Your Presence Is Requested at Suvanto

by Maile Chapman

A brilliant and unnerving debut novel about the mysteriously ill patients at a remote hospital in Finland

In a remote, piney wood in Finland stands a convalescent hospital called Suvanto, a curving concrete example of austere Scandinavian design. It is the 1920s, and the patients, all women, seek relief from ailments real and imagined. On the lower floors are the stoic Finnish women; on the upper floors are foreign women of privilege — the "up-patients". They are tended to by head nurse Sunny Taylor, an American who has fled an ill-starred life only to retreat behind a mask of crisp professionalism. On a late-summer day a new patient arrives on Sunny's ward — a faded, irascible former ballroom-dance instructor named Julia Dey. Sunny takes it upon herself to pierce the mystery of Julia's reserve. Soon, Julia's difficulty, her tightly coiled anger, places her at the center of the ward's tangled emotional life. This fraught dynamic animates Maile Chapman's ambitious first novel. As summer turns to fall, and fall to a long, dark winter, the patients hear rumors about changes being implemented at Suvanto by an American obstetrician, Dr. Peter Weber, who is experimenting with a new surgical stitch. Their familiar routine threatened, the women are not happy (they were not happy before), and the story's escalating menace builds to a terrifying conclusion.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Horror, Literary Fiction, Novels, Womens, Gothic

263 pages, Hardcover

First published March 30, 2010

About the author

Maile Chapman's stories have appeared in A Public Space, Literary Review, the Mississippi Review, and Post Road. She earned her MFA from Syracuse University and is currently a Schaeffer Fellow in Fiction at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas."

Reviews

[Austen to Zafón · Rating 2 out of 5]

I picked this up off the "new books" shelf at the library, knowing nothing about it. I liked the cover and the reviews on the back made it sound enthralling and spooky, atmospheric and insular. Well, it certainly was atmospheric and insular, taking place at a remote women's rest home in 1920s Finland during the winter. The snow, the darkness, the repetitive bland food, and little news of the outside world all made me feel claustrophobic. The story focuses on several women and one particular nurse (an American named Sunny), who are all really there to escape their outside lives. They occupy the "up-ward," where the wealthy women with vague physical complaints can pay to stay and be treated like invalids. The remoteness and the boredom lead to dysfunctional relationships and unhappiness. Nevertheless, the women want to protect what they have and when a new doctor arrives with plans to turn the place into a maternity ward, they band together despite their differences. The writing is detailed and evocative and the setting is very interesting, but somehow I just didn't care much for the book. I kept reading, thinking there was going to be a big climax, but I'm still not even sure exactly what happened, which was unsatisfying and a little irritating. I also didn't care for any of the characters, except maybe Laimi. I wish the author had elaborated more on the relationship between Laimi & Sunny. On the whole, I wouldn't recommend it unless you are interested in the time and place.

[Arancha Ch. Gonzalez · Rating 2 out of 5]

Me ha aburrido. No tiene nada que ver lo que esperaba que fuese, más tipo novela de suspense que lo que para mi gusto ha sido: relato de la planta de un hospital de convalecencia donde las Sras. de principios del Siglo XX iban a reposar. Una enfermera protagonista que no sabe qué hacer con su vida mientras siente cómo se le escurre por las manos. Y un nuevo médico que decide que ya está bien en tener una planta entera de un hospital como un club social en lugar de ser lo que es: un hospital. por esta causa hay un giro que llega para mi gusto, demasiado tarde... Hay algún personaje más relevante que otro pero en general un relato bastante lineal.
Las dos estrellas son por el placer de leer una buena narrativa descriptiva como la que despliega la autora.

[Tara · Rating 3 out of 5]

What is it called when a book makes you feel like you're right there? This one has it, and "there" is super creepy and very Shining-esque. However, the Overlook Hotel had some likable characters while Suvanto is teeming with Shelley Duvall's. The horror, the horror, the horror.

The writing is a joy and from the lyrical prose unravels a smart, atmospheric mystery. Eventually. And maybe too smart. Frankly, I don't know WTF just happened. On the bright side, there is no chance my review contains spoilers.

[Robert Beveridge · Rating 3 out of 5]

Maile Chapman, Your Presence Is Requested at Suvanto (Graywolf Press, 2010)

I have always had a thing for difficult novels. I count among my favorite books of all time both Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian, or, the Evening Redness in the West and Wendy Walker's The Secret Service, two books that no one in their right mind would ever take to the beach. But the rewards for struggling through archaic language or crazy diction are well worth the effort of reading such books when the writer is a true craftsman. Which brings me to the difference between difficult and ponderous—a distinction which Maile Chapman has not quite mastered yet.

