What do you think?
Rate this book
Ankomst
Seabirds in northern Norway share the parenting of chicks equally. Even in the twenty-four-hour darkness of winter they care for their young together. Among these birds a research scientist makes her home in an abandoned fisherman's hut. Surrounded by nature, she observes the birds for her PhD and waits for her lover to arrive. As the days pass, secrets of the cabin's past are revealed: a mysterious fire; a tragedy from generations long ago; a child who waits for their mother to return. Perhaps what comes naturally for seabirds is not always so natural to us...
187 pages, Paperback
Published June 30, 2020
11 people are currently reading
869 people want to read
About the author
Gøhril Gabrielsen
9 books6 followersGøhril Jeanne Gabrielsen (born 14 January 1961) is a Norwegian writer. She grew up in Finnmark, but now lives in Oslo. Gabrielsen's debut novel Unevnelige hendelser (Unspeakable Events) came out in 2006 and was well received by critics, winning Aschehoug’s First Book Award. She has published several other novels, including Svimlende muligheter, ingen frykt (The Looking-Glass Sisters) and Skadedyr (Vermin). The Looking-Glass Sisters has been released in English translation by Peirene Press.
(from Wikipedia)
(from Wikipedia)
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 29 of 60 reviews
May 17, 2020
Ankomst has been translated by Deborah Dawkin from Gøhril Gabrielsen's 2017's Norwegian original, and published by the wonderful small independent Peirene Press as part of their rather-neatly timed Closed Universe series of books in 2020.
Both author and translator are new to me but Peirene prevoiusly published the author's The Looking-Glass Sisters in John Irons' translatoin and Dawkin translated, amongst others, The Bell in the Lake from Lars Mytting and The Blue Room from Hanne Ørstavik.
The novel is narrated by a research biologist in her mid 30s and as the story opens she has been dropped off by a local ship captain, in early January, in a remote location inside the Arctic Circle, where she will stay for several months, initially alone.
A jeg så lysene fra båten forsvinne i mørket bak odden, var isolasjonen fra omverden en uomtvistelig realitet.
As I watched the lights from his boat vanish into the darkness behind the headland, my isolation from the outside world became an unarguable reality.
Her research aim is to measure the weather patterns in the area to better understand the impact of climate on migratory seabirds. But one immediately gets a sense that this activity, while clearly of key scientific importance, also represents a form of displacement:
I feel a tingle of joy at the concrete nature of the task I have set myself, the hard facts that will now be my focus. Diagrams, rising and falling columns, units, measurements in hectopascals, metres per second, percentages and degrees Celsius. Clear and measurable phenomena are what I want. The language of indisputable realities, rather than dumb, undefinable feelings.
...
That is why I have cut loose, abandoned everything else for now, because the mapping of these meteorological parameters over a longer period will make a meaningful difference. I have told myself this so many times that I know it to be the truth.
We soon learn that a year ago she told her husband that she wanted a divorce, to which he reacted, at least in her account, with hostility even violence. She has come here, as well, to get away from him, leaving her three-year old daughter in his custody. And ,unknown to him, she hopes to be joined by her lover, himself divorced four-years earlier and with a young daughter. But her lover seems more reluctant to leave his daughter in his ex-wife's custody, and his trip to join her is repeatedly postponed:
He has to be more direct, show some grit, some sense of solidarity. After all, I’ve made the choice he is hesitating to make.
The novel weaves in some evocative descriptions of nature, and the collaborative parenting behaviour of the bird species (see e.g. https://cosmosmagazine.com/biology/lo...) provides a contrast to her own troubled ex-family; the research behind her scientific thoughts is sufficiently convincing that I've seen reviews suggesting it is perhaps too dry and detailed, although I wouldn't agree as it creates both a convincing character and a contrast to her more emotional imaginings.
She is staying in a former fisherman's hut, but while studying a history brochure left on the shelves she learns that in 1870 a house on the same site, occupied by a fisherman, his wife and their six children, a family engaged in a ceaseless struggle in infinite darkness at the furthest edge of the world, burned down in an accident, the youngest, a boy, dying in the fire. The brochure suggests a further tragedy occurred a year later, although it doesn't expand on this.
Lacking the anticipated company, her communication with others is limited to periodic Skype calls with her lover, threatening texts from her former husband and occasional visits from the ship's captain, who seems to be reporting back to her ex. Instead she becomes haunted with imagining exactly what happened in 1870 and how they would have felt, constructing a story that the mother was at fault, and the father of the family never forgave her for the loss of his only son, and then imputing the guilt as her own:
Was that how it was?
I am spinning a story out of thin air and my own experiences. Am I stretching it too far?
And as the novel draws to a close she senses she has a visitor - but is it the long-anticipated and much-postponed visit from her lover, the ship's captain returning outside his schedule, her ex-husband enacting his threatened revenge, or even the ghost of the bereaved father from the 19th century?
Quietly impressive.
Both author and translator are new to me but Peirene prevoiusly published the author's The Looking-Glass Sisters in John Irons' translatoin and Dawkin translated, amongst others, The Bell in the Lake from Lars Mytting and The Blue Room from Hanne Ørstavik.
The novel is narrated by a research biologist in her mid 30s and as the story opens she has been dropped off by a local ship captain, in early January, in a remote location inside the Arctic Circle, where she will stay for several months, initially alone.
A jeg så lysene fra båten forsvinne i mørket bak odden, var isolasjonen fra omverden en uomtvistelig realitet.
As I watched the lights from his boat vanish into the darkness behind the headland, my isolation from the outside world became an unarguable reality.
Her research aim is to measure the weather patterns in the area to better understand the impact of climate on migratory seabirds. But one immediately gets a sense that this activity, while clearly of key scientific importance, also represents a form of displacement:
I feel a tingle of joy at the concrete nature of the task I have set myself, the hard facts that will now be my focus. Diagrams, rising and falling columns, units, measurements in hectopascals, metres per second, percentages and degrees Celsius. Clear and measurable phenomena are what I want. The language of indisputable realities, rather than dumb, undefinable feelings.
...
That is why I have cut loose, abandoned everything else for now, because the mapping of these meteorological parameters over a longer period will make a meaningful difference. I have told myself this so many times that I know it to be the truth.
