by Per Petterson
This book was told in first person by a woman reflecting on her life, particularly in the WWII era. I picked it up because of the title and the description on the inside cover. I don't know if it was the translation or lack of clear story line, but I had a very hard time following this book, which made it unenjoyable. There were parts that I really liked and as a piece of art it is beautiful, but as a story I did not like it. I think this would appeal to some, but I believe it would be a certain type of person who would really be able to enjoy it. Maybe in the future I will learn Norwegian, read it in its original text and like it better.
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