Your Presence is Requested at Suvanto takes place in rural Finland (Suvanto, loosely translated, means “backwater”) between the wars. Sunny Taylor, an American nurse, is fleeing from her old life, and taking a job in the middle of nowhere seems to be the way to start anew. Suvanto, a women's hospital, is a blend of actual hospital for the local population and rest-home-cum-hotel for the “up-patients”, foreign wives of logging executives and the like who stay on the third floor, some with real complaints, others not. Sunny comes in as the head nurse for the third floor, as much a melting pot as anything was in the twenties; her patients are a mix of Finns, Swedes, Danes, and the occasional woman from an English-speaking country. Things are going along as usual before two events shake up the complacency of patients and staff alike. First, as the novel opens, is the arrival of Julia Dey, a Dane who used to teach ballroom dancing, but is now retired thanks to what we'll call female problems (you can't be too explicit on Amazon, now). Julia, in no small part because of the pain she's in, is irascible and moody, and her favorite hobby is pushing buttons in the patients and staff alike. Sunny, however, feels an odd attachment for the woman, and resolves to break through her shell. Then, halfway through the book, is another arrival, that of Dr. Peter Weber (whose sister-in-law, Pearl, is a longtime on-and-off resident of the third floor). Weber, an obstetrician by trade, is experimenting with ways to make caesarian sections safer, but underlying his seeming concern for the health of his patients is the deepest sort of inhumanity; he sees the women at Suvanto as test subjects rather than human beings, and this is a disruption that can only be tolerated for so long before something snaps...

When you think about the awkwardness of the title—and it is an awkward one—you'll get a sense of the language of the book. It's not archaic, exactly, but the rhythm isn't quite what you're used to. This is the same trick McCarthy pulls in his novels, but McCarthy balances it by going over the top in other areas. On the other side of that coin, it's impressive that Chapman, an American writer, has internalized the reserve of Scandinavian thriller writers as well as she has, but when you combine the two, that's when you start getting into the realm of ponderous. (As a baseline, by the way, one of the few dozen books I have never been able to make myself finish is Smilla's Sense of Snow; there are enough similarities in the pacing that I can say “if you liked that one...”.) This is especially troubling, to me, in a book that runs just two hundred thirty-six pages; one would expect a sharper sense of pace in a shorter novel, and it never appears here.

My other problem with the book is the characterization, which is all over the map. Peter Weber, for example, is a main character in that he is an agent of change, but he's not introduced until halfway through the book, and then we get almost nothing at all about him. This could be explained away by the fact that much of the book revolves around Sunny, Pearl, and Julia, but there are a few times when the third-person omniscient breaks away. By the time Peter Weber was introduced, the rhythm of the book's perspective shifts had me expecting we'd drop in on him occasionally. And right when I expected it to happen, we did, in fact, drop in on Peter Weber, in the midst of a huge gaffe changing his landscaping. And then... nothing. For the rest of the book, we get Weber through Sunny's eyes and Sunny's eyes only. It's a good way to restrict information about a main character, but once you've set the reader's expectations that something else will happen, it feels kind of like cheating to use it, you know?

Underneath all this is an intelligent mystery that's well-plotted, but you've got to get through the book's flaws to see it. Whether the payoff is worth it will be up to the individual reader to decide, but I am fond of mysteries with the kind of ending this one has (to say what that is would be a spoiler, so I will refrain), so I ended up being able to forgive a lot. Your mileage may vary. ** ½

[Amy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Your Presence is Requested at Suvanto, Maile Chapman

“Sunny withholds judgment but she knows, sometimes this happiness, this passive acceptance, sometimes it is the beginning of decline.”



Sunny Taylor is an American nurse who seeks employment in a private hospital in Finland, escaping bitter memories and looking to soothe them in the cold and remote location. Thus she begins her work at Suvanto, a spa-like hospital focused on caring for wealthy women who are there for various reasons. Some need genuine medical attention, others simply need to be attended to, and a few lack any other place that feels like home. All of them easily leaving behind husbands and family for the refuge of Suvanto.

