءاتي السابقة.
رواية بديعة،آسرة.
كُتبت بأسلوب رقيق ،فاتن
قد يغيب فيها عنصر الإثارة و التشويق و حتى الأحداث
هي تقريبًا سردية إلّا أن قراءتها خفيفة سلسة ،ممتعة متعة لا مثيل لها
تحكي الرواية عن قابلة وهي "المرأة التي تساعد في عملية ولادة الأطفال.
المرأة التي لها الفضل الكبير و التي يدين لها الكثير من الناس.
تتتبّع بطلة روايتنا مسار القابلات في عائلتها تحديدًا خالة والدتها التي كانت سببًا رئيسيًا في إختيارها أن تكون قابلة
من خلال مخطوطات تركتها بعد وفاتها مع الكثير من الأشياء التي تركتها.
لتجٍد فيها كل ما يخصّها.
عن مهنتها و
فلسفتها في الحياة و النور و الموت ،الوجود و العدم . والكثير من الأشياء.
الرواية تُعتبر فلسفية في تصنيفها.
قراءتي الأولى للكاتبة ولن تكون الأخيرة فسبق أن اقتنيت إحدى رواياتها بعنوان فندق الصمت
و قريبًا سأقرأها
فلقد أحببت أسلوب الكاتبة جدًا.
أنصح بها جدًا .
January 3, 2021
Þessi náði mér ekki. Ekki leiðinleg ... og þó. Ekki veit skemmtileg heldur. Auðvitað gífurlega fallegur texti, Auður Ava skrifar á alveg afskaplega fallegan hátt. Ég var hrifin af ákveðnum efnistökum en hún hélt mér ekki. Tók mig óvenju langan tíma að lesa miðað við lengd.
March 21, 2021
Dásamleg bók. Skrifuð á svo áreynslulausan máta að stundum leið mér eins og þræðirnir væru mínar eigin hugsanir. Ég er satt að segja uppnumin eftir lesturinn.
September 7, 2025
Découverte. Désarçonnante. Très différent des auteurs scandinaves que j'ai lus. Etrange narration des choses toutes simples du quotidien d'une sage-femme. Sorte de journal, décousu. Elle découvre, sans tout comprendre, un autre journal, des bribes plutôt, de sa grand-tante au même prénom et sage-femme elle aussi. Qui lui a légué la moitié de son appartement, j'avoue ne pas avoir compris le concept de ce partage!!! Très philosophe, la vieille femme, décédée à 93 ans, au terme d'une vie pleine d'avis surprenants, prophétiques souvent, et de questionnements. Sans aucune réponse...
Je ne me plongerai pas souvent dans ce genre de livre, où il ne se passe rien, hors le banal, souvent tenté de survoler des passages ennuyeux. Mais l'écriture, très simple aussi, comme la non-histoire, est séduisante, ciselée, écrite au présent, addition de petits épisodes mis bout à bout dans le désordre. D'une vie pourtant calme et paisible...
Je ne me plongerai pas souvent dans ce genre de livre, où il ne se passe rien, hors le banal, souvent tenté de survoler des passages ennuyeux. Mais l'écriture, très simple aussi, comme la non-histoire, est séduisante, ciselée, écrite au présent, addition de petits épisodes mis bout à bout dans le désordre. D'une vie pourtant calme et paisible...
January 2, 2022
Honnêtement, je ne sais pas si je recommanderais ce livre à personne! Le fil de récit, de l’aveu même de la narratrice, est un peu chaotique, prend une direction pour ensuite se diriger complètement ailleurs et ne jamais revenir en arrière. On ne s’attarde à rien, même après être entré.e de plain pied dans une situation et l’avoir décrite dans tous ses détails. C’est surtout l’écriture de cette autrice qui chaque fois me ravit. La narration est la plupart du temps au présent, s’investit totalement dans des moments précis. La lecture est alors forcément zen. Tout est toujours goûté et senti et rien n’est jamais insignifiant, malgré la durée éphémère des sujets abordés. Le calme domine aussi en toute situation. Ce qui miraculeusement me satisfait énormément!
