Customer Reviews

In the Wake: A Novel

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To begin with, there is one important thing that needs to be corrected:

"In the wake" is not modeled after the "Estonia"-accident, but after the fire on the passenger ferry "Scandinavian Star" on April 7th, 1990, where 159 people were killed [...].

Petterson lost his cousin, his brother, and his parents in this accident.

I will admit that I read the book in Norwegian first, but I found the translation to be equally good. Petterson is excellent at describing pain in a subtle way. He never becomes melancholy or uses flowing metaphors, despite the somewhat biographic nature of this book. He is also strong at creating imagery, such as his description of driving out of a tunnel into a wall of rain. The narrative style sometimes reminds you of Carver, at his best.

I don't think this book requires a strong knowledge of Norway, the "Scandinavian Star"-accident or any of the other references to be appreciated. It is, however, a book for those who appreciate literature that is not plot-driven, that is minimalist, and in some ways masculine.

Fathers inevitably die, and it is their sons who follow after them. Our fathers do not always love us the way we think they should, but nor do we always love them the way they think we should, either. Arvid Jansen's father died six years ago, and it has taken him until now to realise that he has not, in fact, dealt with it at all. Worse, his wife and children have become estranged, and his brother's life is unravelling as much as his own. His life is disorientation, memory without hooks to hold them within his mind. He wakes, he eats, he sleeps, he forgets.

We meet Arvid in a very confused state. He has 'awoken' outside a bookstore, with dirty, scratched palms and a bruised eye. He can't remember much of how he arrived there, or why he chose to return to the store where he worked, years ago. He was an author of mild success, forgotten now, not immortalised in death like Yeats or Kafka or Schulz, as he might have wished.

The novel is written in a first person perspective, which allows us deep insight into Arvid's mind. Action trigger thoughts which trigger memories of times that have long passed, more often than not to do with his father, a strong, stubborn, emotionally withdrawn man who Arvid felt never quite connected with any of his sons. Any memory at all will invariably contain a reference to his father, a brief thought, a whispered lament, an essay-like discourse on regret.

'I close my eyes, I hear the wind in the treetops, and it is a good sound. I have heard it both summer and winter on hundreds of cross-country treks with my father, when we rested and my breath was not the only sound I could hear, and sometimes the wind in the treetops was the only things that was good.'

This is typical of Arvid's thoughts. He is wistful for life with his father, but strangely none of his memories come across as particularly pleasant. Perhaps that is why he remembers them with such force. He regrets not the father he had, but the father he wanted. Unfortunately for Arvid - and for every child who grows to become a man or woman - we are stuck with the father we receive, for better or worse. If we cannot quite figure out how to be a parent to our own children, then how dare we expect such achievements from them? But of course we do, and that is the crux of Petterson's novel, the second of his to be translated into English, and nominated for the IMPAC Dublin Literary Award, a prize which he was to win in 2007 for his novel, Out Stealing Horses.

The novel is not only concerned with fathers. There is a strong current of loneliness which runs throughout. Arvid becomes involved with a young woman who lives in an apartment across from his own, they watch each other through their windows, communicating in silence. One particularly evocative scene happens shortly after they have become lovers. '...I see her turning and looking back at me, and we just stand there and then she lets her dressing gown drop ... Her skin shines dimly and is whiter than anything else I can see, and she lifts both hands and lays their palms against the pane, and then I do the same, lift my hands and lay the palms against the pane, and it's as if it was just that one window, a few millimetres of glass between her and me...' A metaphor for the entire novel, Arvid is a man who comes close to, but cannot quite, touch the lives of others, or be touched himself. He tries, but there is always that thin pane of glass between his fingers and theirs.

The novel is not without awkwardness, however. 'Give me any car at all, as long as it's a Japanese and begins with an m and ends with an a.' This sort of cleverness feels flat and forced - why not just say you like Mazda's? There are many little literary tricks scattered throughout this book, and most of them fall flat. They come across as being written by the author rather than thought by the character. However, it is worth wondering whether or not these stumbles are the fault of the author, or the translator. In the Wake could not be confused with a novel originally written in English, there are too many pages of writing that would be considered too 'flat'.

For all its loneliness, sadness, withdrawn emotions and awkward phrasings, Petterson's novel is worthy. It is not difficult to fall into the claustrophobic, introverted world of Arvid, and the journey is well worth the effort. While Arvid's issues with his father are not resolved - and how could they be, for he is dead - there is a sense that he is progressing towards something further in his life that could help him. Whether that is hitting 'rock bottom' with his suicidal brother, or embracing a woman he likes but not loves, we cannot know. But there is something happening within his breast, some stir of the heart that was not present at the beginning of the novel. Growth, then.