Besides Sunny, an independent and skillful nurse, we meet Julia, a hostile and baiting old woman, and Pearl, a childish socialite absorbed in her own amusement. All of them are at Suvanto to escape, but what they avoid is unique to each. What unites them is the need to have nothing matter, no complications to deal with. Suvanto provides them with an excuse to be treated for medical conditions when really they are there for leisure. The numbing routine of crafts and walks and gazing at the frozen sea affects them, in a way the reader does not foresee.

Chapman builds the characters slowly and delicately. Sunny, soon after her eager arrival, is at odds with herself, as she desperately wants to matter: “Here, without anything truly at risk, she feels like she’s merely pretending, in everything. The work is nearly meaningless, and life is nothing but a search for meaning, yes? Isn’t that right? […:] Doesn’t that mean for as long as she remains here, completing such tasks, she is wasting her energy? Wasting her life?” Rather than finding contentment in a job well-done, she begins to unravel. She begins to question the true motivation of the women who come to Suvanto.

Julia, a former dancer who arrives to manipulate and harass the staff, elicits no sympathy from Sunny as she creates contention and ill-will in the hospital. And then Pearl arrives, a repeat visitor; a wealthy woman who buys jewels as others might buy candy, eager to fall into her routine. Of her, we read: “She likes to move from place to place, most especially when the place exists without her, and can be returned to with no explanations, no responsibilities. With frequent departures she conceals the fact that she cannot form friendships.” Her lack of connection to a fixed location becomes a pivotal point in understanding her character and the meaning of Suvanto.

The pace of the story is slow and spends its time focusing on the details of Finland, the relationships between the women and their battles for attention, and the change in composure that Sunny experiences in her new locale. The pace can be deceptive, as Chapman is knitting together the details that will become significant and apparent once the whole is created. Her writing is light and airy, while the content is not. She uses phrases that stop you in your tracks, as when Sunny experiences ‘a reverse déjà vu’. She employs the changing light and seasons in Finland, even the changing time of day to illustrate insidious allusions.

At times, Sunny is sleepless and haggard to the point of seeing imaginary faces, and she reminds me of the main character in Hunger, by Knut Hamsun. She faces confusion and a delirium that rushes her forward, headlong into the events as they unfold. As she explores the cold outskirts of the hospital, we read:

“The tight face is a shield, it is the way her working self conceals this other, silent self, the one who roams alone out on the paths. It is a protection, but once she is out in the cold she feels it as pain across her forehead and jaw. She is ignoring the rustling memory of her own voice…It is precarious and loud, this humming act of ignoring the obsessive repetitions of the day.”

[Holly · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think you call this densely atmospheric and hauntingly visceral; weird, corporeal, gothic, kind of nasty. Maile Chapman never uses a another kind of metaphor when a gross bodily metaphor will do. She reminded me a little of Margaret Atwood - I can imagine an Alias Grace-sort of novel from Chapman in a few years. I think she wanted to take the reader deep inside a place and into the minds and aching bodies of some disturbed women, and though I don't think she quite pulled the novel as entirety together - it might have been too meandering and unfocused - I didn't dislike it. Here is an observation from near the end of the novel by one of the few male characters:

He believes now there is an evolutionary, biological caution at work, that when a person - a woman, he means - gives off the constant signal of need, requiring so much attention and so much care, with so much talk of pain and private things, that red flags should be triggered in the nervous systems of normal people. And that the impulse to get away is very strong and incidentally very normal, and that an environment in which so many of such women live together is an affront to normalcy. [. . .] Maybe the simplest explanation is that such women will suck and suck away at anyone else's energies. That not only will they give a weak, unfair exchange in return for the attention they need, but they will create even more pain as a comfort to themselves.

That also captures something I felt while reading: that red flag in my own system triggered by the claustrophobic atmosphere of the Suvanto asylum where these odd women lived their cold Finnish winters. If that was Chapman's intention then she succeeded.