January 8, 2022
Meraviglioso. Ólafsdóttir non mi delude mai. Ha sempre parole intense, storie che si intrecciano con eleganza e semplicità, donne protagoniste che sono isole e sono luce e sono universi.
Questa è la storia di due ostetriche, nipote e prozia ormai morta, e di come le parole della più anziana risuonano nella vita della più giovane.
C’è la luce, principalmente, ma ci sono anche la vita e la morte, le piante e gli animali, l’Islanda in tutta la sua potenza.
Questa è la storia di due ostetriche, nipote e prozia ormai morta, e di come le parole della più anziana risuonano nella vita della più giovane.
C’è la luce, principalmente, ma ci sono anche la vita e la morte, le piante e gli animali, l’Islanda in tutta la sua potenza.
February 15, 2024
El marketing no le hace ningún favor a esta novela. Menos mal que yo no me encontrado con su descripción del libro como “pícaro” hasta haberlo terminado porque si no, no lo hubiera empezado. En cambio la sinopsis que había ojeado si que me ha dado una idea mas clara de lo que esperar. Es precisamente la mención de Pascal la que me ha hecho acercarme y la que me ha dado algo que hasta ahora no tenía, una visión del pesimismo filosófico desde una perspectiva femenina y mas concretamente usando como elemento explorador de las ideas, sobre el concepto los daños que ocasiona la vida, la experiencia de las matronas.
Es un tanto caótico para mi gusto, pero no me molesta y lo que si me “molesta” que es el no caer en la desesperación total y ofrecer un rayo de luz, pues visto el titulo, me lo tengo merecido.
Es un tanto caótico para mi gusto, pero no me molesta y lo que si me “molesta” que es el no caer en la desesperación total y ofrecer un rayo de luz, pues visto el titulo, me lo tengo merecido.
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January 24, 2021Virkilega fallega skrifaður óður til íslenskrar náttúru og tungu.
December 8, 2022
Having never read this author before, I had no preconceived notions as to what I was about to read. What I discovered was a quirky, thoughtful little book rife with an almost poetic feel and imagery.
The protagonist, Dómhildur, has parents who are in the funeral business. So it would seem that her family welcome people to the world, and also, they usher them out of it.
Dómhildur is very close in age to her sister, and they are so similar in physical appearance that they are often mistaken for each other. Her sister, a meteorologist, warns her that a storm is imminent over Christmas. Dómhildur, who has no children or family of her own, always elects to work over Christmas - because babies are born no matter the season.
Dómhildur, is a midwife or ljósmóðir (mother of light). She comes from a long family history of midwifery, the most recent being her grandaunt, with whom she shares a name. Now, Dómhildur is living in her late grandaunt's apartment amongst all of her aunt's possessions. Though it has been 4 years since her grandaunt passed away, she has done nothing to erase her presence. Her clothes share space in the closet with her great aunt's clothes. The outdated wallpapers and furnishings are just as they were when the elder Dómhildur lived there. Most importantly though, are the unpublished manuscripts written by her grandaunt. Meandering, disjointed chapters that reflect on how everything in life is connected. How humans fit into the animal world and their relationship with animals. How man is fragile, yet he is destroying the planet.
The importance of light and darkness is a running theme throughout the story. Light being a scarce commodity in Iceland in winter. During the month of December Iceland gets only about three hours of daylight per day.
I feel I must warn potential readers that this storyline is not a linear one. The narrative goes off in tangents much as Dómhildur's grandaunt's stories would digress. Overall, an odd, though thought-provoking short novel with a strong environmental message.
The protagonist, Dómhildur, has parents who are in the funeral business. So it would seem that her family welcome people to the world, and also, they usher them out of it.