We soon learn that a year ago she told her husband that she wanted a divorce, to which he reacted, at least in her account, with hostility even violence. She has come here, as well, to get away from him, leaving her three-year old daughter in his custody. And ,unknown to him, she hopes to be joined by her lover, himself divorced four-years earlier and with a young daughter. But her lover seems more reluctant to leave his daughter in his ex-wife's custody, and his trip to join her is repeatedly postponed:
He has to be more direct, show some grit, some sense of solidarity. After all, I’ve made the choice he is hesitating to make.
The novel weaves in some evocative descriptions of nature, and the collaborative parenting behaviour of the bird species (see e.g. https://cosmosmagazine.com/biology/lo...) provides a contrast to her own troubled ex-family; the research behind her scientific thoughts is sufficiently convincing that I've seen reviews suggesting it is perhaps too dry and detailed, although I wouldn't agree as it creates both a convincing character and a contrast to her more emotional imaginings.
She is staying in a former fisherman's hut, but while studying a history brochure left on the shelves she learns that in 1870 a house on the same site, occupied by a fisherman, his wife and their six children, a family engaged in a ceaseless struggle in infinite darkness at the furthest edge of the world, burned down in an accident, the youngest, a boy, dying in the fire. The brochure suggests a further tragedy occurred a year later, although it doesn't expand on this.
Lacking the anticipated company, her communication with others is limited to periodic Skype calls with her lover, threatening texts from her former husband and occasional visits from the ship's captain, who seems to be reporting back to her ex. Instead she becomes haunted with imagining exactly what happened in 1870 and how they would have felt, constructing a story that the mother was at fault, and the father of the family never forgave her for the loss of his only son, and then imputing the guilt as her own:
Was that how it was?
I am spinning a story out of thin air and my own experiences. Am I stretching it too far?
And as the novel draws to a close she senses she has a visitor - but is it the long-anticipated and much-postponed visit from her lover, the ship's captain returning outside his schedule, her ex-husband enacting his threatened revenge, or even the ghost of the bereaved father from the 19th century?
Quietly impressive.
January 13, 2020
Sicher etwas für Leser die sich für Psychologie interessieren,
für mich war es leider definitiv nichts.
für mich war es leider definitiv nichts.
January 12, 2021
Atmosphärisch dichtes Psychodrama in der Einsamkeit Nordnorwegens. Winter, Dunkelheit, Isolation – eine Forscherin auf der Flucht vor den Dämonen ihrer Vergangenheit. Doch der Sprung in die Freiheit wird zur radikalen Auseinandersetzung mit den eigenen Abgründen. So diffus wie das polare Zwielicht, verschwimmt allmählich die Grenze zwischen Wahn und Wirklichkeit. Vor allem die Kulisse aus rauer Natur und schroffer Landschaft macht den besonderen Reiz der Geschichte aus.
December 27, 2024
Gøhril Gabrielsens “Die Einsamkeit der Seevögel” verspricht in Titel und Klapptentext eine eindrucksvolle metaphorische Verbindung zwischen Natur und menschlicher Isolation, vermag diese jedoch kaum einzulösen. Der Roman greift mehrere gewichtige Themen auf, darunter sexualisierte Gewalt, Manipulation, die fragile Mutter-Kind-Beziehung, sowie ökologische Zerbrechlichkeit sowie diejenige der neuen Beziehung – und bleibt dabei doch oberflächlich und zerfahren.
Bereits die Erzählweise ist teils überbordend und schwer zugänglich. Ein Eindruck, der durch Passagen wie die folgende verstärkt wird:
»Die Nachricht verschwindet. Ich sehe die Wörter vor mir: Zerstückelt, in unkenntliche Ziffern und Zeichen zerlegt, steigen sie zwischen den Schneeflocken auf, gleiten durch eine Wolkenlücke und weiter in den Satellitenhimmel, finden ihren Stern, der die Nachricht mit einem Blinken wieder zur Erde sendet.«
Die Naturbilder, die Gabrielsen heraufbeschwören möchte, wirken zwar bildreich, doch wie in diesem Beispiel oft schwülstig und weitaus mehr esoterisch als bedeutungsvoll. Statt mit sprachlicher Präzision zu überzeugen, verliert sich der Text im Nebel symbolischer Überladung, ohne klare Spuren für den Leser zu hinterlassen.
Dabei hätte es durchaus Potential gegeben. Gabrielsen versucht sich an historischen Einsprengseln aus dem 19. Jahrhundert, jedoch fügen sich diese nicht organisch in die Gegenwartserzählung ein und fühlen sich „dahinfantasiert“ an. Die Vorstellung, wie Isolation und Naturgewalt den Verstand verzehren können, erinnert an Werke wie Emily Brontës “Sturmhöhe”: Die harschen Moorlandschaften und das erdrückende Gefühl der Einsamkeit dienen nicht nur als Schauplatz, sondern auch als Spiegel der psychischen Zustände der Charaktere. Während Gabrielsen dies eher bruchstückhaft inszeniert, liefert Brontë ein kohärentes Zusammenspiel zwischen Mensch und Natur, das die mentale Zerbrechlichkeit in Extremsituationen (obschon anderer Natur) weitaus greifbarer macht. Doch die emotionale Tiefe und Symbolkraft jener Geschichte wird von Gabrielsen nicht erreicht.
Die vielfältigen, verstreuten und unverarbeiteten Ansätze Gabrielsens haben zumindest mich unbefriedigt zurückgelassen. Viel Potential hatte diese Novelle, aber leider wird es vollständig verschenkt. Schade!
Einer von fünf Sternen.
Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Mastodon | Instagram | Pinterest | Medium | Matrix | Tumblr
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
Bereits die Erzählweise ist teils überbordend und schwer zugänglich. Ein Eindruck, der durch Passagen wie die folgende verstärkt wird:
»Die Nachricht verschwindet. Ich sehe die Wörter vor mir: Zerstückelt, in unkenntliche Ziffern und Zeichen zerlegt, steigen sie zwischen den Schneeflocken auf, gleiten durch eine Wolkenlücke und weiter in den Satellitenhimmel, finden ihren Stern, der die Nachricht mit einem Blinken wieder zur Erde sendet.«
Die Naturbilder, die Gabrielsen heraufbeschwören möchte, wirken zwar bildreich, doch wie in diesem Beispiel oft schwülstig und weitaus mehr esoterisch als bedeutungsvoll. Statt mit sprachlicher Präzision zu überzeugen, verliert sich der Text im Nebel symbolischer Überladung, ohne klare Spuren für den Leser zu hinterlassen.
