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Again an idea that deserves 35 pages and becomes a novel. And what a peculiar one! Orstavik’s polar Norway is full of zombies unable to connect to anyone. The relationship-freak monster mother who spends not a thought on his son; the fun house boy who misses a one-night stand while the price would be some proper talk; people letting in strangers to their homes and then letting them go with no further consequences: and many other alienated strangers in a freezing Norwegian winter night.
Celebrated by the most hideous European writer (Knausgaard) ‘Love’ is a pointlessly menacing one with bad pacing but strong images and efficient prose. Because of these Martian-like Norvegians you can not feel any compassion for the fake victims and can not contact to this artificial novel in any point. I struggled more with the 3 hrs 33 min running time than the complete works of Bernard Malamud. Loads of effort go sour and good poetry leaves a bad taste in your mouth. But I think the translation is radiant.
Narrator was too cheerful for such a darkness. Like licking a pink lollypop while reading. I get very soon rid of this monster of a book.