The Wax Child

The Wax Child / Olga Ravn
trans. from the Danish by Martin Aitken
TO: Book*hug Press, 2025, c2023.
200 p.

Another book on the International Booker longlist, I wanted to read this because of the author - I've read her speculative novel The Employees and was curious how she'd write a historical novel. 

The Wax Child is inspired by a real-life witch trial in the 17th century. The text incorporates quotes from letters, manuals, court documents and grimoires from that time. The writing is dense, full of imagery and visceral detail, and grounds the reader in the era. 

This is the story of Christenze Kruckow, an unmarried noblewoman who is accused of witchcraft along with a circle of other women. She is accused of all sorts of things, even of making a wax child, a dark magic. The book is narrated by the wax child, observing her maker and all the others before and while they go through the trials. This technique of a removed observer works well here, allowing a broader perspective than just that of Christenze, but it also creates uncertainty in the reader -- if the wax child is telling us this story, how much of the activity of witchcraft that they are accused of actually happened? Was there something going on, or is this just another example of men upset by women finding strength and solidarity together? 

I thought this was a great read. It's dark, and hard to read in parts, but the setting and the writing itself are both so powerful. Ravn recreates the suffocating atmosphere of this trial, and of women's lives, particularly unmarried women's lives, in this era. And she shows how these elements are still relevant to contemporary readers, but not in an obvious or didactic way -- it just comes through in the writing. This was a memorable read, one that has stuck with me. 

 

The Faces

 

The Faces / Tove Ditlevsen
translated from the Danish by Tiina Nunnally
London: Picador, 2022, c1968.
144 p.

I had this little novel on my list so started it at near the end of Women in Translation month in August -- but although it's short, it's also a tough read so I read it fairly slowly.  

It focuses on Lise Mundus, a writer who is beginning to descend into her own reality. She's a children's book writer and in her second marriage, with three children. But she's facing a crisis: she is hearing things and seeing faces. She is also paranoid about her husband having an affair with the nanny, or even Lise's own daughter. The crisis spirals until she's admitted to an institution for care, and because it's written from Lise's perspective, it's hard for the reader to follow what is happening - what's real, what are Lise's hallucinations. 

I'm not much of a fan of books like this, where the mental state of the character is reflected in the writing. It feels like someone is describing their long and convoluted dream to you, which really only makes sense to them. I do find it quite a slog to read this style. 

I found some elements of interest here; the writing is strong stylistically in many parts, and the images and metaphors she uses liberally are fresh and interesting. It's also appealing that one of the signs of Lise returning to health is being able to write again. However, this wasn't a hit for me, although I may try another of Ditlevsen's books and see how I get on with her with another story. I admire what she is doing here, but it doesn't connect with me as a reader very well. 

Mirror Shoulder Signal

Mirror Shoulder Signal / Dorthe Nors
trans. from the Danish by Misha Hoekstra
Minneapolis, MN: Graywolf Press, c2018.
188 p.

This book has been on my tbr since I saw someone mention it last August. It was worth finally picking it up; I enjoyed Nors' sensibility and this story of Sonja, a middle aged woman who is trying to learn to drive. 

That's the premise of this book but it encompasses a lot more which sort of circles out from this desire of Sonja's to be able to drive. Her thoughts about driving are thoughts about her own view of herself, and her past, and her connections to others. 

Sonja is a translator, kept busy translating the work of a Swedish crime writer. She's now living in Copenhagen, but grew up in Jutland (a sneered at region) and can't stop thinking about the landscapes and the place she grew up in. Her sister, who still lives there, seems to be avoiding her calls; Sonja has changed so that even while she longs for the past, she can never go back. 

She also suffers from hereditary vertigo, although her massage therapist thinks it must all be emotional, something she's repressing. I enjoyed the complex variety of the characters, from the flakier massage therapist to Sonja's solitary nature to the extremely talkative and coarse Jutta, Sonja's first driving instructor, each is a rounded individual. 

Sonja is obsessed with fears of failure, of making the wrong choices, of being left alone in her life. She feels that she's lost direction and just wants to see her life from a better vantage point. Her quest for a drivers licence puts her in contact with more of the city and more characters and takes her on an internal journey that reflects her desire for freedom of movement in the outer world. 

I enjoyed the matter of fact narrative style, all from Sonja's point of view though not in first person. It's descriptive, with a subdued sense of humour and irony, and distances itself from sentimentalism even in the more emotionally difficult moments. While I found the ending a bit vague and inconclusive it made sense in light of earlier moments in the story. Definitely one I found thoughtful and enjoyable to read.