Dabei hätte es durchaus Potential gegeben. Gabrielsen versucht sich an historischen Einsprengseln aus dem 19. Jahrhundert, jedoch fügen sich diese nicht organisch in die Gegenwartserzählung ein und fühlen sich „dahinfantasiert“ an. Die Vorstellung, wie Isolation und Naturgewalt den Verstand verzehren können, erinnert an Werke wie Emily Brontës “Sturmhöhe”: Die harschen Moorlandschaften und das erdrückende Gefühl der Einsamkeit dienen nicht nur als Schauplatz, sondern auch als Spiegel der psychischen Zustände der Charaktere. Während Gabrielsen dies eher bruchstückhaft inszeniert, liefert Brontë ein kohärentes Zusammenspiel zwischen Mensch und Natur, das die mentale Zerbrechlichkeit in Extremsituationen (obschon anderer Natur) weitaus greifbarer macht. Doch die emotionale Tiefe und Symbolkraft jener Geschichte wird von Gabrielsen nicht erreicht.
Die vielfältigen, verstreuten und unverarbeiteten Ansätze Gabrielsens haben zumindest mich unbefriedigt zurückgelassen. Viel Potential hatte diese Novelle, aber leider wird es vollständig verschenkt. Schade!
Einer von fünf Sternen.
Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Mastodon | Instagram | Pinterest | Medium | Matrix | Tumblr
Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam
abgebrochen
August 10, 2024Bei 18 % ausgestiegen
Ich versuche gerade Hörbücher verstärkt zu forcieren.
Nee das läuft so gar nicht.
Setting ist hier für mich an sich sehr interessant. Kälte, Einsamkeit, Natur, Widrigkeiten. Allerdings ist die stilistische Umsetzung ein Graus.
Typisches Klischee einer Wissenschaftlerin, die sich wünscht, dass auch Gefühle messbar seien. Ihre geliebte Objektivität.
Dazu ein Liebeswirrwarr, das im Versuch das Imaginäre einzubauen, kläglich scheitert, weil sie viel zu stark im Symbolischen verhaftet bleibt.
Das Buch beinhaltet zwar eine gewisse Atmosphäre, die aber durch die steife, unbewegliche Art der Icherzählerin eingerissen wird.
Es arbeitet sich an Erwartungshaltungen ab und wirkt in seiner Art des Erzählens extrem reduktionistisch.
Eine Form der Ratio die ich ablehne und die durch die stilistische dokumentarische Sprache nur verstärkt wird.
Die Sprache bewegt sich überhaupt nicht. Sie geht völlig konform mit der Steifheit der Icherzählerin.
Da hab ich nichts von. Zumal mich dieser Beziehungskäse, wie er inszeniert wird, überhaupt nicht interessiert.
Ich versuche gerade Hörbücher verstärkt zu forcieren.
Nee das läuft so gar nicht.
Setting ist hier für mich an sich sehr interessant. Kälte, Einsamkeit, Natur, Widrigkeiten. Allerdings ist die stilistische Umsetzung ein Graus.
Typisches Klischee einer Wissenschaftlerin, die sich wünscht, dass auch Gefühle messbar seien. Ihre geliebte Objektivität.
Dazu ein Liebeswirrwarr, das im Versuch das Imaginäre einzubauen, kläglich scheitert, weil sie viel zu stark im Symbolischen verhaftet bleibt.
Das Buch beinhaltet zwar eine gewisse Atmosphäre, die aber durch die steife, unbewegliche Art der Icherzählerin eingerissen wird.
Es arbeitet sich an Erwartungshaltungen ab und wirkt in seiner Art des Erzählens extrem reduktionistisch.
Eine Form der Ratio die ich ablehne und die durch die stilistische dokumentarische Sprache nur verstärkt wird.
Die Sprache bewegt sich überhaupt nicht. Sie geht völlig konform mit der Steifheit der Icherzählerin.
Da hab ich nichts von. Zumal mich dieser Beziehungskäse, wie er inszeniert wird, überhaupt nicht interessiert.
August 7, 2020
I preferred this to Gøhril's last book from Peirene - The Looking Glass Sisters - for a lot of reasons. The strength of her books indubitably lies with her protagonists and this woman surviving isolation in the name of science is vibrant and all too relatable right now. The adversity she faces is against nature but also in memory now, interspersed between data recordings and a day to day life. Man versus nature and man versus self is one of the oldest themes in the book (literally) and I'm here for it.
This book is a story of twos - her and S, her and Jo, her and Lina, Jo and Maria, her and nature, Borghild and Olaf, her and Borghild. Paralleled stories that nearly intersected again and again and again, all in isolation. I could write a dissertation on this book.
(Was that review nonsensical? Probably)
This book is a story of twos - her and S, her and Jo, her and Lina, Jo and Maria, her and nature, Borghild and Olaf, her and Borghild. Paralleled stories that nearly intersected again and again and again, all in isolation. I could write a dissertation on this book.
(Was that review nonsensical? Probably)
September 18, 2019
3,5 Sterne
Das war genau die richtige Spannung für mich. Nicht zu krass, nicht zu soft. Die Protagonistin war eine wirklich vielschichtige und interessante Person. Ich habe es genossen mit ihr allein in der kalten Einöde.
Aber das Ende??? So was gemeines!!! Leute, hat das noch jemand gelesen? Ich habe Gesprächsbedarf.
Das war genau die richtige Spannung für mich. Nicht zu krass, nicht zu soft. Die Protagonistin war eine wirklich vielschichtige und interessante Person. Ich habe es genossen mit ihr allein in der kalten Einöde.
Aber das Ende??? So was gemeines!!! Leute, hat das noch jemand gelesen? Ich habe Gesprächsbedarf.
June 29, 2020
The unnamed narrator of Gabrielsen’s fifth novel is a 36-year-old researcher working towards a PhD on the climate’s effects on populations of seabirds, especially guillemots. During this seven-week winter spell in the far north of Norway, she’s left her three-year-old daughter behind with her ex, S, and hopes to receive a visit from her lover, Jo, even if it involves him leaving his daughter temporarily. In the meantime, they connect via Skype when signal allows. Apart from that and a sea captain bringing her supplies, she has no human contact.
