After reading the excellent "Miss Smilla" and the so-so "Borderliners", I then picked up this work hoping for further inspiration and cause for thought. The opening chapter is a real tour de force in its moulding of space and time, and I considered that this might be one of those rare events: a veritable five-star novel. I read on, but the closer the story came to the present day, the less interesting became the lives protrayed, so that post-war life becomes so ordinary in its extraordinariness. And this is, I suppose, one of the book's strengths and a clear indication that we have here an author of real perspicacity. It is also true that, the closer one comes to the present, the more comical are the situations and the ideas, though it should be said that the humour is subtle, darkly subtle.
So why only three stars? Because, despite the black humour, despite the clever insights, despite the vitriolic (and yet sympathetic) comment - both direct and indirect - on the state of contemporary Danish society, the method of narration is so tedious. The storyline maybe so fantastic and yet equally so everyday, but the tale is nevertheless a family saga: it can only indulge its readers by assuming they are at bottom actually interested in the minutiae of such a saga writ large. And, I'm afraid, often I simply could not care less.