Tær bestu
These short stories are all masterpieces. Kjell Askildsen calls himself intricate, scanty and swift, cheap with words. Every single sentence induces its own continuation. He does not know the story in advance, but lets one sentence lead to the next, and thus the story unfolds.
Neither are there any specific points to be made, nothing definitive, no solutions, which keeps the reader wanting for more. You yearn for the author’s wise explanation as to why, because is there anything better than getting to know the characters of a book better, to understand them and discover why they act, the way they do?
But human relations and intimacy are in short supply here. Some are without community; some are strangers to their neighbours.
Kjell Askildsen still sidesteps the final answer. His readers are left to understand and interpret the stories on their own.