Daily weather measurements and bird observations still leave too much time alone in a cramped cabin, and this starts to tell in the protagonist’s mental state: she’s tormented by sexual fantasies, by memories of her life with S, and by the thought of a local family, the Berthelsens, who experienced a disastrous house fire in 1870. More and more frequently, she finds herself imagining what happened to Olaf and Borghild Berthelsen. Solitude and this growing obsession with ghosts of the past make her start to lose her grip on reality.
I’d encountered an unreliable narrator and claustrophobic setting before from Gabrielsen with her second novel, The Looking-Glass Sisters. Extreme weather and isolation account for this being paired with Snow, Dog, Foot by Claudio Morandini as the first two books in Peirene’s 2020 “Closed Universe” trilogy. I was also reminded of Sarah Moss’s Night Waking. However, I found this novella’s metaphorical links – how seabirds and humans care for their young; physical and emotional threats; lowering weather and existential doom – too obvious.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
Daily weather measurements and bird observations still leave too much time alone in a cramped cabin, and this starts to tell in the protagonist’s mental state: she’s tormented by sexual fantasies, by memories of her life with S, and by the thought of a local family, the Berthelsens, who experienced a disastrous house fire in 1870. More and more frequently, she finds herself imagining what happened to Olaf and Borghild Berthelsen. Solitude and this growing obsession with ghosts of the past make her start to lose her grip on reality.
I’d encountered an unreliable narrator and claustrophobic setting before from Gabrielsen with her second novel, The Looking-Glass Sisters. Extreme weather and isolation account for this being paired with Snow, Dog, Foot by Claudio Morandini as the first two books in Peirene’s 2020 “Closed Universe” trilogy. I was also reminded of Sarah Moss’s Night Waking. However, I found this novella’s metaphorical links – how seabirds and humans care for their young; physical and emotional threats; lowering weather and existential doom – too obvious.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
July 7, 2020
“Was that how it was? I am spinning a story out of thin air and my own experiences. Am I stretching it too far?”
.
An environmental scientist is spending the winter on a remote peninsula in northern Norway in order to study the behaviour of seabirds. She is confident that she can prove a link between climate change and declining species and thereby publish her doctorate.
.
She is also waiting for her lover to arrive, and has left behind her young daughter with her volatile ex-husband.
.
The protagonist is a logical, intuitive and accomplished young woman, and the way in which she organises herself and her research is meticulously methodical. However, the longer she waits for her lover in this jagged wilderness, the more she fixates on the disturbing tragedy of the first settlers on that site. She registers more intense sensory reactions to this environment, and her grasp on reality begins to unravel. What I love about this story is that it’s so atmospheric and foreboding, evoking the sense of a dangerously beautiful place. I’m fascinated by how the development of the narrative leads to more questions than answers; this is packed with ambiguity in abundance! However, the ending left me wanting just slightly more detail; I like an open ending but with enough information that I can draw my own conclusions.
.
I’d definitely read more books by Gøhril Gabrielsen, and the translation here by Deborah Dawkin flowed very smoothly.
4.5/5🌟
.
Thank you very much @peirenepress for the gifted review copy.
.
An environmental scientist is spending the winter on a remote peninsula in northern Norway in order to study the behaviour of seabirds. She is confident that she can prove a link between climate change and declining species and thereby publish her doctorate.
.
She is also waiting for her lover to arrive, and has left behind her young daughter with her volatile ex-husband.
.
The protagonist is a logical, intuitive and accomplished young woman, and the way in which she organises herself and her research is meticulously methodical. However, the longer she waits for her lover in this jagged wilderness, the more she fixates on the disturbing tragedy of the first settlers on that site. She registers more intense sensory reactions to this environment, and her grasp on reality begins to unravel. What I love about this story is that it’s so atmospheric and foreboding, evoking the sense of a dangerously beautiful place. I’m fascinated by how the development of the narrative leads to more questions than answers; this is packed with ambiguity in abundance! However, the ending left me wanting just slightly more detail; I like an open ending but with enough information that I can draw my own conclusions.
.
I’d definitely read more books by Gøhril Gabrielsen, and the translation here by Deborah Dawkin flowed very smoothly.
4.5/5🌟
.
Thank you very much @peirenepress for the gifted review copy.
August 30, 2021
I have yet to read a Peirene Press book that wasn’t good and this story of a scientist who leaves her daughter in the care of her father, the protagonist’s menacing, unstable ex-husband, to spend the winter alone in far north Norway to study the impact of climate change on sea birds is one of the best from Peirene.
Upon arriving at her cabin, where she will live and work, and wait for the arrival of her lover, Jo, the unnamed scientist finds a pamphlet with local history of the area, including the story of a family that lived on the property and the fatal fire that led to another tragedy the following year. When her work is done she finds herself wondering about the couple, Olaf and Borghild, and their tragedy.
Gohril Gabrielsen vividly describes the landscape of the fjords, the roaring Barents Sea, the cliffs and mountains, and the constant wind that create a sense of the scientist being cut off from everyone. After surviving a terrible storm, injuries and fevers, the isolation starts to wear on her mind. Her lover keeps putting off his arrival, she’s questioning her own decision to leave her young daughter for so long, she receives threatening messages from her ex-husband, and her visions of Borghild’s grief and Olaf’s anger become more disturbing. All of this works together to create a building sense of tension for the protagonist and for the reader.
The first sentence of Ankomst is, “This is where the world ends.” We begin to wonder if this might be true for the protagonist.
Highly recommended.
Upon arriving at her cabin, where she will live and work, and wait for the arrival of her lover, Jo, the unnamed scientist finds a pamphlet with local history of the area, including the story of a family that lived on the property and the fatal fire that led to another tragedy the following year. When her work is done she finds herself wondering about the couple, Olaf and Borghild, and their tragedy.
Gohril Gabrielsen vividly describes the landscape of the fjords, the roaring Barents Sea, the cliffs and mountains, and the constant wind that create a sense of the scientist being cut off from everyone. After surviving a terrible storm, injuries and fevers, the isolation starts to wear on her mind. Her lover keeps putting off his arrival, she’s questioning her own decision to leave her young daughter for so long, she receives threatening messages from her ex-husband, and her visions of Borghild’s grief and Olaf’s anger become more disturbing. All of this works together to create a building sense of tension for the protagonist and for the reader.
