Indian Summer by Jens Christian Grøndahl
During a reception on the occasion of the reissue of his debut novel, the writer August meets his great childhood sweetheart, the photographer Alma. This unleashes a flood of memories in him: his stormy infatuation, his despair when Alma left him for his friend, the painter Gustav his time with Harriet, who eventually also left him. And especially his resignation as a grown man. The passion between August and Alma blossoms again, but when she finds out that Gustav is dying, she leaves August again for Gustav. Indian summer is a novel about love and infatuation, carried by the beautiful style of Jens Christian Grøndahl.
While the novel's plot is all too reminiscent of numerous popular novels and films in which three people learn the hardships of life and love, the quality of the writing lifts it out of the realms of banality. The beautifully controlled pages, whose clipped, short sentences and deliberate use of understatement and the richly sensual descriptions of places, food, and sex, Grøndahls use of language is never less than sure. One of Grøndahls recurring quirks is to resist, in his phrasing, the conventional attribution of cause and effect.
So much more is made up of memory and introspection than action that the transitions back to the present tense are sometimes awkward. Around the three-quarters mark, the book converges on the more standard territory of the novel of adultery, without ever quite sacrificing its analytical intensity. There is no shortage of details, evocations of mood and sensation, but Grøndahl seems most in his element extrapolating from them. Perhaps it is only a northern-European Protestant tradition of self-scrutiny - the tradition which threw up Denmark's proto-existentialist theologian Kierkegaard. In the end it is perhaps all a little to beautiful and perfectly written, it sorts of drains the life from the novel.