[Jennifer · Rating 4 out of 5]

From my book review blog Rundpinne:[return][return]Intelligent, philosophical and beautiful, Your Presence Is Requested At Suvanto by Maile Chapman is a delicately woven tapestry of the women who live and work at Suvanto Sairaala in Finland with special emphasis on the Orvakki Ward. Chapman uses the changing seasons in Finland to correspond with the changing emotions in her characters, especially Nurse Sunny Taylor, and her reaction to the long winters in Finland. Set in a remote area of Finland, Suvanto is not an ordinary hospital for women, it began catering to the infirm and the wealthier women in the country who needed a break, but times are changing and the doctors have other plans. Chapman’s novel is not a quick read, it is meant to be slowly read, reflected upon, and discussed. The lives of her characters are as varied as their temperaments. Chapman does an excellent job illustrating how one can easily become institutionalized as well as giving the reader a sense of what life and medical care was pressed upon women in the 1920s. Your Presence Is Requested At Suvanto is a deeply philosophical novel, yet does not read as one, rather Chapman takes her time letting the reader fall into step with the patients and staff until the reader can visualize being in Suvanto. I highly recommend Your Presence Is Requested At Suvanto, especially to book discussion groups.

[Nina · Rating 3 out of 5]

Would've been better without the many mistakes in Finnish history and language.

[JennRa · Rating 2 out of 5]

Soporífero. Le doy dos estrellas por la narrativa de la autora que te hace sentir como si estuvieras allí, pero la historia en si es bastante aburrida y el "giro de tuerca" llega ya cuando quieres acabar con todos tus ancestros.

[Lori · Rating 2 out of 5]

Review copy from Publisher

Expectations. I think my expectations led me astray with this novel. Reading the advance praise for Your Presence is Requested at Suvanto set the stage for impossibly high standards. Seeing authors like Audrey Niffenegger say it was "unnerving and full of gorgeously written surprises and frightening marvels", and Junot Diaz claim that Chapman gave us "an eerie gift of a novel" using words like hallucinatory, ominous, and gothic to describe it, I couldn't help but think this book was going to creep me out and keep my mind moving through the middle of the night.

The novel starts off slow and sleepy, with a prologue from the joint points of view of people we have not yet met. They admit they have done something, something they are willing to share with us now, something they are not necessarily proud of, but felt compelled to do.

"We care only for ourselves...We love everything that we did...We are safe and happy now, and this is what we wanted."
It's a tale that takes place in early twentieth century Finland, in an old convalescent hospital that caters to women only, in an attempt to cure them of their "female problems".

So I tucked into the novel fully prepared to be chilled to the bone. I forgave the author for the first 50 or so pages, where she was still introducing us to Sunny, nurse to the female up-patients of Suvanto, and the women she looks after; Julia, with her gaudy rings and nasty behavior; Pearl, who enjoys playing her fellow sick-mates against one another with her game of favorites; and Mrs. Minder, a pyromaniac who tries to please. I also forgave her for the next 50 pages, in which we meet Dr. Peter Weber - the resident doctor who is hoping to test out the new "Weber Stitch" on the current female patients and also on the women with high risk pregnancies that he plans to incorporate into Suvanto.

See what I mean about setting the stage for expectations? I was mentally rubbing my hands together in anticipation.

150 pages and the novel is still slowly uncurling itself, not fully letting it's intentions be known, creating this uncanny sense of something BIG coming, right around the corner, if I would only just keep turning the pages. And I did. Oh, how I kept turning those pages.

Closing in around the 200th page, I was seriously beginning to wonder if I had wasted my time with this novel. I had less than 70 pages to go and nothing had really happened. I had reached the end of my rope. Chapman's teasing had gone on too long, had worn me out, with nothing to show for it....

But then, Chapter 13 slapped me across my face. It just reached right out and slapped me. HERE was something! Something BIG. Something I didn't see coming. Something I didn't think the author was capable of doing.

I began reading with renewed interest and the further I read, the more convinced I became that this, this chapter, was the catalyst for something even BIGGER. Hold on to your seats, ladies and gentlemen, this could become a very bumpy ride.

Only, it ended sort of .. meh .. for me. The story never really packed the punch that I thought it would. Or could. And I was left a bit confused and exasperated by the time I read the last line.

If you like slow meandering stories that take their time and won't frighten or surprise you, then you will find a lot to like here. Chapman can certainly tell a story!

Thanks must go out to Graywolf Press, who continue to treat me wonderfully, and supplied me with this review copy. We can't always expect to like everything we read, can we? Though I did give this one a fighting chance.

[Neil McCrea · Rating 5 out of 5]

In the 1989-90 school year I took an amazing course at The Evergreen State College, The Classical World. It was one interdisciplinary course that filled up my entire credit load for the year. We studied Greek, Roman and early Christian history, literature, philosophy and art, along with a language module studying Latin. This course had a dramatic impact on my future intellectual thought and literary endeavors. I made friends that year who are still very, very dear to me. One student, whom I failed to keep in touch with, was particularly memorable. Not only was she a formidable academic, but she seemed a more self actualized individual than the rest of the drunken ne'er do wells that made up my circle. She immediately struck me as someone who was going to kick ass in her future life. Maile Chapman was that student.

