I received an advanced readers’ copy of this book thanks to the publisher. All opinions are my own.
5 friends (and 2 partners) come together for a week away in the Danish forest. Once a closely-knit friend group during their university days, they have moved into their 30s with their lives going different directions. They haven’t all been together for a long time and are excited to gather again at Karen’s family home. They are an eclectic group – Karen and Esben have ended up together but there are complex feelings about this from other members of the friend group. Sylvia seems settled with her girlfriend Charlie and, from the outside, should be content. But she is reluctant to settle down into a conventional life. Gyr seems to be leaning into that convention, a mother of 2 and wife to the hyper-masculine and overpowering Adam. And Quince with his fluid masculinity, experiencing a youth and freedom he didn’t when he was younger. All of these personalities are together for a week and, inevitably, begin to clash as the time goes by. Each of our characters is figuring out what adulthood means and looks like for them. But what does that leave for a friend group like theirs, when they might each decide adulthood looks different?
The setting is excellent. The characters are isolated in a beautiful, lake-front setting for a set amount of time. We know that this can’t last forever and that the setting itself is bringing out something different in each of them. None of this could happen if any of them were back in their real lives. Some of the characters want to stay in this zone for always while others recognize it as only a brief reprieve from what they see as their real lives. This difference in attitude provides increasing tension as the week continues.
The characters consume lush food and drink and we get delightful descriptions of this. It was easy to imagine the indulgence that comes when you’re away from home, on vacation. These parts will make you want to book a week away at a remote cabin, with or without your closest friends. Ernst also excels at depicting the subtle ways these people try to one-up each other. One might start cooking and then another has to find a way to contribute that is equally impressive. Without it ever coming to the surface, they’re each trying to impress the others.
Sexuality and gender identity is a major theme throughout. We have Sylvia, who is in a relationship with another woman, though one who is frequently described as having a masculine energy. Charlie wants a traditional life – marriage, children – while Sylvia doesn’t see herself in that scenario. Karen and Esben are a heteronormative couple but it quickly becomes clear that Karen is the driving force in their relationship. Gyr and Adam follow the social tradition most closely, their 2 young children in tow. Gyr is maternal and nurturing, finding a balance between her role as mother and her own interests. She likes this but sometimes wonders if she shouldn’t as she sees her friends reject these roles. And Quince, a transgender man who is figuring out his own style of masculinity.
Getting to the end of this novel was an interesting experience because I found myself with a lot of sympathy and compassion for each of these characters. But I didn’t really like any of them. Ernst nails a lot about millennial culture – which was especially interesting to note because the book is set in Denmark, translated from Danish, and features Danish characters. Yet there was a lot that felt familiar about being in your mid-30s and navigating what your life will look like. I think many of us can similarly relate to sometimes missing those intense friendships of your early 20s. In university, my life was entwined with my friends in a way it just isn’t at 40, even if I have close friendships now.
It was interesting to observe which characters accepted this change and which railed against it and how, in the context of the novel, this seemed to correlate with sexual identity. This part I struggled more to relate to. Of any character, I probably related most to Gyr, who is one of the most conventional characters, but even she made choices I strongly disagreed with. What was interesting was that the characters it felt like we spent the most time with were the ones that I thought made the worst decisions. I think Ernst intended her readers to feel more sympathy with those characters yet I couldn’t help but focus more on the ways in which they were hurting their loved ones in the name of personal freedom. In the end, maybe that sort of mirror reflecting back to the reader was exactly what Ernst had in mind.
Karissa Reads Books 