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A Summer of Drowning, by John Burnside

By on August 12, 2011

This is an ethereal, eerie and quirky book, much because it is set in Kvaloya, a small North Norway island in the Arctic Circle, exposed to white nights and a captivating spectral atmosphere. It follows the reflections of Liv, now 28 years old, retelling her memories from the summer 10 years ago, when two male classmates drowned in curious circumstances, followed by the strange disappearance of three other islanders.

Intertwined into this is the folklore of Hulda, a wild spirit associated with tempting, beguiling and luring susceptible men to their death; thus interposing a supernatural element to the story.

Liv lives with her mother, Angelika, a successful but reclusive artist; portrayed as beautiful, tolerant and ever in control. Dotted in the story are several local men who are quietly, yet platonically infatuated by Angelika and visit her as a group each week.

Liv is a complete loner. She does not have any friends, her mother in the main is so committed and absorbed in her work within her private studio that Liv’s only would be companion is Kyrre, a rather elderly neighbour consumed by all things to do with old fantasy and fable. This includes the legend of the Hulda, which he has shared at length with her. Liv is arguably too comfortable with her life; she enjoys the solitude, she has no desire to acquire friends, a future relationship or have children. She adores her virtually faultless mother and whilst recognising she maybe unconventional, aims to convince the reader that her life is quite idyllic. Much of her time is spent simply reading or observing all that is around her with great minutia.

The characters and circumstances in this book are benignly bizarre. Essentially nobody ever asks personal questions to each other about what they’ve done, how they feel or what they’re thinking. There appears to be an unwritten rule that it is for the individual to initiate or offer personal information and never an open judgement is made. Instead to fill conversations they discuss art and associated theories. Nobody seems to reveal hardly any facial reaction to comments and issues, yet according to Liv’s accounts they all appear to have this innate ability to read each others finest and most subtle body language to interpret their demeanor and mood.

Introducing such few characters on an isolated island, that ignores the obvious and reflects on the sublime, where none of them can cope with another’s company for anything but short bursts, knowing there are unspoken truths and mystery – should as an outsider looking in make you think you’ve entered an odd and spooky place not dissimilar to the remote village of Royston Vasey in  ‘The league of Gentleman.‘ However author John Burnside through Liv graciously paints these peculiar characters as warm and genuine islanders.

The book itself is broken down into three elements. There are no chapters, which to me reflects how the days and events roll along in a gentle and meandering manner. This did unfortunately cause my interest to temporarily sag about a third of the way in. The writing style is conversational and detailed, reflective of Burnside’s poetic abilities being an author of 12 published poetry collections as well as 7 previous novels. Because of this the book ticks along at a leisurely pace, and I learnt that it doesn’t really lend itself to very short or protracted reading sessions, but is best enjoyed in half hour or so sessions, so that you can indulge in the detailed observations and abstract contradictions that lie within the text.

There are an array of red herrings amidst the story and there is no definite conclusion to the mystery. What does transpire is that the events according to Liv and Hulda stories converge and diverge at differing times, toying with a supernatural link. Liv recounts mental health issues after the disappearances of the latter three people, Kyrre being one of these, that intriguingly nobody else really reacted much to. This will cause you reflect back further on her view of the world and amongst the layered fabrication of reality and fable you will, if you can, need to determine what is fiction and what is not.

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