While I was updating my own modest literary achievements on an alumni site, I noticed Maile's novel Your Presence is Requested at Suvanto. Although I'm hardly the target demographic for a historical Gothic novel set in Finland and with sharp feminist themes, almost everything in the book appealed to my sensibilities. I've worked my way through most of the Gothic canon, and I was intrigued by the idea of a Radcliffean novel about feminine space under siege as viewed through a modern feminist lens. Also, I have a great fondness for Finland despite having only a dilletante's knowledge of Finnish history and culture.

The novel exceeded all my expectations. It is a story of excruciating claustrophobia, social isolation and cultural alienation. Minor indignities, real and perceived slights, and a changing medical and social perception of women's bodies all slowly build to a deeply unnerving climax. To top it off I was delighted to discover that the novel is patterned after Euripedes' The Bacchae, and that in the acknowledgements Maile talks about studying it in the very class that we shared together.

Highly recommended.

[Sara Habein · Rating 3 out of 5]

How could I resist a title like Your Presence is Requested at Suvanto? I’m a sucker for a good, long title, and with a cover blurb comparing the Maile Chapman to Patricia Highsmith, I knew I had to read it. Trouble is, I over-hyped myself based on the title alone. Perhaps having already been desensitized to Highsmith-esque macabre, the book felt understated by comparison. But though the degree of my appreciation may have faltered, I did enjoy immersing myself in the unfamiliar environment.

It’s a well-written book, a well-told book, but also a particular sort of book. With much of the action taken off-stage, it’s certainly unlike any book I’ve read in quite awhile. Is the Highsmith comparison apt? Perhaps. There is no outrage or revulsion when it comes to blood or moral questions, though Chapman is nowhere near as sinister. For a lot of readers, that’s a good thing — and presumably Chapman herself does not have the misanthropic worldview that Highsmith did.

I would welcome reading Maile Chapman’s other work. Though Suvanto is a different book, it does not make a big show out of being different. It is what it is, and that, I really respect.

(Full review can be found on Glorified Love Letters.)

[Anne]

I don't know how to rate this book. The liner notes called it an intellectual thriller but I call it an intellectual puzzle. It was ponderous until about halfway through and I only kept reading because the atmosphere was a little Gothic, almost hallucinatory and I wanted to see where on earth that would lead. About halfway through the tone and texture changed and seemed, though it was actually describing more tension, more relaxed. There were many assumptions on the part of the writer--including the assumption that readers would be able to follow some of the hallucinatory moments or that it was clear why the up-patients were really in the hospital. It had an air of "secret and intimate and shameful female problems" but very little was spelled out. For someone who isn't totally familiar with Finnish attitudes toward those secret, intimate and shameful female problems and the euphemisms associated with them this created a feeling of "what the.... is she talking about?" The events that I guess are supposed to be the thrilling or horrifying ones just don't register at that scale. In fact, after I finished it I felt a little as I did the first time I read "The Turn of the Screw".
The way she uses language is interesting and engaging--I'm just not sure where it led me or what happened on the way there.

[Jenni · Rating 2 out of 5]

Received this book as a first-reads through Goodreads around April 20th, 2010.
Finally finished this book! It was hard for me to continue reading it for more than 30 minutes at a time, which generally causes me to loose interest in the book. Someone asked me what the book was about when I was only a few chapters from the end and I really didn't know how to respond other than to say it is about a Hospital in Finland that has a part of it devoted to what are called "up-patients" in a setting similar to a spa. The story revolves around a nurse new to Suvanto named Sunny and a few of the patients she deals with on a daily basis. I finished the book still not sure what it was really about. It seemed to be more of me reading the play-by-play of someones everyday life than a story with a beginning, middle and end.
I am glad to have read it, it was interesting, but I can't say that I'll recommend it to any of my friends or family. I think Ms. Chapman has a good writing ability and maybe in the future her books will be more climactic.