Dómhildur is very close in age to her sister, and they are so similar in physical appearance that they are often mistaken for each other. Her sister, a meteorologist, warns her that a storm is imminent over Christmas. Dómhildur, who has no children or family of her own, always elects to work over Christmas - because babies are born no matter the season.
Dómhildur, is a midwife or ljósmóðir (mother of light). She comes from a long family history of midwifery, the most recent being her grandaunt, with whom she shares a name. Now, Dómhildur is living in her late grandaunt's apartment amongst all of her aunt's possessions. Though it has been 4 years since her grandaunt passed away, she has done nothing to erase her presence. Her clothes share space in the closet with her great aunt's clothes. The outdated wallpapers and furnishings are just as they were when the elder Dómhildur lived there. Most importantly though, are the unpublished manuscripts written by her grandaunt. Meandering, disjointed chapters that reflect on how everything in life is connected. How humans fit into the animal world and their relationship with animals. How man is fragile, yet he is destroying the planet.
The importance of light and darkness is a running theme throughout the story. Light being a scarce commodity in Iceland in winter. During the month of December Iceland gets only about three hours of daylight per day.
I feel I must warn potential readers that this storyline is not a linear one. The narrative goes off in tangents much as Dómhildur's grandaunt's stories would digress. Overall, an odd, though thought-provoking short novel with a strong environmental message.
January 17, 2022
Probablement le Olafsdottir le plus étrange dans sa forme. Je lui ai préféré Miss Islande, plus conventionnel sur le plan narratif. J'ai tout de même passé un bon moment. On y retrouve tout ce qui fait la marque de l'autrice, savant mélange d'inusité et de quotidien, de réflexions sur la nature humaine, ce qui peine à s'accomplir, et à s'achever.
July 21, 2024
Les parts centrades en les llevadores i les diferències entre l'actualitat i fa uns anys em van interessar molt, la veritat, però en general no és un llibre que m'hagi apassionat d'una manera especial. M'ha agradat, però sense més.
December 6, 2022
inherits from her great aunt (referred to as her grandaunt) the book is a kind of literary scrapbook made up of random thoughts on a vast variety of subjects. It becomes clear that Dómhildur’s great aunt had an interest – some might consider to the point of obsessional – in many different subjects and in gathering information about topics ranging from the lifespan of an oak tree to the nature of black holes. In letters exchanged with a pen pal over the course of forty years she also speculated on the fragility of human life and the nature of conicidence, including the coincidences necessary to bring about the birth of any child.
Amongst the many, many themes explored in the book is inheritance. Not only has Dómhildur followed in the footsteps of her great aunt and other members of her family in becoming a midwife but she has also inherited her great aunt’s apartment complete with an array of mismatched and rather outdated furniture which, for a long time, she feels disinclined to change.
Another theme the book explores is light and darkness – in both an actual and metaphorical sense. For instance, the book is set during the darkest part of the year when in Iceland there are only a few hours of daylight. ‘I wake up on the shortest day of the year into the longest night of time. It will be a long time before the light dissolves the night and the world takes on a form.’ We also discover that darkness is something Dómhildur knows all about both in her personal and in her professional life. On the other hand, the Icelandic word for midwife is ljósmóðir which literally translates as ‘mother of light’.
There’s also a strong theme of environmentalism running through the book. In this respect, Dómhildur’s great aunt was something of a pioneer writing of the deleterious impact of humans – ‘the most dangerous animal of them all’ – on the planet.
If this all sounds a little serious, there are moments of humour too. For example, the calls Dómhildur receives from her sister which invariably open with the questions ‘where are you and what are you doing’ and are always followed by a close interrogation of her answers. Light relief (see what I did there?) is also provided by the tourist who takes up temporary residence on the top floor of Dómhildur’s apartment building and has chosen a particularly inappropriate time to go sightseeing in Iceland, by the electrician who is afraid of the dark, and by Dómhildur’s unsuccessful stint as a tour guide.
