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The Scent of Light
Kazim Ali introduces five autofiction novellas by Kristjana Gunnars—available in the U.S. for the first time, in a single, handsome volume.
Between the late eighties and late nineties, Kristjana Gunnars published five transgeneric novels comprised of a scintillating blend of fiction, autobiography, literary theory, and philosophy. Elusive and poetic… rigorous yet passionate...these books were treasured by a devoted readership and have been lauded by critics throughout the years since.
— Kazim Ali, from the introduction
From a childhood in Cold War Iceland to love affairs and deaths, these short works document a life of perpetual motion, told a discontinuous, subversive style to reflect the singular, feminist, nomadic life of the narrator.
It is a life of thought, an ongoing engagement with writers from Proust to Kierkegaard to Kristeva, seeking and often finding a companionship in the writing of others. These five spellbinding narratives act as a bending bow, open to what life has to offer day by day and taking the gentler course, wherein nothing is forced and life’s big questions remain beautifully unanswered.
The Prowler is a reminiscence of childhood spent in Iceland, seen from a distance with the Cold War as a backdrop, just before the hyper-modernization of the mid-sixties, when the air of the past was still discernible. When an orange was a delicacy against the darkness. This is Gunnars’ most lauded novella.
Zero Hour is a contemplation and remembrance of the narrator’s father and his death. The narrative traces the course of the father’s illness and final moments, and confronts the reality and grief of absolute endings.
The Substance of Forgetting is ultimately about happiness. Set in a lush valley in central B.C., the narrator begins to awaken to possibilities of love and transcendence.
The Rose Garden is set in Germany and the narrator is on an academic exchange wherein all that happens are things that are not supposed to happen.
Night Train to Nykøbing is a darker exploration of life’s (and love’s) unknowns and the dangers inherent in choices we make. The narrator is travelling between Vancouver and Oslo in a continuous back and forth that gives rise to a sense of the liminality of life itself.
Between the late eighties and late nineties, Kristjana Gunnars published five transgeneric novels comprised of a scintillating blend of fiction, autobiography, literary theory, and philosophy. Elusive and poetic… rigorous yet passionate...these books were treasured by a devoted readership and have been lauded by critics throughout the years since.
— Kazim Ali, from the introduction
From a childhood in Cold War Iceland to love affairs and deaths, these short works document a life of perpetual motion, told a discontinuous, subversive style to reflect the singular, feminist, nomadic life of the narrator.
It is a life of thought, an ongoing engagement with writers from Proust to Kierkegaard to Kristeva, seeking and often finding a companionship in the writing of others. These five spellbinding narratives act as a bending bow, open to what life has to offer day by day and taking the gentler course, wherein nothing is forced and life’s big questions remain beautifully unanswered.
The Prowler is a reminiscence of childhood spent in Iceland, seen from a distance with the Cold War as a backdrop, just before the hyper-modernization of the mid-sixties, when the air of the past was still discernible. When an orange was a delicacy against the darkness. This is Gunnars’ most lauded novella.
Zero Hour is a contemplation and remembrance of the narrator’s father and his death. The narrative traces the course of the father’s illness and final moments, and confronts the reality and grief of absolute endings.
The Substance of Forgetting is ultimately about happiness. Set in a lush valley in central B.C., the narrator begins to awaken to possibilities of love and transcendence.
The Rose Garden is set in Germany and the narrator is on an academic exchange wherein all that happens are things that are not supposed to happen.
Night Train to Nykøbing is a darker exploration of life’s (and love’s) unknowns and the dangers inherent in choices we make. The narrator is travelling between Vancouver and Oslo in a continuous back and forth that gives rise to a sense of the liminality of life itself.
- GenresMemoir
350 pages, Paperback
Published May 17, 2022
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
September 5, 2022
Read my full review at Necessary Fiction!
Between 1989 and 1998, Icelandic-Canadian writer Kristjana Gunnars penned five short novels that traveled fluently through genres — philosophy, literary theory, criticism, memoir, fiction, poetry, even nature writing — and anticipated autofiction before the genre was defined. Published originally and exclusively in Canada, Gunnars’ quintet has now been published in a single volume: The Scent of Light. The five-work cycle follows five protagonists — who may or may not be the same woman at distinct stages of life — as they navigate passion and loss, uncertainty and solitude, contentment and transcendence.
Between 1989 and 1998, Icelandic-Canadian writer Kristjana Gunnars penned five short novels that traveled fluently through genres — philosophy, literary theory, criticism, memoir, fiction, poetry, even nature writing — and anticipated autofiction before the genre was defined. Published originally and exclusively in Canada, Gunnars’ quintet has now been published in a single volume: The Scent of Light. The five-work cycle follows five protagonists — who may or may not be the same woman at distinct stages of life — as they navigate passion and loss, uncertainty and solitude, contentment and transcendence.
October 18, 2025
Finally finished. The first novella was magical, the second brutal but good, the third starting to trail off, and the last two were mid and stuffed with too many insights. All that said, the form of the novellas inspired me and opened a new path for my own writing, fragments put together with no loyalty to time or narrative. It was out of a debt of gratitude for the inspiration that I slogged through those last three.
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March 26, 2026It was a long time before I understood that the point is an illusion. That portraits occur without centre. In a puzzle every piece is its own centre, and when compiled the work is either made up entirely of centres or of no centre at all.
I had intimations of that 'slow generative nightmare' that tells you the way society is organized has nothing to do with reality. And reality is largely unknown.
A book of assorted musings with no clear center, but each fragment feels like a tiny insight into a greater truth.
July 9, 2024
I wanted to like this book. It just didn’t captivate me. The Cold War-era depiction of Iceland was fascinating though.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews