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Mordet på Halland
Bess and Halland live in a small town, where everyone knows everyone else. When Halland is found murdered in the main square the police encounter only riddles. For Bess bereavement marks the start of a journey that leads her to a reassessment of first friends, then family.
187 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2009
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About the author
Pia Juul
51 books14 followersPia Juul was a Danish poet, prose writer and translator. She received several prizes and was a member of the Danish Academy. She also taught at the Danish writing school Forfatterskolen in Copenhagen
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 124 reviews
March 16, 2020
”I recognized the handwriting. I couldn’t breathe. That’s enough. Secret pregnant nieces. Secret rooms. And what kind of secret was this? Maverick? I know what goes on in Halland’s mind. I fell in love with him, of course I know. I can read his slightest passing thought; I can sense him without touching. I can hear the modulations in his voice when we speak on the phone, and I know exactly what each of them means. Such is true love.”
I once read that when people we know die we don’t mourn their loss as much as we mourn the loss of our self that existed when we were with them. It sounds selfish, but we see the world from our perspective, and everything that happens to us has to be first evaluated as to how this new development is going to affect us. Bess is no different, maybe more so.. For most of this book I was unsure how she really felt about Halland. She cared about his well being of course, but was it more about the fact that he payed the bills and allowed her to continue to exist in her own world of writing, reading, and contemplation?
”WHO SHOT HALLAND? asked the headline.”
Bess did.
Well that is what the man first on the scene said. He thought he heard Halland say My wife has shot me.
”Everyone avoids seeing a man born, everyone runs to see him die”. Montaigne, ESSAYS
We know Bess didn’t shoot him, but then Bess isn’t his wife. Although she is confused about her status as well. When she is first told about Halland she says she is his wife and then later she says she is not his wife. She’s lived with him for ten years so for all intents and purposes she is his wife except maybe in the eyes of the church.
This book will fool you in so many little ways and mostly that is Bess’s fault.
She doesn’t answer direct questions she doesn’t respond even when the police detective is asking questions that will help him find out who murdered Halland. She isn’t the slightest bit interested, except maybe abstractly, in who killed Halland. Despite this fact, she keeps finding out things that would aid the police if only she would share those revelations. Halland has secrets, as alluded to in the quote at the beginning of this review. He has a pregnant “niece” (depending on who the father is that designation might need a slight correction) living in a flat that he pays for. He keeps a secret room there filled with some of his belongings. A wall sized poster of The Return of Martin Guerre is on the wall. It was his favorite movie and is there a clue hidden in his obsession with that movie?
‘I won’t do it!’ ‘Do what?’ he asked. ‘Whatever they expect me to do. I won’t!’
That might be the best summation of Bess’s life. Independent, obstinate, and unwilling to cooperate with anyone or anything even before she knows what is expected. It would be easy to see how this attitude mixed with heavy drinking would cost her a marriage and a place in her daughter’s life. Her first thought when she learned Halland was dead was to talk to her daughter Abby. A child, now grown, suspended in time. Unexpectedly Abby shows up...good timing...bad timing? Bess isn’t sure, but it adds to her weariness.
”I felt too exhausted for the Grand Reconciliation. I no longer had the energy to contemplate how that might happen. Perhaps we had already reconciled without my noticing.”
Bess can’t handle much in the way of emotional pressure. She does have an outlet for relief that I can identify with.
”I loved reading and had always thought of it as a refuge. I even read the labels on bottles, if only to keep myself occupied on trains or in restaurants. I read in bed at night. If I lay awake for more than two minutes after switching off the light, I switched it on again to avoid lapsing into thought. To avoid thinking.”
In a moment of frustration, laced with fear Bess asks Abby for an evaluation.
‘Do you recognize me? Do I talk like your mother did when you were a child? Am I more human now, or still a monster? Or the other way round? What am I? Can you tell me who I am?’ For a moment she didn’t respond. ‘You’re a bit dippy,’ she said.
I laughed out loud. Here is this grand moment when Abby has been given the opportunity to really clear the air with her mom and she sums her up rather succinctly.
As Bess’s stress levels increase, she becomes focused and hyper sensitive to the most mundane things around her. It leads to wonderful passages like this one.
”I rested my cheek against the windowpane and relished the brief chill, pressing my face hard against the glass, moving my lips across it. Could I taste anything? The glass tasted of metal. Soft, soft, dark. Soft, dark. I mustn’t make the taste sound luscious. I was frightened, really frightened. I have tried to come to terms with my physical self since I was born, just as I assume everyone else has with greater or lesser success.”
Pia Juul is a poet, prose writer, and translator from Denmark. Another one of these fine Scandinavian writers that keep appearing out of the fjords. This book, because it is hard to peg, is going to be read by people with expectations of finding themselves immersed in a murder mystery. There is a murder and there is an investigation, but Juul is much more interested in Bess. I didn’t even particularly like Bess... that is immaterial. She is such a wonderful character study. I was endlessly fascinated watching her reactions to events. It was such brilliant and refreshingly honest writing that I simply marveled at the audacity of Juul to go away from the formula, and leave her readers slightly confused, giddy, and wanting more.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com
I also have a Facebook blogger page at:https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten
I once read that when people we know die we don’t mourn their loss as much as we mourn the loss of our self that existed when we were with them. It sounds selfish, but we see the world from our perspective, and everything that happens to us has to be first evaluated as to how this new development is going to affect us. Bess is no different, maybe more so.. For most of this book I was unsure how she really felt about Halland. She cared about his well being of course, but was it more about the fact that he payed the bills and allowed her to continue to exist in her own world of writing, reading, and contemplation?
”WHO SHOT HALLAND? asked the headline.”
Bess did.
Well that is what the man first on the scene said. He thought he heard Halland say My wife has shot me.
”Everyone avoids seeing a man born, everyone runs to see him die”. Montaigne, ESSAYS
We know Bess didn’t shoot him, but then Bess isn’t his wife. Although she is confused about her status as well. When she is first told about Halland she says she is his wife and then later she says she is not his wife. She’s lived with him for ten years so for all intents and purposes she is his wife except maybe in the eyes of the church.
This book will fool you in so many little ways and mostly that is Bess’s fault.
She doesn’t answer direct questions she doesn’t respond even when the police detective is asking questions that will help him find out who murdered Halland. She isn’t the slightest bit interested, except maybe abstractly, in who killed Halland. Despite this fact, she keeps finding out things that would aid the police if only she would share those revelations. Halland has secrets, as alluded to in the quote at the beginning of this review. He has a pregnant “niece” (depending on who the father is that designation might need a slight correction) living in a flat that he pays for. He keeps a secret room there filled with some of his belongings. A wall sized poster of The Return of Martin Guerre is on the wall. It was his favorite movie and is there a clue hidden in his obsession with that movie?
‘I won’t do it!’ ‘Do what?’ he asked. ‘Whatever they expect me to do. I won’t!’
That might be the best summation of Bess’s life. Independent, obstinate, and unwilling to cooperate with anyone or anything even before she knows what is expected. It would be easy to see how this attitude mixed with heavy drinking would cost her a marriage and a place in her daughter’s life. Her first thought when she learned Halland was dead was to talk to her daughter Abby. A child, now grown, suspended in time. Unexpectedly Abby shows up...good timing...bad timing? Bess isn’t sure, but it adds to her weariness.
”I felt too exhausted for the Grand Reconciliation. I no longer had the energy to contemplate how that might happen. Perhaps we had already reconciled without my noticing.”
Bess can’t handle much in the way of emotional pressure. She does have an outlet for relief that I can identify with.
”I loved reading and had always thought of it as a refuge. I even read the labels on bottles, if only to keep myself occupied on trains or in restaurants. I read in bed at night. If I lay awake for more than two minutes after switching off the light, I switched it on again to avoid lapsing into thought. To avoid thinking.”
In a moment of frustration, laced with fear Bess asks Abby for an evaluation.
‘Do you recognize me? Do I talk like your mother did when you were a child? Am I more human now, or still a monster? Or the other way round? What am I? Can you tell me who I am?’ For a moment she didn’t respond. ‘You’re a bit dippy,’ she said.
I laughed out loud. Here is this grand moment when Abby has been given the opportunity to really clear the air with her mom and she sums her up rather succinctly.
As Bess’s stress levels increase, she becomes focused and hyper sensitive to the most mundane things around her. It leads to wonderful passages like this one.
”I rested my cheek against the windowpane and relished the brief chill, pressing my face hard against the glass, moving my lips across it. Could I taste anything? The glass tasted of metal. Soft, soft, dark. Soft, dark. I mustn’t make the taste sound luscious. I was frightened, really frightened. I have tried to come to terms with my physical self since I was born, just as I assume everyone else has with greater or lesser success.”
Pia Juul is a poet, prose writer, and translator from Denmark. Another one of these fine Scandinavian writers that keep appearing out of the fjords. This book, because it is hard to peg, is going to be read by people with expectations of finding themselves immersed in a murder mystery. There is a murder and there is an investigation, but Juul is much more interested in Bess. I didn’t even particularly like Bess... that is immaterial. She is such a wonderful character study. I was endlessly fascinated watching her reactions to events. It was such brilliant and refreshingly honest writing that I simply marveled at the audacity of Juul to go away from the formula, and leave her readers slightly confused, giddy, and wanting more.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com
I also have a Facebook blogger page at:https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten
Read
November 2, 2018I was on a journey.