At one point Dómhildur muses, ‘The more I try to piece the jigsaw of my grandaunt’s life together the more questions it raises’. The fluid, fragmentary structure of Animal Life means it won’t appeal to everyone but those who are attracted by a book which explores a range of topics will, I think, find it a thought-provoking read.
Amongst the many, many themes explored in the book is inheritance. Not only has Dómhildur followed in the footsteps of her great aunt and other members of her family in becoming a midwife but she has also inherited her great aunt’s apartment complete with an array of mismatched and rather outdated furniture which, for a long time, she feels disinclined to change.
Another theme the book explores is light and darkness – in both an actual and metaphorical sense. For instance, the book is set during the darkest part of the year when in Iceland there are only a few hours of daylight. ‘I wake up on the shortest day of the year into the longest night of time. It will be a long time before the light dissolves the night and the world takes on a form.’ We also discover that darkness is something Dómhildur knows all about both in her personal and in her professional life. On the other hand, the Icelandic word for midwife is ljósmóðir which literally translates as ‘mother of light’.
There’s also a strong theme of environmentalism running through the book. In this respect, Dómhildur’s great aunt was something of a pioneer writing of the deleterious impact of humans – ‘the most dangerous animal of them all’ – on the planet.
If this all sounds a little serious, there are moments of humour too. For example, the calls Dómhildur receives from her sister which invariably open with the questions ‘where are you and what are you doing’ and are always followed by a close interrogation of her answers. Light relief (see what I did there?) is also provided by the tourist who takes up temporary residence on the top floor of Dómhildur’s apartment building and has chosen a particularly inappropriate time to go sightseeing in Iceland, by the electrician who is afraid of the dark, and by Dómhildur’s unsuccessful stint as a tour guide.
At one point Dómhildur muses, ‘The more I try to piece the jigsaw of my grandaunt’s life together the more questions it raises’. The fluid, fragmentary structure of Animal Life means it won’t appeal to everyone but those who are attracted by a book which explores a range of topics will, I think, find it a thought-provoking read.
December 14, 2022
Icelandic author Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir was familiar to me from Butterflies in November (2013), a whimsical, feminist road trip novel I reviewed for For Books’ Sake. Dómhildur or “Dýja” is, like her grandaunt before her, a midwife – a word that was once voted Iceland’s most beautiful: ljósmóðir combines the words for light and mother, so it connotes “mother of light.” On the other side of the family, Dýja’s relatives are undertakers, a neat setup that sees her clan “handling people at their points of entry and exit.”
Along with her profession, Dýja inherited her great-aunt’s apartment, nine bottles of sherry, pen pal letters to a Welsh midwife and a box containing several discursive manuscripts of philosophical musings, one of them entitled Animal Life. In fragments from this book within the book, we see how her grandaunt recorded philosophical musings about coincidences and humanity in relation to other species, vacillating between the poetic and the scientific.
As Christmas – and an unprecedented storm prophesied by her meteorologist sister – approaches, Dýja starts to make the apartment less of a mausoleum and more her own home, trading lots of the fusty furniture for a colleague’s help with painting and decorating, and flirting with an Australian tourist who’s staying in the apartment upstairs. Outside of work she has never had much of a personal life, so she’s finally finding a better balance.
I really warmed to the grandaunt character and enjoyed the peppering of her aphorisms. As in novels like The Birth House and A Ghost in the Throat, it feels like this is a female wisdom, somewhat forbidden and witchy. The idea of it being passed down through the generations is appealing. We get less of a sense of Dýja overall, only late on finding that she has her own traumatic backstory. For a first-person narrator, she’s lacking the expected interiority. Mostly, we see her interactions with a random selection of minor characters such as an electrician whose wife is experiencing postpartum depression.