In Oslo, forty-three years old novelist Arvid Jansen feels depressed. He has felt that way since the ferry sunk killing his parents and two of his three siblings. He knows he must move on, but cannot even while he struggles with writing a novel about his dad. Adding to his feelings of guilt and ineptitudeis the fact his only surviving brother tried suicide perhaps because as Arvid rationalizes it he felt alone as 'his living relative (Arvid) has not been there for him.

Still Arvid tries to reconnect with his estranged "Big Brother" and even makes human contact with his Kurdish neighbor, though neither understands the language of the other. Then there is Mrs. Grinde, who looks at him all the time from her window; he wonders if it is as a sex object or a bug though he admits to himself he would like a tryst with her. He thinks back on his demanding father, who he fought with when his dad was alive and Arvid realizes in some macabre way his misses the arguments.

IN THE WAKE is a reflective insightful look at grief from the perspective of an individual who seems on the brink of a breakdown with no one to turn to for help. Arvid narrates a few weeks in his life as he still mourns his loss though six years has past since the tragic sinking of MS Estonia (real event). Suffering from survivor guilt and alienated from everyone, Arvid believes that along with the deaths of his family, his writing ability died. This is a deep character study that centers on grief as individualized and solitary, however to return to the living one must look to others not for help, but to help.

Harriet Klausner

Arvid Jansen has a breakdown six years after his parents and brother were killed in a ferry accident. His wife and children leave him and his brother attempts suicide. As Arvid wanders around Oslo, he reflects on his relationship (or lack thereof) with his Father. He comes in and out of the Now and the Yesterday through daydreams as he wrestles with his grief. He tries to pull himself out of his "darkness" in connections with an attractive neighbor, his brother and a Kurdish neighbor.

The first 120 pages of this book are challenging to read as Arvid comes in and out of the past. The picture of the first half of the book is best described on page 119: "I drive through the fog...everything moves in slow motion...no sudden movements, no loud sounds, nothing but this milky-white soup in which everything flows silently as in a sleepwalker's dream. I feel tired again."

I admire Petterson's writing style - beautiful, vivid, sparse, emotionally heart-tugging - but found this book coming up somewhat short and particularly so in the first half as it meandered and muddled around too much for my taste. His 2nd book - Out Stealing Horses - was more crisply tied together and more compelling.

I sought out IN THE WAKE after having read and being mightily impressed by Per Petterson's later book, OUT STEALING HORSES (winner of the 2007 IMPAC Award). There are similarities in style, tone, and themes between the two novels. Both feature a not-so-young man (Arvid Janson in ITW, Trond Sander in OSH) trying to salvage some meaning and peace from life. Both Arvid and Trond are burdened by family tragedies and haunted by bittersweet nostalgic memories, many having to do with opportunities in life and relationships they let slip away. Both are engaged in a continuous struggle to understand a strong, almost domineering, now-deceased father and settle on a psychologically satisfactory model of how they related and measured up to him. But IN THE WAKE is bleaker in tone than OUT STEALING HORSES. Arvid Janson does not salvage as much meaning or achieve the measure of peace that Trond Sander does in OTS. And ITW, as a work of writing, is not quite as accomplished as OSH, nor does it seem to operate on as many planes or be as freighted with potential interpretations and meanings.

IN THE WAKE is a rewarding novel, but not a great one, like OUT STEALING HORSES. Perhaps if I had read ITW first, I would give it 5 stars, but I didn't and I feel compelled to signal that it is a notch below OSH.

An interesting feature of ITW is the occasional reference to works of pop and middle-brow culture, both written and musical. Among those I noted are references to Rick Bass, Alice Munro, Billie Holliday (to whom reference also is made in OSH), Jan Garbarek, Jack London, Fleetwood Mac, Tom Waits, and Steve Earle. In fact, the line from Earle -- "I've been to hell, and now I'm back again, I feel all right." -- sums up the state of mind at the end of the novel of Arvid's brother (a failed suicide) and perhaps Arvid himself. Two other references with which I am not familiar -- Svante Foerster's "The Class Warrior" and Yasar Kemal's "Memed, My Hawk" -- might also be relevant to one's understanding of the book.