I'd taken a big book along: The Man Who Loved Dogs
It turned out not to be what I wanted to read just then.
Panic!
No book shops on the way.
What to do?
------------
Open the Kindle app on the trusty iPad and look through the mixed bag of titles.
The Murder of Halland?
Can't remember when or why I bought it but I start reading it anyway.
------------
The sentences are short.
The narrative voice is quirky.
The characters are enigmatic.
The mystery itself even more so.
There is a dog but I let that pass.
------------
I'm already half-way through.
------------
I'm finished!
But I still haven't got to the end of my journey.
Back to the less interesting book in my bag: The Man Who Loved Dogs.
-----------
Take out the iPad again just to check the time.
Perhaps a little glance at goodreads?
-----------
Journey over.
-----------
I'm off on a journey again tomorrow.
I've packed several books.
Something for every mood.
------------
I never did finish The Man Who Loved Dogs.
I'd taken a big book along: The Man Who Loved Dogs
It turned out not to be what I wanted to read just then.
Panic!
No book shops on the way.
What to do?
------------
Open the Kindle app on the trusty iPad and look through the mixed bag of titles.
The Murder of Halland?
Can't remember when or why I bought it but I start reading it anyway.
------------
The sentences are short.
The narrative voice is quirky.
The characters are enigmatic.
The mystery itself even more so.
There is a dog but I let that pass.
------------
I'm already half-way through.
------------
I'm finished!
But I still haven't got to the end of my journey.
Back to the less interesting book in my bag: The Man Who Loved Dogs.
-----------
Take out the iPad again just to check the time.
Perhaps a little glance at goodreads?
-----------
Journey over.
-----------
I'm off on a journey again tomorrow.
I've packed several books.
Something for every mood.
------------
I never did finish The Man Who Loved Dogs.
April 7, 2018
The furniture seemed all wrong.
This sentence from Chapter 3 is indicative of Juul's style, a matter-of-fact telling that leads to surreality, appropriate to the state of mind of the grieving narrator, Bess. She's also trying to deal with (or not deal with, as the case may be) some facts about her common-law husband, Halland, that have come to light after his death.
I finished this last night (the chapters end on mini-cliffhangers, forcing you to turn the page) and though it was late, and going against my wiser (sleepy) self, I started it over and reread it in one go. Though it is short on pages, it is full -- trembling at the brim -- and one could write a paper on it that would probably be as long as the book. It is amazing what we miss when we read something the first time and then what jumps out at us the second time: the (crucial?) moments Bess tells us she is cold; her notice of various (named) birds singing at different times; the blues and greens of the fjord and of eyes.
I don't consider this a murder mystery at all; don't read it if you need answers. It's concerned with one of the most real-of-real themes: the unknowability of those you are closest to and even of yourself. As a couple, Bess and Halland watched TV murder mysteries. As a widow (or is she one, since she wasn't married, she asks), she assures us those detective shows are nothing like real life (what concerns her most about the detective on Halland's case is where did he get such a dark tan, it being only May). It's the puzzle of them that attracts her, not the solution.
This sentence from Chapter 3 is indicative of Juul's style, a matter-of-fact telling that leads to surreality, appropriate to the state of mind of the grieving narrator, Bess. She's also trying to deal with (or not deal with, as the case may be) some facts about her common-law husband, Halland, that have come to light after his death.
I finished this last night (the chapters end on mini-cliffhangers, forcing you to turn the page) and though it was late, and going against my wiser (sleepy) self, I started it over and reread it in one go. Though it is short on pages, it is full -- trembling at the brim -- and one could write a paper on it that would probably be as long as the book. It is amazing what we miss when we read something the first time and then what jumps out at us the second time: the (crucial?) moments Bess tells us she is cold; her notice of various (named) birds singing at different times; the blues and greens of the fjord and of eyes.
I don't consider this a murder mystery at all; don't read it if you need answers. It's concerned with one of the most real-of-real themes: the unknowability of those you are closest to and even of yourself. As a couple, Bess and Halland watched TV murder mysteries. As a widow (or is she one, since she wasn't married, she asks), she assures us those detective shows are nothing like real life (what concerns her most about the detective on Halland's case is where did he get such a dark tan, it being only May). It's the puzzle of them that attracts her, not the solution.
August 13, 2012
This is not your regular Scandinavian crime story. Pia Juul might be from Denmark and the book has ‘murder’ in the title, yet this murder is like the hole in a bagel – it’s right in the centre of it but it’s the stuff around it that actually matters.
Bess, Halland’s widow, narrates the story as she were sleep-walking. As a reader, you are pulled into this strange tale where things don’t follow a rigid cause-effect structure and you don’t even realise it until you close the book and wake up.
Retelling the plot of it would be like retelling a dream – “and then her estranged daughter came, and Bess’s ex-husband wanted to have sex, the neighbour went missing, and there was the pregnant niece again, and then there was a dog”. It only makes sense when you are in the dream.
Is Bess really grieving, or is she just going mad? Maybe she is cold, detached and self-centered? I believe she really was grieving. The way her brain bombarded her with even most bizarre thoughts is symptomatic for someone experiencing some sort of trauma (but not very good at vocalising their emotions). On the other hand, Bess is a very unreliable narrator and I am very gullible. Maybe she murdered Halland? But maybe Halland set it all up? Maybe he had an affair? Maybe Bess had an affair?
Not having simple answers might be frustrating but not in this case (or maybe I am just eternally patient, now that I have quit my job and can sleep late everyday?). It is not that you are given jigsaw puzzles that will never make a complete picture. They can actually make a few different pictures depending on how you rotate them. As every postmodernist would tell you – the book now belongs to you.
I wonder where the dog went to.
Bess, Halland’s widow, narrates the story as she were sleep-walking. As a reader, you are pulled into this strange tale where things don’t follow a rigid cause-effect structure and you don’t even realise it until you close the book and wake up.
Retelling the plot of it would be like retelling a dream – “and then her estranged daughter came, and Bess’s ex-husband wanted to have sex, the neighbour went missing, and there was the pregnant niece again, and then there was a dog”. It only makes sense when you are in the dream.
Is Bess really grieving, or is she just going mad? Maybe she is cold, detached and self-centered? I believe she really was grieving. The way her brain bombarded her with even most bizarre thoughts is symptomatic for someone experiencing some sort of trauma (but not very good at vocalising their emotions). On the other hand, Bess is a very unreliable narrator and I am very gullible. Maybe she murdered Halland? But maybe Halland set it all up? Maybe he had an affair? Maybe Bess had an affair?
Not having simple answers might be frustrating but not in this case (or maybe I am just eternally patient, now that I have quit my job and can sleep late everyday?). It is not that you are given jigsaw puzzles that will never make a complete picture. They can actually make a few different pictures depending on how you rotate them. As every postmodernist would tell you – the book now belongs to you.
I wonder where the dog went to.
January 5, 2014
Well, here is a mystery with a difference. A victim with secrets..not new. But his secrets even appear to have secrets. And Bess, Halland's long-time partner, has a complicated past of her own. And unlike most of the genre, the emphasis here is more on the telling than on resolution. And what telling.
Each chapter begins with a brief quote from a written work varying from Raymond Chandler to a line from Meunch. All highly readable and also pertinent to the text. Ah the text! Bess is a writer and there are moments of her writerly eye taking in the morning sun striking the water of the fjord. Beautiful images. The plot...what is the plot HA! The murder of course but so much happens and so much is confusing. The Murder of Halland is sort of a non-linear murder mystery. Things happen and the impact is sometimes not felt for some time---especially the emotional impact.
Oh please read it. It's not traditional in many ways but it contains the traditional elements---just stood a bit on their heads. What a good way to read them.
A shout out to Kris for recommending this!
Each chapter begins with a brief quote from a written work varying from Raymond Chandler to a line from Meunch. All highly readable and also pertinent to the text. Ah the text! Bess is a writer and there are moments of her writerly eye taking in the morning sun striking the water of the fjord. Beautiful images. The plot...what is the plot HA! The murder of course but so much happens and so much is confusing. The Murder of Halland is sort of a non-linear murder mystery. Things happen and the impact is sometimes not felt for some time---especially the emotional impact.
Oh please read it. It's not traditional in many ways but it contains the traditional elements---just stood a bit on their heads. What a good way to read them.
A shout out to Kris for recommending this!
May 20, 2015
.
What a strange, strange little book.
Any aficionado of detective stories is surely bound to be disappointed. All sorts of questions are raised but hardly any of them are answered. For me the book has serpentine threads and unfinished endings, rather than any sort of solid linear structure.
We experience a kind of stream-of-consciousness with Bess. She is the narrator of the book and partner of a man – Halland – who has just been shot. Bess’s ideas and mullings are eccentric and erratic, and we lurch with her from odd situation to odd situation – with family, with neighbours, with Halland’s step-daughter (and possibly his lover as well. ) I found Bess quite bizarre, but everyone in the book seemed to accept her on her own terms.