I felt there were a few too many disparate elements here, not all joined but just left on the page as a quirky smorgasbord. Still, it’s fun to try fiction in translation sometimes, especially when it’s of novella length. This also reminded me a bit of Weather and Brood.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
Along with her profession, Dýja inherited her great-aunt’s apartment, nine bottles of sherry, pen pal letters to a Welsh midwife and a box containing several discursive manuscripts of philosophical musings, one of them entitled Animal Life. In fragments from this book within the book, we see how her grandaunt recorded philosophical musings about coincidences and humanity in relation to other species, vacillating between the poetic and the scientific.
As Christmas – and an unprecedented storm prophesied by her meteorologist sister – approaches, Dýja starts to make the apartment less of a mausoleum and more her own home, trading lots of the fusty furniture for a colleague’s help with painting and decorating, and flirting with an Australian tourist who’s staying in the apartment upstairs. Outside of work she has never had much of a personal life, so she’s finally finding a better balance.
I really warmed to the grandaunt character and enjoyed the peppering of her aphorisms. As in novels like The Birth House and A Ghost in the Throat, it feels like this is a female wisdom, somewhat forbidden and witchy. The idea of it being passed down through the generations is appealing. We get less of a sense of Dýja overall, only late on finding that she has her own traumatic backstory. For a first-person narrator, she’s lacking the expected interiority. Mostly, we see her interactions with a random selection of minor characters such as an electrician whose wife is experiencing postpartum depression.
I felt there were a few too many disparate elements here, not all joined but just left on the page as a quirky smorgasbord. Still, it’s fun to try fiction in translation sometimes, especially when it’s of novella length. This also reminded me a bit of Weather and Brood.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
December 22, 2022
Dýja is an Icelandic midwife with experience. Not only were her female ancestors midwives, but, in the run up to Christmas, with a fierce Atlantic storm about to hit, she will deliver her 1,922nd baby.
But midwifery, which is to the forefront in the initial part of the novel, shuffles into the background as the book continues. It becomes a metaphor for Ólafsdóttir to reflect on the the precariousness and harshness of life on the planet.
Dýja receives blow-by-blow details of the approaching storm from her sister who is a meteorologist, as the whole country fears its arrival. Not many years ago this may be looked at as a dystopian scenario, but now, a population terror-stricken by an approaching storm is a relatively common event.
Dýja lives in an apartment she has inherited from grandaunt Fífa. Fifa died at 93, four years before the novel begins. She was an envionmentalist and wrote three manuscripts, which Dýja discovers and tries to make sense of; they concern animal life and extinction due to climate change, and the history of midwifery.
When all strands come together, and with a particularly powerful final page, there is much to admire in this novel.. but, with so much going on, the ingenuity comes at a cost, the key characters are hard to warm to, they, and other of the human aspects, are emotionally quite bleak.
But midwifery, which is to the forefront in the initial part of the novel, shuffles into the background as the book continues. It becomes a metaphor for Ólafsdóttir to reflect on the the precariousness and harshness of life on the planet.
Dýja receives blow-by-blow details of the approaching storm from her sister who is a meteorologist, as the whole country fears its arrival. Not many years ago this may be looked at as a dystopian scenario, but now, a population terror-stricken by an approaching storm is a relatively common event.
Dýja lives in an apartment she has inherited from grandaunt Fífa. Fifa died at 93, four years before the novel begins. She was an envionmentalist and wrote three manuscripts, which Dýja discovers and tries to make sense of; they concern animal life and extinction due to climate change, and the history of midwifery.
When all strands come together, and with a particularly powerful final page, there is much to admire in this novel.. but, with so much going on, the ingenuity comes at a cost, the key characters are hard to warm to, they, and other of the human aspects, are emotionally quite bleak.