The first sentence of Ankomst is, “This is where the world ends.” We begin to wonder if this might be true for the protagonist.
Highly recommended.
June 30, 2022
4.5*. A very slow but intense read that reminded me of Sarah Moss’ writing in many ways. Beautifully translated. A reasonably predictable story arc but the tension and dread were built so well throughout that it didn’t matter. Definitely going to pick up more from this author.
March 10, 2021
Peirene, who specialise in European translations, come up with some great stuff, and this is certainly one of my favourites; not a surprise really in that its plays with horror, and is set in the Norwegian Arctic.
An environmental scientist has travelled to a remote site in Finnmark in the north of Norway, cut off from all society, to study seabird populations, as she waits for her partner to join her. A simple premise, 'woman versus nature', initially grounded in reality, but the situation soon reveals itself to be more complicated, more allegorical, and far darker.
Gradually we realise why the woman has chosen to withdraw from society, and the internal struggles she is faced with; she has fled one type of horror, only to find herself in another.
Though ultimately it is a frustrating ending, Gabrielsen does a wonderful job in building tension, describing the narrator’s deteriorating state of mind, and the omens written in the skies over the frozen tundra.
An environmental scientist has travelled to a remote site in Finnmark in the north of Norway, cut off from all society, to study seabird populations, as she waits for her partner to join her. A simple premise, 'woman versus nature', initially grounded in reality, but the situation soon reveals itself to be more complicated, more allegorical, and far darker.
Gradually we realise why the woman has chosen to withdraw from society, and the internal struggles she is faced with; she has fled one type of horror, only to find herself in another.
Though ultimately it is a frustrating ending, Gabrielsen does a wonderful job in building tension, describing the narrator’s deteriorating state of mind, and the omens written in the skies over the frozen tundra.
August 14, 2020
Tolle Sprache mit stimmungsvollen Naturbeschreibungen und Vergleichen von Gefühlen mit Naturgewalten. Mir fehlte der Paukenschlag, dass gewisse etwas.
October 12, 2022
It's rare for a book to come so close to you that you feel as though it's injected its snowy yet pitch black essence straight into your heart. There's not much more I can say without giving away the plot or atmosphere, but I highly recommend it for those who like slow burn horror stories, existential writing styles, snow covered mountains keeping out civilisation, dysfunctional relationships, and atmospheric writing.
[I'm trying to read one book from every country in the world and this is my Norway pick. What a brilliant introduction to the country.]
[I'm trying to read one book from every country in the world and this is my Norway pick. What a brilliant introduction to the country.]
August 1, 2020
Novella set in Northern NORWAY
Our You Tube review: https://youtu.be/27dhKy8caAw
Another beautifully produced novella from boutique publisher, Peirene Press. 50p from the sale of each book goes to charity. The book itself is a thing of beauty and quality, the paper sustainably sourced and has lovely jacket flaps, which are so rare these days (but maybe, across the board, I spot the dawn of a comeback for those, I think!).
An unnamed woman – a scientist – heads out to carry out research in inhospitable northern Norway, where she is examining the impact of climate change on the bird population. She is transported, along with her food requirements for several weeks and incarcerates herself in a primitive cabin. Water for her personal needs is sourced from melt water, she has the bare necessities.
She talks on occasion, when connectivity permits, to her lover Jo. He is back home looking after his own daughter. The scientist, too, has a daughter who she has left being behind, cared for by her previous partner. The latter, however, was controlling during their relationship, so why she felt comfortable leaving her daughter with him is something that niggles away at her (and at the reader, I must say). Jo, her current partner has voiced concern at her willingness to up sticks and disappear from her (and his) life.
She discovers the traumatic life of a family, not far from where she is based, who lived 140 years ago. As the days move on, the family becomes more real and she imagines their life. They somehow keep her anchored.
I think this novella really gets the reader pondering what a life might be like with no outside stimulus, no human contact, no real colour. Left to one’s own thoughts, in the slurry of reminiscence and experience, how can one keep one’s sanity?
This is a beautiful piece of prose, translated by Deborah Dawkin. Recommended if you want a read that is equivalent in length to a film.
Our You Tube review: https://youtu.be/27dhKy8caAw
Another beautifully produced novella from boutique publisher, Peirene Press. 50p from the sale of each book goes to charity. The book itself is a thing of beauty and quality, the paper sustainably sourced and has lovely jacket flaps, which are so rare these days (but maybe, across the board, I spot the dawn of a comeback for those, I think!).
An unnamed woman – a scientist – heads out to carry out research in inhospitable northern Norway, where she is examining the impact of climate change on the bird population. She is transported, along with her food requirements for several weeks and incarcerates herself in a primitive cabin. Water for her personal needs is sourced from melt water, she has the bare necessities.
She talks on occasion, when connectivity permits, to her lover Jo. He is back home looking after his own daughter. The scientist, too, has a daughter who she has left being behind, cared for by her previous partner. The latter, however, was controlling during their relationship, so why she felt comfortable leaving her daughter with him is something that niggles away at her (and at the reader, I must say). Jo, her current partner has voiced concern at her willingness to up sticks and disappear from her (and his) life.
She discovers the traumatic life of a family, not far from where she is based, who lived 140 years ago. As the days move on, the family becomes more real and she imagines their life. They somehow keep her anchored.
I think this novella really gets the reader pondering what a life might be like with no outside stimulus, no human contact, no real colour. Left to one’s own thoughts, in the slurry of reminiscence and experience, how can one keep one’s sanity?
This is a beautiful piece of prose, translated by Deborah Dawkin. Recommended if you want a read that is equivalent in length to a film.
July 20, 2021
The tern of the screwed
No tern is harmed in this novella, but a woman’s ambiguous ghostly or psychological encounter in a remote job site, with escalating unravelling of a susceptible human mind, and its insistence to squeeze certain knowledge out of unhelpful raw data under the influence of volatile environment, mental turmoil, loneliness, and cryptic communication, and no possibility of clarification or substantiation for any of the projected theories, puts this in the lineage of Jamesian “amusette.”