I am someone who likes closure, especially when enticing mysteries are opened up. Halland - as we discover him in this book - was a man of huge mysteries. Yet we never solve any of them. I went back and re-read passages to see if I could glean anything further, but all was still opaque. Also what was happening between Bess and her daughter Abby? And Bess and her ex-husband Traols? And Bess and Brandt her neighbour? All these threads emerged and then just hung in the air.
I enjoyed the book though. It was hugely readable. Would I have enjoyed it so much if I’d realised that there was not going to be any sort of closure? Probably not......
What a strange, strange little book.
Any aficionado of detective stories is surely bound to be disappointed. All sorts of questions are raised but hardly any of them are answered. For me the book has serpentine threads and unfinished endings, rather than any sort of solid linear structure.
We experience a kind of stream-of-consciousness with Bess. She is the narrator of the book and partner of a man – Halland – who has just been shot. Bess’s ideas and mullings are eccentric and erratic, and we lurch with her from odd situation to odd situation – with family, with neighbours, with Halland’s step-daughter (and possibly his lover as well. ) I found Bess quite bizarre, but everyone in the book seemed to accept her on her own terms.
I am someone who likes closure, especially when enticing mysteries are opened up. Halland - as we discover him in this book - was a man of huge mysteries. Yet we never solve any of them. I went back and re-read passages to see if I could glean anything further, but all was still opaque. Also what was happening between Bess and her daughter Abby? And Bess and her ex-husband Traols? And Bess and Brandt her neighbour? All these threads emerged and then just hung in the air.
I enjoyed the book though. It was hugely readable. Would I have enjoyed it so much if I’d realised that there was not going to be any sort of closure? Probably not......
August 23, 2014
Actually, there’s a great deal I haven’t mentioned. How could I possibly include everything? Nonetheless, there is something I haven’t mentioned which I must have left out on purpose. That’s the difference. Or perhaps there isn’t any difference. Perhaps I leave out the things I’m not aware of leaving out on purpose.What a clever, enigmatic, and downright brilliant book. With deceptive simplicity, Juul turns the murder mystery genre on its head—and then some. Her prose is very lucid, often with staccato rhythms that reminded me often of another Scandinavian author: the great Tove Jansson. Like Jansson, Juul is a brilliant wordsmith, fashioning texture more so than narrative or flow.
Although The Murder of Halland begins with a murder—and a rather Kafkaesque scene of public proclamation of guilt thrown on to the narrator, his common-law wife, Bess—those who read this novel to find out the whos, the whats, the wheres, the whys, and the hows will be gravely disappointed. (I hesitate to even add this title to my crime/mystery shelf here.) Instead, as I said above, Juul allows the initial murder to be the impetus for what flows forth, privileging texture over anything else.
Complete with a cast of bizarre characters, and with a humor so typically Scandinavian in its dark, sardonic way, this novel slowly builds to a consideration of how well we know others (“I knew everything about Halland. He was the love of my life. Did I hate him?”), and also how well we can know ourselves in a world that makes no sense whatsoever. An example of the strange juxtapositions that take place here that make this such a phenomenal work due to how it bends across genres so seamlessly: Bess picks up a notebook to write the usual whodunit suspect list, with motives and clues pointing to them. Immediately, however, she turns the page over and begins to write a to-do list so as not to forget to go grocery shopping or to clean her house. Juul is able to place similar types of discordant juxtapositions in both stream-of-consciousness as well as more dialogic passages, so the mood—which is hard to pinpoint or signify, existing both at the level of pathos and humor, grief and giddiness—stays wonderfully fluid throughout.
Epigraphs begin each chapter and indicate both Juul’s authorial debt as well as her thematic similarity to figures as wide ranging as Christa Wolf, Robert Walser, Raymond Chandler, Agatha Christie, Anne Carson, and Eugène Ionesco. At the same time, though, her prose is so cinematic in its registers that one can’t help but think of the surreal work of directors like David Lynch, where the uncanny side of everyday life is brought to the forefront and dreams and reality are indeterminable from one another. (Although I personally think the cinematic register in The Murder of Halland owes more to feminist surreal filmmakers like Lucrecia Martel whose work also came to mind while I was reading Juul’s novel.)
A remarkable and wholly original work: here’s to assembling a team of talented translators eager to begin translating more of Juul’s work into English soon so that we can enjoy the insights and the bewildering logic upholding the world as she presents it to us—and as it quite often is in reality as well.
December 29, 2016
Huh. This is a weird novella, from the perspective of a woman whose longtime partner is murdered. I hesitate to call it a mystery, since the crime isn't really solved. The writing is fine and there's some decent characterization here, but in the end neither the events nor the characters nor their relationships made a lot of sense to me, and I wasn't quite sure why it ended where it did. I suppose that's a bit like life. This book didn't do much for me, but it's short enough to read in a sitting if you're interested.
March 23, 2014
Full disclosure: This book is not a murder mystery, per se. There is a murder, there is an investigation, but there's no real resolution at the end, only more questions. The real mystery seems to be -- Who is Bess? Who is Halland? Did anything really happen, or is Bess just slowly going insane?
I have to admit that I couldn't give this one 5 stars even though the writing was stellar. Everything takes place inside Bess's very confused mind, and for this reader, it was an exhausting place to be. It took me 3 days to read a short 167 page book with very short chapters, because I just had to take a break from Bess's ramblings every so often. I must admit I loved the quotes that began each chapter and the way they related to the text.
I have to admit that I couldn't give this one 5 stars even though the writing was stellar. Everything takes place inside Bess's very confused mind, and for this reader, it was an exhausting place to be. It took me 3 days to read a short 167 page book with very short chapters, because I just had to take a break from Bess's ramblings every so often. I must admit I loved the quotes that began each chapter and the way they related to the text.
December 31, 2013
An antidote to the usual Scandanivian murder mysteries. Take every standard bit from the typical crime novel, insert, and then leave it flapping in the breeze. But it's a nice breeze. And the blue fjords are like trembling mirrors. In my mind, the protagonist narrator Bess is always wearing a baggy Nordic sweater just like Sarah's in Forbrydelsen. And somehow it all works.
March 15, 2020
Told in short, punchy sentences with an enigmatic narrative voice, this is a quick, and interesting read.
Bess and Halland live in a small Danish town, the sort of place where everyone knows everyone else, though that may only be on the surface. Bess left her husband and teenage daughter to be with Halland ten years earlier. Soon into the novel, Halland is shot dead, and in his death throes, overheard saying, ‘my wife killed me’.
Bess narrates, but has little interest in the murder investigation, as she grieves and tries to sort out her life.
The real skill in Juul’s writing is in her misdirection. The reader is not always sure what is happening. There is a sense of confusion, that mirrors the experience particular of a recently bereaved person. The atmosphere created parallels the struggle of her characters.
Don’t come into this expecting a whodunnit; instead its a captivating interpretation on grief and detachment.
It’s one of those books for which translation must have been incredibly difficult...
‘Turd’ is such a wonderful choice..
Bess and Halland live in a small Danish town, the sort of place where everyone knows everyone else, though that may only be on the surface. Bess left her husband and teenage daughter to be with Halland ten years earlier. Soon into the novel, Halland is shot dead, and in his death throes, overheard saying, ‘my wife killed me’.
Bess narrates, but has little interest in the murder investigation, as she grieves and tries to sort out her life.
The real skill in Juul’s writing is in her misdirection. The reader is not always sure what is happening. There is a sense of confusion, that mirrors the experience particular of a recently bereaved person. The atmosphere created parallels the struggle of her characters.
Don’t come into this expecting a whodunnit; instead its a captivating interpretation on grief and detachment.
It’s one of those books for which translation must have been incredibly difficult...
When I staggered out to the toilet, the wine and the train and the joy made me uncertain on my feet. And to my great delight I deposited the biggest, well-formed turd I had ever sent into the toilet bowl. I looked at it with contentment and was only sorry that I couldn’t tell anybody about it. And then, just as I was about to let it slide onto the tracks below, I realised that we were standing at a station. Flushing the toilet was forbidden.
‘Turd’ is such a wonderful choice..
June 8, 2012
The book begins with a murder. Soon detectives are on the scene, and the victim’s life is being unravelled piece by piece, revealing a double life and several people with possible motives.
But this is not your average detective novel. For one thing, The Murder of Halland is narrated in the first person by Halland’s widow, Bess. This makes a difference, because what we see is a very skewed view of the investigation. She discovers some things about Halland, like an apartment in Copenhagen he’d been renting, and a niece who’s pregnant with a child she suspects may be his. She withholds this, and other things, from the police, and is quite detached from the investigation in general. So we don’t get the usual examination of suspects and accumulation of evidence. We don’t get much of the police procedure at all, and we don’t get much sense of progress.
There’s a dreaminess to the narrative throughout. Bess is asleep when her husband is murdered and never seems to fully wake up. The first time a policeman arrives, he seems like a character from a dream, someone she’s seen before, parking his car opposite the house. He arrives, breathless, and shouting that he’s arresting her “in the name of the law”, before disappearing, never to be seen again. When the real police come later, they know nothing about him. The brief episode is slightly surreal and absurd.
