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A spikily funny, startlingly perceptive and beautifully written novel about modern life by the brightest light in Danish fiction
Sonja's over forty, and she's trying to move in the right direction. She's learning to drive. She's joined a meditation group. And she's attempting to reconnect with her sister.
But Sonja would rather eat cake than meditate.
Her driving instructor won't let her change gear.
And her sister won't return her calls.
Sonja's mind keeps wandering back to the dramatic landscapes of her childhood - the singing whooper swans, the endless sky, and getting lost barefoot in the rye fields - but how can she return to a place that she no longer recognizes? And how can she escape the alienating streets of Copenhagen?
Mirror, Shoulder, Signal is a poignant, sharp-witted tale of one woman's journey in search of herself when there's no one to ask for directions.
172 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 2, 2016
Kate got everything she wanted Sonja thinks And in the order she wanted it. Kate’s never colored outside the lines
In many ways thinks Sonja Mum did me a diservice in believing I could just be myself. If I hadn’t been allowed to, then I’d be sitting here right now with the whole package, but that train’s left the station. And if anyone does, Mum should know that you have to adapt if you’re going to entangle yourself in an intimate relationship.
write books about middle-aged, childless women on the brink of disappearing—or you could say—on the brink of losing their license to live. If a woman has kids, she will always be a mother, but a woman who has chosen not to procreate and who now no longer is young and sexy is perceived by many as a pointless being.
“Can't you try and translate other authors?" asks Molly. "Some that mean something"
If the panoramic experience of nature can be compared to drugs, then this is a wad of used nicotine gum.Somehow, at some point, my own city is dragged into the proceedings:
A trace of incense is clinging to her, but it might as well be Magic Tree air freshener, bad cologne, a backseat blanket and gunk between her thighs. San Diego?Not only is this a very personal story, but it has as its backdrop the discomfort felt by rural Danes when confronted with the mean streets of Copenhagen. American readers who have spent any time in this clean, cold, endlessly polite city may be baffled by the references to relentless noise and confusion. But Nors is simply describing things from her own point of view -- she grew up on a farm far from towns of any size at all, and she has lovely expressions like "the cow would no longer be out on the ice" to describe a bad situation being defused. And she knows stuff like
There are hairdressers there who sell farmers the hair they cut from the locals. Then the farmers put the hair in potato sacks and hang them on fence posts by the exclosures. Because human hair scares off deer. They don't like the smell.Three stars or four? I enjoyed it, but it seemed almost like putting a camera in somebody's living room without their knowledge. Fun, maybe, but of the queasy sort. And if I hadn't read her excellent memoir first, I might be wondering who this woman is, and why I should care about her problems. But I know what she can do with her art, and I found myself caring very much.