In other words, it could be anything or everything.Miss Jessel and Peter Quint Borghild and Olaf may or may not be haunting this place, the narrator may or may not be misjudging and projecting, the ex may or may not be dangerous, the child may or may not be manipulated by an unstable carer, the captain may or may not be complicit, the narrator may or may not be the one hurting people with no self insights, the novel confirms nothing, permits every interpretation, depending on how susceptible you allow your mind to be.
No tern is harmed in this novella, but a woman’s ambiguous ghostly or psychological encounter in a remote job site, with escalating unravelling of a susceptible human mind, and its insistence to squeeze certain knowledge out of unhelpful raw data under the influence of volatile environment, mental turmoil, loneliness, and cryptic communication, and no possibility of clarification or substantiation for any of the projected theories, puts this in the lineage of Jamesian “amusette.”
In other words, it could be anything or everything.
June 3, 2022
70°58min36sNord
Norwegen
"Ich forsche hier, ich bin geflüchtet und ich warte auf meinen Geliebten."
Was passiert, wenn man sich von seiner Familie trennt um monatelang allein für ein Forschungsprojekt an einen einsamen Ort zu fahren? Was passiert, wenn man vor Antritt der Reise schon Anzeichen einer Geisteskrankheit zeigt? Und wie endet das Ganze, wenn der Geliebte nicht kommt....
Im Übrigen erfährt man nie, wie die Protagonistin heißt.
Skurril.
Norwegen
"Ich forsche hier, ich bin geflüchtet und ich warte auf meinen Geliebten."
Was passiert, wenn man sich von seiner Familie trennt um monatelang allein für ein Forschungsprojekt an einen einsamen Ort zu fahren? Was passiert, wenn man vor Antritt der Reise schon Anzeichen einer Geisteskrankheit zeigt? Und wie endet das Ganze, wenn der Geliebte nicht kommt....
Im Übrigen erfährt man nie, wie die Protagonistin heißt.
Skurril.
July 19, 2020
This book came onto my radar after reading this review -
https://tonysreadinglist.wordpress.co...
It sounded promising and didn't disappoint. Daytime reading may be advised because as each evening approaches in this novella, so does a perceptible psychological darkness. After reading this, you'll understand why one star is missing.
https://tonysreadinglist.wordpress.co...
It sounded promising and didn't disappoint. Daytime reading may be advised because as each evening approaches in this novella, so does a perceptible psychological darkness. After reading this, you'll understand why one star is missing.
December 2, 2022
In diesem Buch passiert eigentlich gar nichts und das Meiste spielt sich im Kopf der Protagonistin ab. Eine interessante Geschichte, aber auch irgendwie recht belanglos.
CN: häusliche Gewalt
CN: häusliche Gewalt
May 11, 2020
Excellent, compellingly written novella. I would give it four and a half stars. I read the English translation by Deborah Dawkin, publishing by Peirene: https://www.peirenepress.com/shop/com...
January 4, 2018
For kort. For mange kolon.
June 30, 2020
ANKOMST ~ Gøhril Gabrielsen
• "This something - this sinister something in this place. Is it real, concrete? Am I feeling an intangible presence that any other person in my position would have felt? A presence that no one could identify or explain rationally? So far I have no answer."
• An environmental scientist has chosen to spend the winter on a remote peninsula in the far north of Norway in order to collect data on the activities of the seabird population. She is determined to prove a link between climate change and the decline in numbers of various species. She is also waiting for her lover to arrive. But cut off from human contact, tested by the primal forces of nature, she finds herself drawn into a dark and uncomfortable places that defies scientific logic. As she delves into the past, she has to face up to her earlier decisions. What are her true motives for coming here? Why has she left her young daughter and ex-husband behind? And will her lover ever join her? (Blurb)
• This was an ambiguous and at times uncomfortable read. I can picture the harsh weather conditions, the utter darkness closing around you; having experienced many a Norwegian winter. You rely on everything the main character has not, to get you through.
We get a glimpse into a past life, another family, living there in the 19th century and a terrible fire which must have shattered everything. The main character starts imagining how it must have been for them, Borghild and Olaf; what they said to each other and how they felt. She starts seeing them, feeling a presence, and then experiences memory loss. Being a scientist, this goes against everything she believes in and she clings on to her weather measurements and routines in order to stay sane. But is it too late?
For such a short book, it packs a punch. There definitely seems to be some trauma behind a number of questionable decisions, and I became aware of an unconscious dislike of the main character due to the choices she made. I loved the look into the past.
It was an intense and fascinating read - a strong 4 🌟 Recommend to anyone who's not scared of their own reflection 😬
Thanks to Peirene Press for the gifted copy.
• "This something - this sinister something in this place. Is it real, concrete? Am I feeling an intangible presence that any other person in my position would have felt? A presence that no one could identify or explain rationally? So far I have no answer."
• An environmental scientist has chosen to spend the winter on a remote peninsula in the far north of Norway in order to collect data on the activities of the seabird population. She is determined to prove a link between climate change and the decline in numbers of various species. She is also waiting for her lover to arrive. But cut off from human contact, tested by the primal forces of nature, she finds herself drawn into a dark and uncomfortable places that defies scientific logic. As she delves into the past, she has to face up to her earlier decisions. What are her true motives for coming here? Why has she left her young daughter and ex-husband behind? And will her lover ever join her? (Blurb)
• This was an ambiguous and at times uncomfortable read. I can picture the harsh weather conditions, the utter darkness closing around you; having experienced many a Norwegian winter. You rely on everything the main character has not, to get you through.
We get a glimpse into a past life, another family, living there in the 19th century and a terrible fire which must have shattered everything. The main character starts imagining how it must have been for them, Borghild and Olaf; what they said to each other and how they felt. She starts seeing them, feeling a presence, and then experiences memory loss. Being a scientist, this goes against everything she believes in and she clings on to her weather measurements and routines in order to stay sane. But is it too late?
For such a short book, it packs a punch. There definitely seems to be some trauma behind a number of questionable decisions, and I became aware of an unconscious dislike of the main character due to the choices she made. I loved the look into the past.
It was an intense and fascinating read - a strong 4 🌟 Recommend to anyone who's not scared of their own reflection 😬
Thanks to Peirene Press for the gifted copy.