Bess also doesn’t behave as a widow is supposed to behave. She worries about the fact that people don’t see her crying, and indeed some other characters comment that she doesn’t seem to be grieving properly. She goes out to a dance and gets drunk on aquavit. She kisses her neighbour on the lips. She examines the history of her relationship with her dead husband in a detached way, completely free of sentimentality. She throws Halland’s niece out of the house for grieving more than she is, and then fantasises about her being hit by a car.
The plot also frustrates the normal conventions, which are actually described within the book, as Bess sits down to make herself happy by watching a detective series:
"First a murder, nothing too bestial. Then a police inspector. Insights into his or her personal problems, perhaps. Details about the victim. Puzzles and anomalies. Lines of investigation. Clues. Detours. Breakthrough. Case solved. Nothing like real life."
She tries to make a list of the facts and lines of inquiry in her own husband’s case, but it means nothing to her, and she replaces it with a list beginning “Laundry. Groceries. Dry cleaning.”
This is a book in which the puzzles are not solved, the anomalies are not explained, and the lines of investigation are not pursued (at least within what we see from Bess’s viewpoint). There’s no breakthrough, and the ending is ambiguous, with the police selecting one probable suspect but the last few lines suggesting another possibility altogether.
Nobody behaves quite how you’d expect: the estranged daughter is surprisingly conciliatory, while the bitter ex-husband wants to sleep with her. The neighbour doesn’t react with surprise at being kissed, or really react in any way at all. The more hostile Bess is towards Halland’s niece, the more friendly she is in return. It’s all weird, and yet it all rings true, because in real life people are weird and they do behave in unexpected ways.
Which brings me back to what makes this book “literary”. Bess does not behave in ways that are looked at approvingly. She doesn’t do the things that grieving widows are supposed to do. Similarly, the other characters defy convention. They behave in ways that surprise us, challenging our expectations rather than reinforcing them.
The effect on the plot is to make it unsatisfying by normal standards. There’s no rising tension, no breakthrough, no neat resolution. Strands appear to be going somewhere, and then break off. The neighbour is abducted, but then turns up again. Bess finds that Halland transferred a huge amount of money to her account shortly before his death, but this is never explained. The daughter turns up after years of separation, but there’s no big confrontation or reconciliation, and then she goes away again. Everything seems like an anticlimax.
And yet, it works. I think it works because it feels true. I’m reminded of something E.M. Forster wrote in Aspects of the Novel, about the tussle between character and plot – does the author want to give a satisfying plot and corral the characters into doing what he/she wants, or be true to who the characters really are and what they would really do, which may be less satisfying plot-wise? In genre fiction I think the plot often wins out, but in literary fiction it’s about character.
In The Murder of Halland, it’s definitely about character, and the result is something odd, sometimes frustrating, but ultimately successful.
But this is not your average detective novel. For one thing, The Murder of Halland is narrated in the first person by Halland’s widow, Bess. This makes a difference, because what we see is a very skewed view of the investigation. She discovers some things about Halland, like an apartment in Copenhagen he’d been renting, and a niece who’s pregnant with a child she suspects may be his. She withholds this, and other things, from the police, and is quite detached from the investigation in general. So we don’t get the usual examination of suspects and accumulation of evidence. We don’t get much of the police procedure at all, and we don’t get much sense of progress.
There’s a dreaminess to the narrative throughout. Bess is asleep when her husband is murdered and never seems to fully wake up. The first time a policeman arrives, he seems like a character from a dream, someone she’s seen before, parking his car opposite the house. He arrives, breathless, and shouting that he’s arresting her “in the name of the law”, before disappearing, never to be seen again. When the real police come later, they know nothing about him. The brief episode is slightly surreal and absurd.
Bess also doesn’t behave as a widow is supposed to behave. She worries about the fact that people don’t see her crying, and indeed some other characters comment that she doesn’t seem to be grieving properly. She goes out to a dance and gets drunk on aquavit. She kisses her neighbour on the lips. She examines the history of her relationship with her dead husband in a detached way, completely free of sentimentality. She throws Halland’s niece out of the house for grieving more than she is, and then fantasises about her being hit by a car.
The plot also frustrates the normal conventions, which are actually described within the book, as Bess sits down to make herself happy by watching a detective series:
"First a murder, nothing too bestial. Then a police inspector. Insights into his or her personal problems, perhaps. Details about the victim. Puzzles and anomalies. Lines of investigation. Clues. Detours. Breakthrough. Case solved. Nothing like real life."
She tries to make a list of the facts and lines of inquiry in her own husband’s case, but it means nothing to her, and she replaces it with a list beginning “Laundry. Groceries. Dry cleaning.”
This is a book in which the puzzles are not solved, the anomalies are not explained, and the lines of investigation are not pursued (at least within what we see from Bess’s viewpoint). There’s no breakthrough, and the ending is ambiguous, with the police selecting one probable suspect but the last few lines suggesting another possibility altogether.
Nobody behaves quite how you’d expect: the estranged daughter is surprisingly conciliatory, while the bitter ex-husband wants to sleep with her. The neighbour doesn’t react with surprise at being kissed, or really react in any way at all. The more hostile Bess is towards Halland’s niece, the more friendly she is in return. It’s all weird, and yet it all rings true, because in real life people are weird and they do behave in unexpected ways.
Which brings me back to what makes this book “literary”. Bess does not behave in ways that are looked at approvingly. She doesn’t do the things that grieving widows are supposed to do. Similarly, the other characters defy convention. They behave in ways that surprise us, challenging our expectations rather than reinforcing them.
The effect on the plot is to make it unsatisfying by normal standards. There’s no rising tension, no breakthrough, no neat resolution. Strands appear to be going somewhere, and then break off. The neighbour is abducted, but then turns up again. Bess finds that Halland transferred a huge amount of money to her account shortly before his death, but this is never explained. The daughter turns up after years of separation, but there’s no big confrontation or reconciliation, and then she goes away again. Everything seems like an anticlimax.
And yet, it works. I think it works because it feels true. I’m reminded of something E.M. Forster wrote in Aspects of the Novel, about the tussle between character and plot – does the author want to give a satisfying plot and corral the characters into doing what he/she wants, or be true to who the characters really are and what they would really do, which may be less satisfying plot-wise? In genre fiction I think the plot often wins out, but in literary fiction it’s about character.
In The Murder of Halland, it’s definitely about character, and the result is something odd, sometimes frustrating, but ultimately successful.
August 4, 2020
At one point in this book, Bess, the narrator, criticizes TV murder mysteries - with their neat solutions and tidy plots, they do not reflect real life. Presumably, Bess would give her creator 5 stars as this is a crime novel(la) which raises more questions than it gets to answer. Juul is primarily interested in showing us the impact of Halland's death on the people around him, particularly Bess (his wife/partner - she's not even sure how she should describe herself). The underlying theme is that the greatest mysteries are not the trivial matters such as "who killed whom", but rather the secrets which we tend to keep from our loved ones.
Told with a wry humour which works surprising well in (Martin Aitken's) translation, and punctuated with various literary quotes which provide an oblique counterpoint to the plot, this is a novel which, at its end, will leave you unsure whether to applaud it or throw the book against the wall (though this wasn't much of an option in my case since I was reading it on my tablet...)
Told with a wry humour which works surprising well in (Martin Aitken's) translation, and punctuated with various literary quotes which provide an oblique counterpoint to the plot, this is a novel which, at its end, will leave you unsure whether to applaud it or throw the book against the wall (though this wasn't much of an option in my case since I was reading it on my tablet...)
August 17, 2021
If the thought of ever picking up this short novella hits you like a well-flung dart onto a dartboard, remember this.
It is not your conventional crime story, nor is it thrilling. It is anything but that.
It is deeply psychological and intimately real.
To start off, you meet Bess, this middle-aged writer who has a flair for letting her mind wander and experience the entirety of the story through her eyes. She wakes up one day to discover her partner has been murdered in cold blood.
It begins then, Bess' eyes seeking the reason behind Halland's murder and through this search, the discovery of things that are superficial and intimate, physical as well as psychological on a deep level.
As I said, Bess is a writer and I had a feeling she reflects the author. In addition to reading Juul's writing (through Aitken's translation), we experience the world as Bess sees it.
Her thoughts are poetic and sing with harmony as she describes what her mind comes up with at different levels throughout the book. I felt that immensity of admiration/resentment that Bess feels, it's rare that emotion translates well but it really does in this case.
It is wonderfully done, from cover to cover. It brings to the surface a very rare kind of grief, Grief that cannot be felt but is surely present.
The story adopts themes of conventional crime thrillers but then flips it around to present the audience entirely new.
If you're big on conclusions and absolute endings, this might not be the book for you.
To the rest, I invite you to try.
It is not your conventional crime story, nor is it thrilling. It is anything but that.
It is deeply psychological and intimately real.
To start off, you meet Bess, this middle-aged writer who has a flair for letting her mind wander and experience the entirety of the story through her eyes. She wakes up one day to discover her partner has been murdered in cold blood.
It begins then, Bess' eyes seeking the reason behind Halland's murder and through this search, the discovery of things that are superficial and intimate, physical as well as psychological on a deep level.
As I said, Bess is a writer and I had a feeling she reflects the author. In addition to reading Juul's writing (through Aitken's translation), we experience the world as Bess sees it.
Her thoughts are poetic and sing with harmony as she describes what her mind comes up with at different levels throughout the book. I felt that immensity of admiration/resentment that Bess feels, it's rare that emotion translates well but it really does in this case.
It is wonderfully done, from cover to cover. It brings to the surface a very rare kind of grief, Grief that cannot be felt but is surely present.
The story adopts themes of conventional crime thrillers but then flips it around to present the audience entirely new.
If you're big on conclusions and absolute endings, this might not be the book for you.
To the rest, I invite you to try.
September 21, 2016
The Murder of Halland, written by Denmark’s ‘foremost literary author’ Pia Juul, is a lovely addition to the Peirene Press family. First published in Denmark in 2009, the novella has won Denmark’s most prestigious literary prize, Danske Banks Litteraturpris. This English edition has been translated by Martin Aitken.
The Murder of Halland is told from the first person perspective of author Bess Roe, who, at the outset of the book, states that one views the dawning of spring mornings with indifference when ‘you haven’t slept and your limbs feel stiff and your mind is full and empty all at once’, and ‘everything seems out of sorts’. Her narrative voice is rather a chatty one and we are launched into hers and her husband Halland’s life immediately.
The story begins the night before Halland disappears. He leaves the house quite early one morning, and Bess finds out about the consequences of this when she is arrested for his murder. Bess is astounded, telling the reader that she ‘was astonished not so much that I had been accused but rather that Halland was the one who had been shot. I didn’t believe it’. One of the first scenes in the book – in which she conducts a normal conversation with her mother about her estranged daughter and poorly grandfather in England, and then says ‘Halland’s dead’ almost as an afterthought – shows her concurrent disbelief and bluntness about his sudden murder.
Bess herself seems rather confused as the novel progresses, telling two policeman that Halland, whom she had at first confessed to be her husband, and she were ‘not married’ but had ‘lived together for ten years’. She is a well built up character and we as readers feel such sympathy for her. After a visit from two policemen, asking whether Bess had any involvement in Halland’s murder, she says ‘I lay down on the living-room floor. There was no space anywhere else’. Juul’s writing is both matter-of-fact and heartrending, and she is able to masterfully build up atmosphere and add to the story using just a few words and phrases. Another example of this can be found in the passage in which Halland’s niece Pernille turns up at Bess’ home. Here, Bess utters ‘My hands were shaking because I had shouted the word dead. Only a simple word. But I shook because the word described the truth. Halland was dead’.
The Murder of Halland follows Bess and her journey into the depths of bereavement, including the ways in which it alters her: ‘Perhaps I would never want to think about writing again. That belonged to the past and didn’t matter any longer’. We meet Halland himself only briefly, and see more of him in death than in life. The section in which Bess goes to identify his body is a poignant one: ‘He looked the same and yet he didn’t. I both knew him and didn’t know him. I was his and he was mine, only now we weren’t. We were both alone’. A mystery ensues, in which Bess tries to find out more about Halland, the circumstances of his death and the secrecies of his life.
Quotes have been included at the start of each chapter from a wealth of sources, ranging from Swedish ballads to essays by Montaigne, A Concise History of Denmark and a novel by Agatha Christie. Whilst these quotes only form small fragments, they really do add a rich dimension to the book. The story becomes deeper as it progresses and what looks like a straightforward crisis on the surface bubbles with turmoil, concealment, silence and grief.
Aitken has managed to capture Bess’ narrative voice wonderfully, and not a word feels out of place. The incredibly well written novella seems both contemporary and classic in its style at once, and is a wonderful book to read all in one sitting, or to be savoured one chapter at a time.
The Murder of Halland is told from the first person perspective of author Bess Roe, who, at the outset of the book, states that one views the dawning of spring mornings with indifference when ‘you haven’t slept and your limbs feel stiff and your mind is full and empty all at once’, and ‘everything seems out of sorts’. Her narrative voice is rather a chatty one and we are launched into hers and her husband Halland’s life immediately.
The story begins the night before Halland disappears. He leaves the house quite early one morning, and Bess finds out about the consequences of this when she is arrested for his murder. Bess is astounded, telling the reader that she ‘was astonished not so much that I had been accused but rather that Halland was the one who had been shot. I didn’t believe it’. One of the first scenes in the book – in which she conducts a normal conversation with her mother about her estranged daughter and poorly grandfather in England, and then says ‘Halland’s dead’ almost as an afterthought – shows her concurrent disbelief and bluntness about his sudden murder.
Bess herself seems rather confused as the novel progresses, telling two policeman that Halland, whom she had at first confessed to be her husband, and she were ‘not married’ but had ‘lived together for ten years’. She is a well built up character and we as readers feel such sympathy for her. After a visit from two policemen, asking whether Bess had any involvement in Halland’s murder, she says ‘I lay down on the living-room floor. There was no space anywhere else’. Juul’s writing is both matter-of-fact and heartrending, and she is able to masterfully build up atmosphere and add to the story using just a few words and phrases. Another example of this can be found in the passage in which Halland’s niece Pernille turns up at Bess’ home. Here, Bess utters ‘My hands were shaking because I had shouted the word dead. Only a simple word. But I shook because the word described the truth. Halland was dead’.
The Murder of Halland follows Bess and her journey into the depths of bereavement, including the ways in which it alters her: ‘Perhaps I would never want to think about writing again. That belonged to the past and didn’t matter any longer’. We meet Halland himself only briefly, and see more of him in death than in life. The section in which Bess goes to identify his body is a poignant one: ‘He looked the same and yet he didn’t. I both knew him and didn’t know him. I was his and he was mine, only now we weren’t. We were both alone’. A mystery ensues, in which Bess tries to find out more about Halland, the circumstances of his death and the secrecies of his life.
Quotes have been included at the start of each chapter from a wealth of sources, ranging from Swedish ballads to essays by Montaigne, A Concise History of Denmark and a novel by Agatha Christie. Whilst these quotes only form small fragments, they really do add a rich dimension to the book. The story becomes deeper as it progresses and what looks like a straightforward crisis on the surface bubbles with turmoil, concealment, silence and grief.
Aitken has managed to capture Bess’ narrative voice wonderfully, and not a word feels out of place. The incredibly well written novella seems both contemporary and classic in its style at once, and is a wonderful book to read all in one sitting, or to be savoured one chapter at a time.
December 20, 2015
Opening quote:
May they come together,
happy in heart forever,
who long to be as one! SWEDISH BALLAD (trad)
Opening: The night before, we sat in the living room. I had coffee; he drank a beer. We watched a police drama. 'I wouldn't mind looking like her,' I said, referring to the detective, Danish TV's only mature heroine. 'You don't, though, do you?' I looked over at him. Women's faces shrivel; men acquire substance. 'You've acquired substance,' I said. 'Where?' he asked, worried. 'Ha ha ha,' I laughed, mockingly.
This is number eight in a series and I ordered it not because it is a series I have been following, but because some flisters have returned positive reviews and high star ratings. 3* and up is a good result, isn't it. This is also a book that qualifies for IMPAC 2014.
Books in this Peirene Press collection where the strapline is fab: 'Two-hour books to be devoured in a single sitting: Literary cinema for those fatigued by film.'
May they come together,
happy in heart forever,
who long to be as one! SWEDISH BALLAD (trad)
Opening: The night before, we sat in the living room. I had coffee; he drank a beer. We watched a police drama. 'I wouldn't mind looking like her,' I said, referring to the detective, Danish TV's only mature heroine. 'You don't, though, do you?' I looked over at him. Women's faces shrivel; men acquire substance. 'You've acquired substance,' I said. 'Where?' he asked, worried. 'Ha ha ha,' I laughed, mockingly.
This is number eight in a series and I ordered it not because it is a series I have been following, but because some flisters have returned positive reviews and high star ratings. 3* and up is a good result, isn't it. This is also a book that qualifies for IMPAC 2014.
Books in this Peirene Press collection where the strapline is fab: 'Two-hour books to be devoured in a single sitting: Literary cinema for those fatigued by film.'
September 29, 2016
Literary fiction meets murder mystery (though the intersection of those two is not exactly uncommon) - works better as literary fiction than as a murder mystery, and unfortunately I was in the mood for murder. Nothing here really distinguishes itself; it's decent, but that's about it.
Go read a Tana French novel instead.
Go read a Tana French novel instead.
March 15, 2016
для цієї маленької книжки, яка починається з покійника, настільки неважливо, хто вбивця, що нам нічого й не кажуть прямим текстом. важливо, мабуть, про жінку покійного та її переживання, але вона занадто нудна й несимпатична, щоб хоч трохи перейнятися. якось так.
December 10, 2022
I started off lukewarm on this Danish psychological novella but at the end, am wondering who I can entice to read this so we can discuss. May need to reread. An unreliable narrator who is a writer questions reality in the wake of her partner's death. Who shot or murdered Holland becomes almost immaterial. I can almost almost get Pia Juul's sly winks (this is not a detective crime thriller meta wink) but like the ample literary references, they're just a hair's breath from being pinned down. At times Bess in her existential crisis is unrecognizable to herself and others dear/familiar to her undergo the same metamorphosis. With the fjord as backdrop, this has an unmistakably Nordic feel with its attendant dark foreboding and isolation.
Translated from Danish by Martin Aitken. Pia Juul is also a poet and writer of short stories, with deliberate word choices and a sparse writing style.
Quotes:
Quotes:
Labarnum. Lilac. Drizzle. I needed the rhythm of words to penetrate the headwind.
I never found that the words people say to each other revealed to any great extent what happened between them.
Translated from Danish by Martin Aitken. Pia Juul is also a poet and writer of short stories, with deliberate word choices and a sparse writing style.
Quotes:
Quotes:
Labarnum. Lilac. Drizzle. I needed the rhythm of words to penetrate the headwind.
I never found that the words people say to each other revealed to any great extent what happened between them.
April 12, 2025
This, for me, was a most unusual book. Crime, so far as there has been a crime (Halland has been shot dead) but any investigation is a mere aside to the fallout for writer Bess, his partner. In the space of this tight narrative Juul unpacks the uncomfortable relationship between Halland and Bess.
Whether this is written in a playful or ironic way never became clear to me. A first person telling is always going to send up "unreliable narrator" signals but I enjoyed being in her hands with her own methods of discovery and grieving. Nothing is resolved yet for the short time spent reading this I felt I inhabited Bess and her perspective of past and present.
Curious and original
Whether this is written in a playful or ironic way never became clear to me. A first person telling is always going to send up "unreliable narrator" signals but I enjoyed being in her hands with her own methods of discovery and grieving. Nothing is resolved yet for the short time spent reading this I felt I inhabited Bess and her perspective of past and present.
Curious and original
March 13, 2016
This is prose rather like John Le Carre's, all the economy of thriller / crime writing but none of the clumsiness, excavating the psychological strata of character with a skill that plenty more ostentatious authors don't have. Juul's focus in this 'existential murder mystery' is less on events and case, though. Its similarity to The Killing - which proves to be in the still rather novel way it follows the progress of investigation from the shaky[cam] perspective of Bess, grieving for her murdered partner (much like all the time covering the family in series 1)– is announced in the first paragraph. We watched a police drama. 'I wouldn't mind looking like her,' I said, referring to the detective, Danish TV's only mature heroine. (Not that it seems that way here, when most of the Danish TV we've seen is outstanding in that respect, Sarah Lund, Birgitte Nyborg and The Bridge.)
This is foremost a book about grief in bewildering circumstances, having become unmoored from normal life, flailing and splashing about trying to follow some approximation of it. I love the way it plays with unreliable narrator conventions . And very unusually for a novel whose protagonist is an author, it’s never precious about this: Bess could almost have any freelance job. Though unfortunately it still does that thing too many suspense narratives do, which I’m tiring of, temporarily withholding information in unnatural ways.
It knows where its focus is, yet there were still a few of the fascinating local details I love in translated texts. That the house (in a village) uses bottled gas, and about the process of changing the canisters, and an old superstition about the cuckoo as a harbinger of death.
The style is ostensibly straightforward, but there are other subtle little games going on in the text, which you can read into if you wish. One involves the meticulously chosen epigraphs for each chapter, from various Danish and European authors. I was particularly struck by one from Christa Wolf; Bess at one point also reads a book by Wolf. I’ve not yet read much of CW, but found in the early part of City of Angels a similar directness and strength, alongside an awareness of ageing and outsider / observer. I’d guess she’s a significant influence on Pia Juul.
This is a book of the unexplained and of loose ends, sometimes as if you’d temporarily dropped in on Bess’ own thoughts put into clean prose - in which she wouldn’t, of course, have to infodump everyone’s back story. (It’s also evident that she’s too exhausted to have to keep explaining everything.) A lot of books these days promise an intriguing mixture of literary and genre, but very few deliver as well as The Murder of Halland. The most engrossing of the Peirene Press novellas I’ve read so far, and if anything, it feels more powerful several hours after I've finished it.
This is foremost a book about grief in bewildering circumstances, having become unmoored from normal life, flailing and splashing about trying to follow some approximation of it. I love the way it plays with unreliable narrator conventions . And very unusually for a novel whose protagonist is an author, it’s never precious about this: Bess could almost have any freelance job. Though unfortunately it still does that thing too many suspense narratives do, which I’m tiring of, temporarily withholding information in unnatural ways.
It knows where its focus is, yet there were still a few of the fascinating local details I love in translated texts. That the house (in a village) uses bottled gas, and about the process of changing the canisters, and an old superstition about the cuckoo as a harbinger of death.
The style is ostensibly straightforward, but there are other subtle little games going on in the text, which you can read into if you wish. One involves the meticulously chosen epigraphs for each chapter, from various Danish and European authors. I was particularly struck by one from Christa Wolf; Bess at one point also reads a book by Wolf. I’ve not yet read much of CW, but found in the early part of City of Angels a similar directness and strength, alongside an awareness of ageing and outsider / observer. I’d guess she’s a significant influence on Pia Juul.
This is a book of the unexplained and of loose ends, sometimes as if you’d temporarily dropped in on Bess’ own thoughts put into clean prose - in which she wouldn’t, of course, have to infodump everyone’s back story. (It’s also evident that she’s too exhausted to have to keep explaining everything.) A lot of books these days promise an intriguing mixture of literary and genre, but very few deliver as well as The Murder of Halland. The most engrossing of the Peirene Press novellas I’ve read so far, and if anything, it feels more powerful several hours after I've finished it.
February 11, 2013
It’s a crime story, but the crime is in the background; the real story is the effect of bereavement on Bess, Pia Juul’s protagonist. When first we meet Bess, she goes to bed shortly after her partner Halland. When she wakes, it’s to discover that Halland has been shot dead. For the rest of the novella, Bess has to live with the aftermath of Halland’s murder, and hope that she can come to some sort of new equilibrium in life.
The Murder of Halland is a fine character study (and Martin Aitken’s translation from the Danish is equally so) which, like a kaleidoscope, keeps turning to reveal something new. One of our first discoveries is that Bess’s personal life is not as happy and untroubled as we may have supposed. She left her husband and daughter behind for Halland, and is still not on best terms with her family (she says she has her mother’s number on speed dial ‘to warn me if she rang’ [p. 16]). But nor was she fully at ease with Halland – Bess loved him, but he could be possessive (‘if I hadn’t been besotted by him, staying would have pointless’ [p. 17]).
As the novella progresses, it becomes clear just how much of a hole Halland’s death has left in Bess’s life. She wants to keep his memory to herself, and treats interlopers with hostility. ‘He’s not your family!’ she tells Pernille, the foster-daughter of Halland’s sister – though, as the two never married, Bess wasn’t technically Halland’s family either; and she hasn’t exactly been concerned with her own family, either. That cry against Pernille is more about Bess than Halland. Likewise, she feels threatened by things which disrupt her image of Halland; like the office he rented in Pernille’s house, whose contents Bess puzzles over (including a poster for La Retour de Martin Guerre, perhaps a symbol of Bess’s not knowing her partner as well as she thought).
But it’s also the case that we as readers don’t know Bess as well as we might think. She is at pains to stress that she’s not telling us everything, but just what is she not saying? Bess’s motivations are not always clear, and sometimes we can see a gap between her words and reality (for example, the impression we gain of Bess’s daughter Abby from her descriptions is not what we see when Abby arrives in person). We’re left with a sense of incompleteness (though not, I don’t think, an unsatisfactory one), just as Bess feels the gaps in her life.
The murder itself is never fully cleared up (though, as I said at the outset, the murder is not the point); but there’s a sense towards the end that Bess has found her way forward. Whether we know everything she went through to get there is another matter – but Juul gives us a fascinating journey all the same.
The Murder of Halland is a fine character study (and Martin Aitken’s translation from the Danish is equally so) which, like a kaleidoscope, keeps turning to reveal something new. One of our first discoveries is that Bess’s personal life is not as happy and untroubled as we may have supposed. She left her husband and daughter behind for Halland, and is still not on best terms with her family (she says she has her mother’s number on speed dial ‘to warn me if she rang’ [p. 16]). But nor was she fully at ease with Halland – Bess loved him, but he could be possessive (‘if I hadn’t been besotted by him, staying would have pointless’ [p. 17]).
As the novella progresses, it becomes clear just how much of a hole Halland’s death has left in Bess’s life. She wants to keep his memory to herself, and treats interlopers with hostility. ‘He’s not your family!’ she tells Pernille, the foster-daughter of Halland’s sister – though, as the two never married, Bess wasn’t technically Halland’s family either; and she hasn’t exactly been concerned with her own family, either. That cry against Pernille is more about Bess than Halland. Likewise, she feels threatened by things which disrupt her image of Halland; like the office he rented in Pernille’s house, whose contents Bess puzzles over (including a poster for La Retour de Martin Guerre, perhaps a symbol of Bess’s not knowing her partner as well as she thought).
But it’s also the case that we as readers don’t know Bess as well as we might think. She is at pains to stress that she’s not telling us everything, but just what is she not saying? Bess’s motivations are not always clear, and sometimes we can see a gap between her words and reality (for example, the impression we gain of Bess’s daughter Abby from her descriptions is not what we see when Abby arrives in person). We’re left with a sense of incompleteness (though not, I don’t think, an unsatisfactory one), just as Bess feels the gaps in her life.
The murder itself is never fully cleared up (though, as I said at the outset, the murder is not the point); but there’s a sense towards the end that Bess has found her way forward. Whether we know everything she went through to get there is another matter – but Juul gives us a fascinating journey all the same.
March 19, 2015
У дамочки-писательницы убивают сожителя, после чего она пускается во все тяжкие и переосмысливает свою жизнь, по пути сетуя на вышеуказанного убитого и его секреты. В аннотации есть намек на детективную составляющую, но в лучшем случае «Убийство Халланда» – это слабенький психологический триллер. Кто и почему стал убийцей становится ясно почти в самом начале, причем на один конкретный намек тяжело закрыть глаза, ибо голова продолжает работать и по принуждению отключаться не умеет. Вместо того, чтобы раскрыть преступление и спать спокойно, датская полиция загорает на солнышке и несколько недель мусолит личные вещи убитого, хотя главный подозреваемый так и выпрыгивает из штанов, прося внимания.
Если совсем уж откровенно, то книга никакущая. Герои живут в городке, где все друг друга знают; главная героиня бредит, напивается и танцует, по мне так у нее просто слишком много свободного времени; все общение между персонажами-картонками сводится к неуместным восклицаниям и характеризуется полнейшим отсутствием эмоциональных связей. Единственный момент, заставивший меня ненадолго поверить в то, что не все потеряно – это воссоединение матери с дочерью после долгих лет отчуждения. Остальное взаимодействие сводится к истеричным вскрикам, бессмысленным фразам и импульсивным движениям. Зачем было дважды выставлять за порог беременную женщину и отчего она так на нее набросилась – кто ее разберет, эту Бесс. Это еще цветочки, ведь если задуматься, то весь городок эмоционально нездоров – начиная с приличненьких, скучненьких социопатиков, и заканчивая местной дамочкой с психическими отклонениями. Сочувствовать, сопереживать, волноваться – шта?! Вы этих дегенератов видели, у которых от избытка свободного времени мозги скукожились до того, что они все как один говорят нескладными простыми предложениями и бесцельно шатаются по округе?
Можно и нужно свалить часть вины за неудобоваримый текст на перевод. Я даже допускаю, что не все так грустно у самой Юль, и она вовсе не писала на датском «Я пожалась и помотала головой» или «Я прижалась губами к его лбу, я себя пересилила, это не было поцелуем, просто я не осмелилась поступить иначе». Но несостоятельные, плохо взаимодействующие герои, не связанные ничем, кроме картонных фраз – это точно заслуга автора. Скандинавская рефлексия тут сведена к бредовому потоку сознания, который читать чаще просто утомительно. Сложить образ главной героини из разрозненных импульсов так и не удалось, плюс возможных вопросов осталось больше, чем хотелось. Но все настолько скучно и уныло, что никаких ответов уже не надо. В топку.
annikeh.net
Если совсем уж откровенно, то книга никакущая. Герои живут в городке, где все друг друга знают; главная героиня бредит, напивается и танцует, по мне так у нее просто слишком много свободного времени; все общение между персонажами-картонками сводится к неуместным восклицаниям и характеризуется полнейшим отсутствием эмоциональных связей. Единственный момент, заставивший меня ненадолго поверить в то, что не все потеряно – это воссоединение матери с дочерью после долгих лет отчуждения. Остальное взаимодействие сводится к истеричным вскрикам, бессмысленным фразам и импульсивным движениям. Зачем было дважды выставлять за порог беременную женщину и отчего она так на нее набросилась – кто ее разберет, эту Бесс. Это еще цветочки, ведь если задуматься, то весь городок эмоционально нездоров – начиная с приличненьких, скучненьких социопатиков, и заканчивая местной дамочкой с психическими отклонениями. Сочувствовать, сопереживать, волноваться – шта?! Вы этих дегенератов видели, у которых от избытка свободного времени мозги скукожились до того, что они все как один говорят нескладными простыми предложениями и бесцельно шатаются по округе?
Можно и нужно свалить часть вины за неудобоваримый текст на перевод. Я даже допускаю, что не все так грустно у самой Юль, и она вовсе не писала на датском «Я пожалась и помотала головой» или «Я прижалась губами к его лбу, я себя пересилила, это не было поцелуем, просто я не осмелилась поступить иначе». Но несостоятельные, плохо взаимодействующие герои, не связанные ничем, кроме картонных фраз – это точно заслуга автора. Скандинавская рефлексия тут сведена к бредовому потоку сознания, который читать чаще просто утомительно. Сложить образ главной героини из разрозненных импульсов так и не удалось, плюс возможных вопросов осталось больше, чем хотелось. Но все настолько скучно и уныло, что никаких ответов уже не надо. В топку.
annikeh.net
November 12, 2020
What a clever, enigmatic, and disorientating book!
Bess is a writer. A grieving, eccentric, bizarre writer who drinks more than she writes. Her husband Halland has been shot.
The story is told solely from Bess's point of view. Since she is drunk a lot of the time, this view can be skewed and whimsical, not to mention peculiar. Bess seems to be struggling and fighting her way out of a murky gloaming. She seems confused and disorientated. Is is just her way of dealing with loss?
Halland is Bess's second husband. She left her first husband and her daughter to be with Halland. She has been estranged from her daughter, Abby ever since. Recently, the handsome and much older Halland has been ill. Bess longs to be reconnected with her daughter...
First, let me state categorically that this is NOT a murder mystery. We don't know who killed Halland at the beginning of the book, nor do we know at the end. This is more a book about grief, guilt, and of course, love.
Even though the writing is wonderful and almost like the poetry that the author is famous for, I cannot in good conscience give this more than four stars. That doesn't mean that it is not deserving of more, only that my personal taste considers it just a bit too quirky to merit five. Bess was just too 'out there' for me to genuinely connect with her on a personal level.
I recommend this literary novella to everyone on the basis of the brilliant writing and the fact that reading it causes the reader to become ruminative and introspective.
Kudos go out to Martin Aitken who translated "The murder of Halland" from the Danish losing none of its profound nuances.
"The murder of Halland" won Denmark's most prestigious literary prize, Danske Banks Litteraturpris.
Thanks to Coach House Books via Edelweiss for providing me with a digital copy of this novella in exchange for my candid review.
Bess is a writer. A grieving, eccentric, bizarre writer who drinks more than she writes. Her husband Halland has been shot.
The story is told solely from Bess's point of view. Since she is drunk a lot of the time, this view can be skewed and whimsical, not to mention peculiar. Bess seems to be struggling and fighting her way out of a murky gloaming. She seems confused and disorientated. Is is just her way of dealing with loss?
Halland is Bess's second husband. She left her first husband and her daughter to be with Halland. She has been estranged from her daughter, Abby ever since. Recently, the handsome and much older Halland has been ill. Bess longs to be reconnected with her daughter...
First, let me state categorically that this is NOT a murder mystery. We don't know who killed Halland at the beginning of the book, nor do we know at the end. This is more a book about grief, guilt, and of course, love.
Even though the writing is wonderful and almost like the poetry that the author is famous for, I cannot in good conscience give this more than four stars. That doesn't mean that it is not deserving of more, only that my personal taste considers it just a bit too quirky to merit five. Bess was just too 'out there' for me to genuinely connect with her on a personal level.
I recommend this literary novella to everyone on the basis of the brilliant writing and the fact that reading it causes the reader to become ruminative and introspective.
Kudos go out to Martin Aitken who translated "The murder of Halland" from the Danish losing none of its profound nuances.
"The murder of Halland" won Denmark's most prestigious literary prize, Danske Banks Litteraturpris.
Thanks to Coach House Books via Edelweiss for providing me with a digital copy of this novella in exchange for my candid review.
January 23, 2013
A little gem and not really a crime novel, but very realistic and emotional as well as insightful into how grief is lived/experienced.
Whilst most crime thrillers are far better organised and far more real than one's own life, this story is not. And that is what I like about it most. Most of the story takes place in the grieving women's mind and is therefore a great psychoanalytical novel.
Whilst most crime thrillers are far better organised and far more real than one's own life, this story is not. And that is what I like about it most. Most of the story takes place in the grieving women's mind and is therefore a great psychoanalytical novel.
June 29, 2017
Pia Juul was amazing in her story telling. She takes you in the first person through the killing of Halland and you are never sure who killed him but you are left with ideas of who did it. This would have made a good Hitchcock movie. The ending makes you wonder even father if.....
January 26, 2013
Pretty disappointing to be honest. The main character I found pretty irritating, and the plot slightly unbelievable and contrived. Felt like it was trying really hard to be a bit abstract, but it failed in my opinion.
December 13, 2014
There is a moment when, later on in the book after things have started to get back to something like normal, our narrator, Bess, sits down to watch television:
Anyway the police do their duty, the body’s whisked away but rather than follow the detective and his investigations we stick with Bess and get to see how life treats her and how she treats… let’s just go with ‘widowhood’. Bess is a writer, a solitary sort—“[I] prefer to be on my own. I don’t like… people.”—and not a person I imagine one would warm to quickly and although she steers clear of her neighbours for the most part, it doesn’t look as if they dislike her half as much as she probably dislikes them. “Did I look like someone in mourning? Was I mourning?” she asks herself at one point.
The police don’t have much success in their enquiries. Things are missing—Halland’s laptop for one thing, his blue mobile and stuff out of his drawers in his office—but then things (and people) start to appear that make Bess question how well she knew Halland. It all starts with the extra set of keys but they’re quickly explained with the arrival of his pregnant niece—not technically his niece as she was a foster child—who’s more concerned about who will attend the birth with her (which Halland had, apparently, agreed to do) and pay the rent on the room in her Copenhagen flat he’d, apparently, been renting. Bess’s immediate concerns are, in no particular order: why was he renting a room? why’d he agreed to be the girl’s birth partner? was he the baby's father? and, most importantly, why was this the first she was hearing about any of this?
The questions begin to pile up. If only we had a nice, level-headed detective to make head or tail of them. But, no. We have Bess. Good ol’ unreliable Bess who says, “I seldom drink at all, and only in small quantities” but never seems to be without an aquavit in her hand. Without spoiling the plot—not that this is in any way a plot-driven novel—let me just tell you that if you expect all the suspects to be gathered in the drawing room in the final chapter and everything to be made clear then forget it. That’s not what this book is about. And most readers, I suspect, will think Juul goes too far. It almost feels that she wrote herself into a corner and then simply stopped writing only that’s a little uncharitable and I do understand where she’s coming from because when I found myself in a similar position with my novel Left my solution was to include an imaginary conversation where a possible solution is given but we never learn for sure what really happened. But that’s life! When someone dies we’ve had our last chance to ask them to answer the questions that only they know the answers to. And Halland is dead despite the fact someone keeps ringing Bess on his phone (once it finally turns up).
Peirene Press provide a reading guide for the book here and the last question on the list asks: Is it important to know who shot Halland? In truth? Yes, I think it is. Even though Bess and we may never know—which is true to life—that doesn’t mean it becomes unimportant. A man died for a reason. Of course finding out what happened is important. It’s what provides closure. And even though we don't need to know it’s better when we know for sure. So some people, those who’re used to more traditional forms of crime novel, will probably feel cheated by this book. But that’s all down to reader expectation. I’m sure the writer delivered exactly what she intended and was quite satisfied with the results.
All I needed for happiness was a detective series. And there were lots to choose from. Simplicity was a virtue. First a murder, nothing too bestial. Then a police inspector. Insights into his or her personal problems, perhaps. Details about the victim. Puzzles and anomalies. Lines of investigation. Clues. Detours. Breakthrough. Case solved. Nothing like real life. I watched one thriller, then another. But as soon as the penny dropped, I lost interest. The puzzle attracted me – the solution left me cold. Nothing like real life. When only the loose ends were left to tie up, I usually went into the kitchen to fetch something to eat, or went to the loo. But when I got back, the police inspector had almost invariably realized, at the last minute, that the amicable individual in whom he had been confiding was in fact the villain. In the twinkling of an eye, someone found themselves in grave danger. Their rescue involved a few last-gasp killings before the villain was allowed to explain his sick, jealous mind or the abuse he had suffered as a child. Nothing like real life. The plot might have started off plausibly, but then all similarity disappeared. And another thing: this crime thriller appeared far better organized and far more real than my own life.If that’s what you’re looking for in this “crime novel” then you might want to think again. Yes, there is a crime. It happens in the first couple of pages and if you like books that hit the ground running then you’ll have no complaints here at all: Halland is murdered—or killed since it’s not clear at first whether this is a murder or an accidental killing—found with a bullet wound in him outside his house and his last words reportedly are “My wife has shot me.” We, of course, know it can’t have been her because she was in the shower at the time. In fact she comes to the door in her (Halland’s actually) dressing gown to find a man—“I had no idea whether he was a clerk or a policeman”—trying to arrest her for her husband’s murder. He’s not the police. They arrive promptly enough and assess the situation. Technically Halland is not her husband—“does the word widowed apply when a person wasn’t married?” she wonders later on—but, of course, the assumption most people would make is that a couple living together were probably married.
Anyway the police do their duty, the body’s whisked away but rather than follow the detective and his investigations we stick with Bess and get to see how life treats her and how she treats… let’s just go with ‘widowhood’. Bess is a writer, a solitary sort—“[I] prefer to be on my own. I don’t like… people.”—and not a person I imagine one would warm to quickly and although she steers clear of her neighbours for the most part, it doesn’t look as if they dislike her half as much as she probably dislikes them. “Did I look like someone in mourning? Was I mourning?” she asks herself at one point.
The police don’t have much success in their enquiries. Things are missing—Halland’s laptop for one thing, his blue mobile and stuff out of his drawers in his office—but then things (and people) start to appear that make Bess question how well she knew Halland. It all starts with the extra set of keys but they’re quickly explained with the arrival of his pregnant niece—not technically his niece as she was a foster child—who’s more concerned about who will attend the birth with her (which Halland had, apparently, agreed to do) and pay the rent on the room in her Copenhagen flat he’d, apparently, been renting. Bess’s immediate concerns are, in no particular order: why was he renting a room? why’d he agreed to be the girl’s birth partner? was he the baby's father? and, most importantly, why was this the first she was hearing about any of this?
The questions begin to pile up. If only we had a nice, level-headed detective to make head or tail of them. But, no. We have Bess. Good ol’ unreliable Bess who says, “I seldom drink at all, and only in small quantities” but never seems to be without an aquavit in her hand. Without spoiling the plot—not that this is in any way a plot-driven novel—let me just tell you that if you expect all the suspects to be gathered in the drawing room in the final chapter and everything to be made clear then forget it. That’s not what this book is about. And most readers, I suspect, will think Juul goes too far. It almost feels that she wrote herself into a corner and then simply stopped writing only that’s a little uncharitable and I do understand where she’s coming from because when I found myself in a similar position with my novel Left my solution was to include an imaginary conversation where a possible solution is given but we never learn for sure what really happened. But that’s life! When someone dies we’ve had our last chance to ask them to answer the questions that only they know the answers to. And Halland is dead despite the fact someone keeps ringing Bess on his phone (once it finally turns up).
Peirene Press provide a reading guide for the book here and the last question on the list asks: Is it important to know who shot Halland? In truth? Yes, I think it is. Even though Bess and we may never know—which is true to life—that doesn’t mean it becomes unimportant. A man died for a reason. Of course finding out what happened is important. It’s what provides closure. And even though we don't need to know it’s better when we know for sure. So some people, those who’re used to more traditional forms of crime novel, will probably feel cheated by this book. But that’s all down to reader expectation. I’m sure the writer delivered exactly what she intended and was quite satisfied with the results.
May 19, 2024
Continua la saga delle letture apparentemente partorite dalla penna di scrittori che sembrano essere sotto una qualche influenza. Quei libri che finisco di leggere pensano 'che cavolo ho letto?'
Questo libro non capisco se è una geniata o solo un gran casino. La narrazione, dataci dalla protagonista, compagna della vittima, Halland (sta nel titolo), è assolutamente inaffidabile perché deriva dalla sua testa, dalle sue emozioni.
Il giallo in sé finisce per non essere un giallo vero e proprio, perché a Bess, il nostro problematico e unico pov, non interessa veramente sapere chi è stato ad ammazzare quello che, così capiamo, è stato l'amore della sua vita. Quindi l'omicidio possiamo risolverlo nella nostra testa una volta lette le pagine finali, ma rimarremo pieni di dubbi perché in Danimarca non hanno investigatori famosi, consulenti criminali o vecchiette troppo curiose.
Sicuramente alternativo come crime e se fosse solo per questo avrei potuto apprezzarlo meglio, ma la narrazione sconclusionata della voce narrante proprio non era di mio gusto.
Questo libro non capisco se è una geniata o solo un gran casino. La narrazione, dataci dalla protagonista, compagna della vittima, Halland (sta nel titolo), è assolutamente inaffidabile perché deriva dalla sua testa, dalle sue emozioni.
Il giallo in sé finisce per non essere un giallo vero e proprio, perché a Bess, il nostro problematico e unico pov, non interessa veramente sapere chi è stato ad ammazzare quello che, così capiamo, è stato l'amore della sua vita. Quindi l'omicidio possiamo risolverlo nella nostra testa una volta lette le pagine finali, ma rimarremo pieni di dubbi perché in Danimarca non hanno investigatori famosi, consulenti criminali o vecchiette troppo curiose.
Sicuramente alternativo come crime e se fosse solo per questo avrei potuto apprezzarlo meglio, ma la narrazione sconclusionata della voce narrante proprio non era di mio gusto.
January 19, 2018
I picked up The Murder of Halland because I've never seen a novella that was also a murder mystery, and yes, I was looking for a short uncomplicated read. However, what I found was supremely unusual and odd in a delightful way. As Bess's story is in first person it seems impossible that she could have any insights into the crime of her husband's murder, yet her interactions with people bring clues to the reader and the enigmatic ending left me laughing. I almost feel like I should read it again.
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