[Anne Sanow · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wonderfully creepy, atmospheric, claustrophobic, and elegant all at once. Maile Chapman succeeds in conjuring a setting so palpable as to be a character in its own right (almost at the risk of being more interesting than some of the human characters). And in general, I love what she's doing with language: the tone has a formality to it that stops short of the stilted voice that some writers think they need to assume when writing historical fiction; I love the little pops where Chapman speaks out to the reader, or offers a speculation. With this comes a few caveats: the pluralized first-person segments are reminiscent of Andrea Barrett's recent novel The Air We Breathe—for my taste, too similar given the similar settings, even though I understand what Chapman was going for and why she does it. The speculative nature of the prose also gets sloppy in the denouement, just where it shouldn't. Better to dare to try than to play it safe, though, and Chapman gets my respect for that.

[Linda B · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a very odd book. Although I read the entire book, I am still not sure what it is about. There is a "rest home" of some sort and women come there to stay and be treated. At first I thought it was a nursing home for the elderly, but then women started to come to have babies and female surgery.

I felt like I was just outside of the story and that suddenly things would become clear, but that never happened.

[Vivian · Rating 1 out of 5]

Not sure how to even comment. The storyline was so convoluted that I couldn’t figure out what was supposed to be going on. We’re the patients physically or mentally ill, both, or neither? Why were some of them there? What did Dr Peter do that was so terrible? Was Sunny messed up and where was she when the incident took place with Dr Peter? I finished the book and still don’t know what it was supposed to be about. Colossal waste of my time.

[Sharron Grodzinsky · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dark and brilliant

An unusual story with breathtaking descriptions of people and places. How can you describe an ordinary scene so that every detail can be imagined? It happens in this book. In addition, there is a rather dire, dark unexpected twist at the end.

[John Vanderslice · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a very curious novel; and a great adventure into the past and another part of the planet for your average housebound American reader. It tries to accomplish a great deal, and mostly does. The subject of the novel is not an everyday subject: the struggles of middle-aged women patients, and one particular American nurse, at a combination hospital/retreat center in Finland in the 1920s. Certainly not an everyday subject for a young American fiction writer to embrace for her first novel. Yet Chapman does embrace that subject and works it fairly masterly, with the confidence and lyricism of a much older writer. It helps that Chapman researched her subject matter thoroughly and had it down pat. One can feel in the sentences her deep familiarity both with the hospital (based on a real one) and the country. Most curious is the novel's structure. I wasn't sure for a while, but finally accepted her choice. She alternates between straight third person limited chapters in which she's developing her major characters and their inner struggles, and chapters written in a first person plural voice meant to capture the consciousness of the entire patient population. A daring and unexpected combination, especially for a first novel. I'm still not sold on it, but I'd love to talk with her about why she did that. Whatever your reservations might be, this is a book well worth owning and reading. Julia, one of the patients and the second most important character in the novel, is one of the most memorable characters I've come across in a long long time. Her and Olive Kitteridge could make quite a team.

[Connie N. · Rating 2 out of 5]

I did not understand this book at all. The synopsis suggested that this was a mystery, and I was expecting some sort of crime followed by an investigation and, eventually, a solution. However, this book is also very much a character study surrounding the patients at a high-class European hospital/spa. We meet several of the regular patients who all seem to be bored and lonely older women, indulging themselves in various treatments. Sunny is the main nurse in charge of the floor. My dissatisfaction with the whole book was that it was completely depressing. The women are generally unhappy, which spreads from person to person, including the staff. What a totally unhealthy place for these women to live. Occasionally we'd hear from a husband or other outsider who would point this out, but their opinions were ignored. In addition, this book didn't seem to have any purpose. It followed several women who lived petty and pointless lives, took unnecessary treatments, and generally lived in a bubble. I'm not sure if it was the fact that it was set in Finland or not, but I found myself confused much of the time. I kept asking myself...what is the reasoning here? Why is this included in the story? What is its significance? And I rarely found any answers. All in all, this was a big disappointment. The "fraught dynamic" and a "tense and atmospheric" novel wasn't delivered. And the "story's escalating menace builds to a terrifying conclusion" totally overstated what actually happened. I'd call this a sad and unhappy book which left me with an unsatisfied feeling at the end.

[Krista · Rating 3 out of 5]

Teid nõutakse Suvantosse.
Nüüd ja kohe.
Mis siis, et elu siin
on pikaldane,
on pikaldased päevad ja ööd
täis kuum-magusaid mälestusi ja kibekülma valu.

Teid nõutakse Suvantosse.
Tulge juba.
On väikesed rõõmud
suurte murede keskel.
Kapriisi mähitud kurbus ja õõv.
Naiselikkus rebitud haprast vananevast kehast.