January 14, 2021
Mér þótti aðeins of mikill galsi í byrjuninni. Ég skil tilgang formleysisins og að það sé í sjálfu sér þema, en finnst þrátt fyrir það að það hefði getað verið meira jafnvægi milli athugana og frásagnarinnar. Annars var ég hrifin af síðustu köflunum og klökknaði mörgum sinnum. Alveg þess virði að lesa, þó fyrstu kaflarnir virki hálfkláraðir.
January 4, 2021
Fannst myndmálið pínu ofhlaðið fyrir minn smekk svona framan af en svo er síðasti þriðjungur bókarinnar svo flottur að ég er alveg tilbúin að gleyma því.
March 10, 2024
3.5 stars rounded down
January 3, 2023
Award winning Scandinavian author, Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir, writes a breathtakingly beautiful little novel that reflects on midwifery, family, nature, and finding the light. Dómhildur is a midwife, continuing a long family tradition of helping bring life into the world. Her great-aunt was so proud of her that she bequeathed Dómhildurher her apartment in Reykjavík after her death. As Christmas approaches, so too does the winter forecast worsen. While Dómhildurher rummages through her aunt’s things looking for Christmas décor and she stumbles across a box full of manuscripts, editorials, postcards, and letters. Within the pages is mix of musings on animal life, midwifery practices over the past century, and the reflections of her great-aunt. Ann Richardson narrates with a slow steady cadence, that eases readers into the poetic Icelandic prose. While not “plot heavy,” the impending Christmas storm serves as a dark backdrop for the light found within the pages. For fans of Scandinavian literature.
December 17, 2022
For me reading is a way to lose myself, to inhabit new people and places. This beautiful book is unique in that it really doesn’t have a plot as such. It is more musings on life, death, the world we inhabit and the light and dark of it all.
Enticing you into its pages the voices of both Dómhilder and her grand aunt whisk you away to the maternity ward. It is utterly captivating and beautifully eloquent.
It imparts wisdom on the impact of humans to the animal kingdom with an environmental message drifting through the pages like the northern lights drift through the dark sky.
Animal life is a book to appreciate for its poetic nature and in a place that gets little daylight who better to narrate than someone whose job title literally means mother and light. So if you are looking for something a little different then I suggest giving this book a try. It really is rather special for all its oddity.
Enticing you into its pages the voices of both Dómhilder and her grand aunt whisk you away to the maternity ward. It is utterly captivating and beautifully eloquent.
It imparts wisdom on the impact of humans to the animal kingdom with an environmental message drifting through the pages like the northern lights drift through the dark sky.
Animal life is a book to appreciate for its poetic nature and in a place that gets little daylight who better to narrate than someone whose job title literally means mother and light. So if you are looking for something a little different then I suggest giving this book a try. It really is rather special for all its oddity.
September 10, 2022
Set in Iceland this is a novel told by a midwife. It considers light in life in many ways and I’m not sure how to interpret the story. It is beautifully written and thought-provoking. It seems to have no climax, and yet I enjoyed it. Would I recommend it…I’m not sure. Some people will love it but I do think many won’t. However, I do think it is a great book for a book club to read or a class to discuss. It is a piece of literature that needs to be mulled over and possibly reread to completely understand and enjoy it.
August 7, 2024
يمكنك قراءة النص بأريحية تامة فهي نوع من التجليات اللا متجانسة بذلك النوع الذي يكتب بحس معنوي فيه تواءم روحي عالي أكثر من كونه نص يعتمد على قانون نصية لكتابة رواية
لسان القابلة التي تستقبل الوليد عند مجيئه للحياة حديث مطول عن هشاشة الكائن البشري المسمى بلانسان أمام نظراؤه من المخلوقات ... ممتعة
لسان القابلة التي تستقبل الوليد عند مجيئه للحياة حديث مطول عن هشاشة الكائن البشري المسمى بلانسان أمام نظراؤه من المخلوقات ... ممتعة
July 23, 2022
A strange, soothing book which contemplates life and death through the quiet eyes of a family of Icelandic midwives and morticians. One of those small stories that manages to feel very big indeed.
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