January 23, 2025
2 Sterne. Ich bin mir nicht sicher, wo dieses Buch hin will. Die Protagonistin läuft im Kreis, gedanklich wie auch physisch in ihrer eintönigen Forschungsarbeit weit ab von der Zivilisation in einer Welt aus Eis und Schnee: Forschung - phantastische Vorstellungen über die ehemaligen Bewohner der Schneehütte - schlechtes Gewissen wegen ihrer Tochter - Bedrohungssituation durch ihren ungehaltenen, narzisstischen Ex - Sexphantasien mit ihrem neuen Liebhaber. Einöde und Einsamkeit verleiten sie dazu, Gedankenschleifen zu fahren und sich in ihnen zu verlieren. So verloren fühlte ich mich im Text auch. Die wissenschaftlichen Aspekte und Beschreibungen der harschen Umwelt konnten mich abholen, standen aber im harten Kontrast zur ständig latenten Angst und Unruhe und den Phantasien und Tagträumerein, denen sich die Protagonistin hingibt, darauf ausgelegt, ihre Einsamkeit mit Drängen und Wünschen vollzuladen. Dieser Mix konnte mich nicht überzeugen. Am Ende fragte ich mich nur noch, ob die Realität oder ihre Fantasie an die Tür klopft.
July 18, 2020
Quiet, reflective novel but it's lack of action, meandering narration, and frustrating ending made it somewhat arduous.
December 18, 2024
Wahnsinnig gut und spannend geschrieben. Sicher mit tieferem Sinn, der mir jedoch unklar ist haha
April 16, 2025
our lives will be built out of a sea of ashes and you expect everything to be as it was before?
December 29, 2024
Nette Geschichte, stellenweise spannend, aber was am Ende der Sinn war, keine Ahnung!
Das offene Ende wird mich noch eine Weile beschäftigen, so was mag ich ja.
Das offene Ende wird mich noch eine Weile beschäftigen, so was mag ich ja.
September 6, 2019
Naturgewalten, Vergangenheit und Einsamkeit
Fee erzählt vom Buch:
Gøhril Gabrielson erzählt die Geschichte einer Wissenschaftlerin, die im Winter – für 6 Monate - nach Finnmark zieht. Einsam und alleine in den äußersten Zipfel Norwegens. Sie möchte die Vogelpopulation und die Temperatur bzw. die Klimaveränderungen erkunden.
Nur ein Kapitän, der ihr immer wieder Lebensmittel bringt, besucht sie dort. Sie hat eine Ehe hinter sich, die sie nicht glücklich machte und sie hat einen Freund Jo, der hinterher kommen möchte, wenn seine Tochter ihn gerade nicht mehr benötigt.
Fees Meinung:
Darf man offen zugeben, dass man das Buch bzw. Hörbuch nicht verstanden hat und am Ende ratloser davor sitzt wie zwischendurch? Ich weiß nicht, war es Wahn, Einbildung und Wahnsinn und wer war der Besucher, der an ihre Hütte klopft?
Diese Wissenschaftlerin hat auch keinen Namen und ihr Mann ist S. Ihre Tochter Lina hat einen Namen. Ihr Freund Jo, seine Ex-Frau und seine Tochter Maria auch. Es wird aus der Sicht der Wissenschaftlerin in Ich-Form gerichtet. Eigentlich sollte Jo nachkommen, aber rasch wird mir klar, dass dies nie geschehen wird, weil er seine Tochter nicht mitnehmen kann. In diese Öde und Einsamkeit.
Sie – die Wissenschaftlerin - ist sehr einsam. Daher setzt sie sich mit sich selbst auseinander und mit der Frau die vor ihr hier irgendwann im 18. Jahrhundert mit ihrer Familie wohnte, wo der Sohn bei einem Brand ums Leben kam und die Ehe dabei kaputt ging. Irgendwie wird das ganze sehr geschickt mit der Gegenwart verflochten und die Wissenschaftlerin ist die Frau von damals und die heutige Frau.
Auf der einen Seite erdet das Buch und beruhigt einen, bis man einfach nicht mehr mitkommt, das Buch nicht mehr versteht und am Ende viele Fragen hat.
Die Landschaft ist so passend und Natur und Naturgewalten werden erklärt und alles ist so, dass man drüber nachdenken muss. Ich höre die Stille aber auch den Sturm, der laut ist. Das Wetter bzw. die Landschaft ist dann auch so wie ihre Gedanken.
Man kann sich wirklich alles gut und bildlich vorstellen und sich in die Protagonisten versetzen. Die Bedrohung durch S. ist spürbar und so ist man davon überzeugt, dass er kommt und ihrem Leben ein Ende macht. Es läuft auf einen Showdown heraus, aber irgendwie hört das Buch abrupt beim Höhepunkt auf. Trotzdem, das Buch ist so sehr tiefgründig und man könnte sehr viel hinein interpretieren, genauso wie bei einem Künstler, der ein Bild malt. So ist das Bild mit Worten und Buchstaben beschrieben. Das ganze ist so bildlich geschrieben, dass ich mir alles gut vorstellen kann. Die Gedanken sind so unterhaltsam, dass ich alle Gefühle nachvollziehen kann. Ich hätte S. auch verlassen, denn das ist hammerhart. Es gab sehr viele lange Kapitel, aber auch ein paar kurze.
In der „Einfachheit ihres Seins“ setzt sie sich mit allem auseinander auch mit ihrem Körper, ihren sexuellen Gefühlen und ihrer Menstruation. Der Autor lässt nichts aus. Natürlich kommt sie sich auch wie eine Rabenmutter vor, weil sie ihre Tochter bei S. gelassen hat. Und dazu die Bedrohung durch ihren Ex-Mann S.
Zuerst dachte ich, das Hörbuch ist langweilig, aber je länger ich hörte, desto mehr möchte ich hören und bin „mitten im Geschehen“. Es ist einfach so eine besondere Atmosphäre und diese Gedanken. Obwohl die Arbeit und die Einsamkeit dort eigentlich langweilig sein müssten. Aber je länger ich höre, desto mehr „erde“ ich mich. Es beruhigt mich irgendwie.
Die Wissenschaftlerin hat auch immer wieder seltsame Unfälle und findet sich dann in der Hütte wieder, ohne dass sie weiß, wie sie hingekommen ist. Dazu ihr alarmierender Status. Mehr möchte ich jetzt auch gar nicht erzählen.