Another point of note: According to Amazon reviewer K. Gould, the April 7, 1990 ferry disaster in which Arvid's parents and two younger brothers died has a real world parallel -- a fire on the passenger ferry "Scandinavian Star" on April 7, 1990, in which 159 people died, including Per Petterson's parents, brother, and cousin. Further, Arvid, like Petterson, was born in 1952, and Petterson worked as a bookseller before becoming a successful novelist, while Arvid once worked in a bookstore and has aspirations to be a writer, something at which he works sporadically. All of which, of course, raises the question about whether, and the likelihood that, other aspects of IN THE WAKE are autobiographical.

In the Wake is my second favorite Petterson novel (hard to beat Out Stealing Horses!). I love the layers of it: "wake" referring to several things, all applicable in different layers and details. For one thing, wake can refer to, obviously, not asleep. Awake. And in this novel the main character is not "in the wake" that often, he's dreaming and sleepwalking through much of his life. Wake can also refer to the consequences of something, such as left in the wake of an event, which is definitely the case here following the burning ship's demise. Lastly, the use of wake as the memorial event after a death is most prominent. He doesn't beat you over the head with these ideas, but they all fit in beautifully. His character is intriguing.

Additionally, as Petterson so skillfully does, much is left to the imagination. Many questions are left unanswered, which is for the best. Petterson allows you to take away fromt he reading what fits your life look and experience. Some may wish to see more details laid out, but to me that mystery is what makes it magical.

Great book!

Beautiful meditation on the demise of parents and younger adult siblings in a tragic accident, from the standpoint of a blocked 40-something writer whose moorings were obliterated by the fate of a ferry on an icy sea, with the voyagers consumed, ironically, by smoke and fire. One brother remains and Petterson intricately explores the counterpoint of their different approaches to restoring life equilibrium. Needless to say, a marriage fails in the course of existential crisis. The setting receives close attention, as Norwegian writers seem to like to do, touching upon the urban, naming every street in Oslo, and rural, as in the author's marvelous Out Stealing Horses. One pulls for the protagonist and, in this case, he might just survive.

Per Petterson's first published novel, "In the Wake" takes the reader on a journey of grief- related depression with Arvid, a Norwegian stoic with a desire to write novels. Translated by Ann Borne in 2003, the novel's sentence structure is tortured and the tone is somber and hopeless in the early chapters. The setting is stark but beautiful as the characters move through scenes from fjords near Oslo to the forests of Denmark. The time line is varied with numerous flashbacks, giving the reader quick views of Arvid's father, a man who is very competitive in physical contests but never seems to be able to finish an event. Arvid's artistic nature clashes with the masculine bravado of his father, and he gets no paternal support for his creative work. The tragedy that occurs in his family causes Arvid to doubt his writing ability, and he stops writing for some time. Alcohol adds to his depression, but he has an inner resilience that matches the enduring landscape and culture of Norway.

Arvid brings to light his repressed memories and performs the difficult task of self-analysis. The sentence structure becomes more relaxed, and the tone lighter as Arvid gains insight, but not without a cost. He must face his neglect of his brother who was hospitalized for his own suicidal depression. The brothers are faced with the need for reconciliation, and Arvid begins to realize that he was not the only member of the family to suffer from his father's projected disappointment.

There is a beautiful scene related to a crafts shop owner in the forested country outside of Oslo. A similar artistic scene occurs in the snow-covered hills near the hospital where Arvid's brother is recovering. The isolated scenes are written in a lyrical style like Petterson's entire subsequent novel, "Out Stealing Horses." It may be better to read the latter novel first because the somber mood of the former may give a false impression of the writer's consistent style. Per Petterson is a talented writer who tells intricate tales with interesting psychological interaction of his characters.

I have not read the book, but the service was excellent and the book was in perfect condition. and it was sent very quickly with free shipping.

In the Wake reads like a dream diary in which emotions, ideas, and relationships emerge and submerge, never fully formed, but living, in their way, distinct and ever-present, haunting those who keep them close. This is a novel in which Arvid Jansen comes to narrative consciousness with his face pressed against the window of a book store, as if waking from a coma. It is, in fact, his brother who we find in a coma, while learning the rest of Jansen's family, appearing through flashbacks or via the artifacts that prove their existence, has died horribly by fire-at-sea -- an event that mirrors the author's own life.

This is a tragic novel, but not a morbid one. The central issue seems to be not loss alone but the loneliness that travels with it, and Arvid surprises the reader in those relationships to which, like debris, he is able to pick up and create a connection. Those are the relationships that that stay in the reader's mind at the novel's close - their awkwardness, unspoken intentions, and stunted growth create for the narrator not a surrogate but perhaps a new family that can carry loss toward a more landed identity in which hope can, if not exactly thrive, breathe, and flail, and mourn.