Teid nõutakse Suvantosse.
Te jääte siia
kus hägustub piir arsti ja haige,
selge silmapilgu ja ravimihägu,
reaalsuse ja unenäolise vahel,
kus sündmuste ahel kogub hoogu, et
eksponentsiaalselt kiirust kogudes kihutada
põhjamaisesse tähistaevasse.

[Catherine Riley · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was one strange book. I could not determine if the character worked on a psych ward or a regular hospital. Maybe that was the author's intent. the characters were rather strange too. I just could not get into the book.

[SMcMahon · Rating 3 out of 5]

An interesting perspective of a nurse working in a Finnish convalescent facility. The brief view into Finnish lifestyle was enjoyable. The writing seemed disjointed and at a few points, was confusing. The characters are interesting, however, overall it was a mediocre read.

[Mckochan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Other than my new, irrational desire for a sauna, I really enjoyed this book.

[Fran Carter · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5

[Noodlefox · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found this book on a "horror novels you might not have read" kinda list and the description sounded very interesting, but after having actually read it I really wouldn't call it a horror novel. I wouldn't even really call it a thriller. There are certainly some sad and tense moments and a few little disturbing snippets here and there, especially at the beginning, but for the most part the book felt very tame. This doesn't mean it wasn't interesting, it was enough to easily hold my attention through the entire thing, but I wouldn't go into it with the thought that you're going to get something horrifying.

Aside from just being nicely written and having decent characters with a decent story it was written in an interesting way. It's a 3rd person present tense viewpoint (whatever you would call that) and while it took me a few pages to get used to the style once I did I found it to be a really fun way to read. I really enjoyed it and thought the author did a good job with it. I can imagine it would have gotten irritating if it hadn't been in the hands of someone who knew what to do with it.

One negative for me was the ending. Without spoiling anything I felt like the book went from 0 to 60 in the last 40 pages or so. It went from nothing really significant happening to all of a sudden this horrible climax (that would have been more fitting of a horror novel), but it just didn't feel earned. I didn't feel like any of the characters really built up to that conclusion, or that anything in the story really alluded to what had happened. I don't feel like if I read through it again that there would be some subtlety to it that would leave the last few pages making sense. Maybe that's due to me not fully grasping the tone of what I'm reading, but if that's the case it just leaves me wondering if I could really recommend the book to the average reader.

All in all I found it enjoyable and I don't regret the time I invested in it though I don't think I would be picking it up again anytime soon.

[J · Rating 4 out of 5]

BEWARE of spoilers. One man's bookflap summary is another man's spoiler.

Could not decide whether to give this three or four stars.

Yes, I liked it a lot in certain ways. But not in every way.

This is a story set in an isolated convalescent hospital for women in Finland. Most of the action happens during winter, when the patients and staff are further cocooned indoors against the cold.

The lead character, Sunny, is an American nurse at the facility, which is called Suvanto. She is reserved, has difficulty connecting with others, but is highly competent.

Without giving too much away, the author herself and some of the jacket blurbs compare this story to "The Shining," another winter-based tale."

"Your Presence" probably gets my award for book taking the longest time to get to its climax. But the plot is not necessarily the most interesting aspect of the book.

The long build-up allows the reader to get to know the quirks of many of the patients and staff members. There's some concern when word gets around that Suvanto -- which had functioned almost as a hideaway for women with perhaps minor ailments who don't like their lives -- is going to start taking maternity patients.

As with "The Shining," it's not clear even at story's end, precisely what happened during the linchpin event (the turning point).

Chapman's language throughout is so calm and cadenced, I almost felt I was hypnotized or in a dream state. She at times takes great length to describe small actions, which slows the pace. Her descriptions of the environments (man-made as well as natural) are painstaking and sometimes exquisite, even when she's describing something as mundane as a stairwell or supply room.

At times I felt like I feel when I read a densely written passage in the Wall Street Journal or in a Henry James novel. There's always a lot going on -- subtle though it may be -- but sometimes I'm just not up to squeezing every drop from the material. (I read this book off and on, for about three weeks, which might have contributed to my foggy comprehension. But I did think my pace was in keeping with the story's own "metabolism.")

Not sure how much it enlightens to call this a "feminist" novel, which one bookjacket endorsement does. By what standard feminist? Just that practically all the characters are women, each in some hormonal stage of life? And the women at one point "take charge," so to speak? If that is the case, it's diluting the term "feminist" to the point of useless.