Das Cover ist in zartem blau gehalten. Und verdient rundum eine 1 mit Sternchen.
Mein – Lesezeichenfees – Fazit:
Ich habe mich einerseits sehr gut unterhalten gefühlt. Da das Ende offen ist, habe ich mich gefragt, ob ich das Buch verstanden habe und bleibe sehr verwirrt und mit vielen Fragen zurück. Trotz allem, ich hab das Hörbuch verschlungen, von daher kann ich guten Gewissens 3,5 Sterne vergeben.
Fee erzählt vom Buch:
Gøhril Gabrielson erzählt die Geschichte einer Wissenschaftlerin, die im Winter – für 6 Monate - nach Finnmark zieht. Einsam und alleine in den äußersten Zipfel Norwegens. Sie möchte die Vogelpopulation und die Temperatur bzw. die Klimaveränderungen erkunden.
Nur ein Kapitän, der ihr immer wieder Lebensmittel bringt, besucht sie dort. Sie hat eine Ehe hinter sich, die sie nicht glücklich machte und sie hat einen Freund Jo, der hinterher kommen möchte, wenn seine Tochter ihn gerade nicht mehr benötigt.
Fees Meinung:
Darf man offen zugeben, dass man das Buch bzw. Hörbuch nicht verstanden hat und am Ende ratloser davor sitzt wie zwischendurch? Ich weiß nicht, war es Wahn, Einbildung und Wahnsinn und wer war der Besucher, der an ihre Hütte klopft?
Diese Wissenschaftlerin hat auch keinen Namen und ihr Mann ist S. Ihre Tochter Lina hat einen Namen. Ihr Freund Jo, seine Ex-Frau und seine Tochter Maria auch. Es wird aus der Sicht der Wissenschaftlerin in Ich-Form gerichtet. Eigentlich sollte Jo nachkommen, aber rasch wird mir klar, dass dies nie geschehen wird, weil er seine Tochter nicht mitnehmen kann. In diese Öde und Einsamkeit.
Sie – die Wissenschaftlerin - ist sehr einsam. Daher setzt sie sich mit sich selbst auseinander und mit der Frau die vor ihr hier irgendwann im 18. Jahrhundert mit ihrer Familie wohnte, wo der Sohn bei einem Brand ums Leben kam und die Ehe dabei kaputt ging. Irgendwie wird das ganze sehr geschickt mit der Gegenwart verflochten und die Wissenschaftlerin ist die Frau von damals und die heutige Frau.
Auf der einen Seite erdet das Buch und beruhigt einen, bis man einfach nicht mehr mitkommt, das Buch nicht mehr versteht und am Ende viele Fragen hat.
Die Landschaft ist so passend und Natur und Naturgewalten werden erklärt und alles ist so, dass man drüber nachdenken muss. Ich höre die Stille aber auch den Sturm, der laut ist. Das Wetter bzw. die Landschaft ist dann auch so wie ihre Gedanken.
Man kann sich wirklich alles gut und bildlich vorstellen und sich in die Protagonisten versetzen. Die Bedrohung durch S. ist spürbar und so ist man davon überzeugt, dass er kommt und ihrem Leben ein Ende macht. Es läuft auf einen Showdown heraus, aber irgendwie hört das Buch abrupt beim Höhepunkt auf. Trotzdem, das Buch ist so sehr tiefgründig und man könnte sehr viel hinein interpretieren, genauso wie bei einem Künstler, der ein Bild malt. So ist das Bild mit Worten und Buchstaben beschrieben. Das ganze ist so bildlich geschrieben, dass ich mir alles gut vorstellen kann. Die Gedanken sind so unterhaltsam, dass ich alle Gefühle nachvollziehen kann. Ich hätte S. auch verlassen, denn das ist hammerhart. Es gab sehr viele lange Kapitel, aber auch ein paar kurze.
In der „Einfachheit ihres Seins“ setzt sie sich mit allem auseinander auch mit ihrem Körper, ihren sexuellen Gefühlen und ihrer Menstruation. Der Autor lässt nichts aus. Natürlich kommt sie sich auch wie eine Rabenmutter vor, weil sie ihre Tochter bei S. gelassen hat. Und dazu die Bedrohung durch ihren Ex-Mann S.
Zuerst dachte ich, das Hörbuch ist langweilig, aber je länger ich hörte, desto mehr möchte ich hören und bin „mitten im Geschehen“. Es ist einfach so eine besondere Atmosphäre und diese Gedanken. Obwohl die Arbeit und die Einsamkeit dort eigentlich langweilig sein müssten. Aber je länger ich höre, desto mehr „erde“ ich mich. Es beruhigt mich irgendwie.
Die Wissenschaftlerin hat auch immer wieder seltsame Unfälle und findet sich dann in der Hütte wieder, ohne dass sie weiß, wie sie hingekommen ist. Dazu ihr alarmierender Status. Mehr möchte ich jetzt auch gar nicht erzählen.
Das Cover ist in zartem blau gehalten. Und verdient rundum eine 1 mit Sternchen.
Mein – Lesezeichenfees – Fazit:
Ich habe mich einerseits sehr gut unterhalten gefühlt. Da das Ende offen ist, habe ich mich gefragt, ob ich das Buch verstanden habe und bleibe sehr verwirrt und mit vielen Fragen zurück. Trotz allem, ich hab das Hörbuch verschlungen, von daher kann ich guten Gewissens 3,5 Sterne vergeben.
June 2, 2020
Very apt but maybe not the best thing to be reading right now, this is the story of a woman living alone and researching seabirds in the far north of Norway in the middle of winter.. There is no one else nearby, and she has left behind her daughter and a difficult marital situation. She is waiting for her new lover to arrive. Slowly, she seems to start to fall into some sort of loneliness induced psychosis.
This is one of those books where much is left unanswered. It’s hard to write about without giving away too much but at its heart it spoke mainly to me of damaged relationships and isolation - a quiet but eerie and discombobulating read that packs a lot of awkward questions into a very small space.
This is one of those books where much is left unanswered. It’s hard to write about without giving away too much but at its heart it spoke mainly to me of damaged relationships and isolation - a quiet but eerie and discombobulating read that packs a lot of awkward questions into a very small space.
Displaying 1 - 29 of 60 reviews