Postscript: I live in Las Vegas. Chapman received her doctorate fr. University of Nevada, Las Vegas. The book edition I read mentions the UNLV credit in the inside bio, but not on the back outer cover. The cover's bio blurb focuses more on her MFA. Suggests to me that either the author or publisher is not so proud of her UNLV credential. No surprise.

[Teresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nominated for The Guardian's First Novel Award 2010, the story is set in the 1920s in a remote part of Finland. We are introduced to the elderly residents of a rather exclusive ward in a women's convalescent hospital. However, these patients are not so much physically sick as sick of life, their aptly named Up-Ward is designated for upwardly mobile foreign ladies who can afford to spend most of the day lying in bed, having their meals served, having mostly unnecessary treatments for minor illnesses. There are some genuine cases - remnants of syphillis, gynaecological complaints but for the most part, this group are content to enjoy the spa-like ambiance of Suvanto.

However, despite the beautiful surroundings, all is not well...the natives are restless. Julia, newly arrived at Suvanto, is determined to be difficult.

"...she interrupts the conversation at her table when she's heard enough speculation about the consistency of the pudding or the weight of the cake. Surely, good God, they could come up with something more interesting."

Sunny Taylor, the not so sunny American Staff Nurse, seems so alone in this remote location. Personal happiness eludes her as she fails to acclimatise to life in Finland. Dr Weber is anxious to clear out the malingerers and pave the way for a maternity unit so he can practise his Caesearean technique.

This is a subtle, understated, slow-moving novel but all the chillier for it. There are whispering voices in the wings, in the form of a Greek chorus of patients who we first encounter in the Prologue.

"...then we'll tell you all about that winter, including the early deaths, some say preventable, some say one, some say three, that happened at Suvanto."

This creepy chorus keeps us informed about the daily routine at Suvanto and the subtle changes which come with the changing seasons.

There's something very refreshing about Chapman's writing in this impressive debut novel. Everything is very focussed and as crisp as the frozen Finnish landscape. Some readers may find the pace sluggish at times but I loved the intensity of the narrative. Now I just need to read something set in warmer climes to get rid of the chill in my bones!

[Bungo · Rating 3 out of 5]

Odd book! The prose is quite unusual and successful for the most part but sometimes gets a little tedious. I finished it feeling slightly confused - there seems to be an incremental build up to the final events, then they happen and are more or less glossed over, then returned to but you're not sure what's true and what isn't. The narrator appears to be a patient at the hospital or at least it's the voice of someone who was maybe there once but it gives an off-kilter edge to the whole thing which is in keeping with the idea of the book as a whole but also meant that I couldn't fully get into it.
The premise is that it's set in a convalescent hospital in Finland in the 20s and we spend most of the book with the "up patients" who are mainly wealthy wives of American businessmen. Looking after them is Sunny, an American nurse who is so repressed it's a wonder she doesn't fracture apart when she ties her cap on every day.
It is atmospheric and with some good character studies (Pearl and Julia especially) but because the climax of the book is so sudden and close to the end, some actions just jar.
Julia Dey is the new patient who arrives at Suvanto and stirs things up a bit and most of the "action" revolves around her but it all starts too late and finishes too abruptly to make this a really satisfying read.

[Daisy · Rating 4 out of 5]

3 and 3/4 stars.

Let's see how this sits with me now that I've finished it. I need to mull it over a bit. For now I take away images of ginger cookies and snow, clean sheets and saunas, ice and gravestones.

Everything's got a mist over it; it's a blurry story. I liked spending time with it though, even though I didn't like so many of the characters. It's kind of beautiful.

It's a mysterious (and misty) story that's not really a mystery. It seems as though nothing happens until the end of the book. The structure is unusual in that you meet characters who are pivotal almost 2/3 of the way through. It's kind of told inside out. You never get to know anyone very well really and most of the characters are unlikeable, except for maybe Sunny, a nurse, or Laimi, a patient. Everybody else is a spoiled, hysterical, self-indulgent child-woman with a mysterious, female ailment on the top floor of a gothic hospital in the remote woods of Finland. Is it a hospital or is it a kindergarden? A mad house or a spa?

(Sunny: I don't know how to be around people who don't need me. p.231)

from Amy Henry's review: The pace can be deceptive, as Chapman is knitting together the details that will become significant and apparent once the whole is created.