By: Fayth Simmons
Because Venus Crossed an Alpine Violet on the Day that I Was Born by Norwegian author Mona Høvring (translated into English by Kari Dickson and Rachel Rankin) won the Norwegian Critic’s Prize for Literature, was a finalist for the Norwegian Bookseller’s Prize, and was included on numerous critics’ Best of 2018 book lists. In a first-person narrative, with an alternating timeline from past to present day, inclusive of flashbacks to childhood, a tale of two sisters is told, set against a fairy-tale-esque Scandinavian backdrop.
Martha and Ella are very close in age, separated by just a year, and were very close in their younger years—until Martha left unexpectedly with a man whom she had supposedly fallen in love with. This abrupt separation is difficult for Ella, and she finds herself feeling slightly unhinged, as though her sense of self has been set off balance by the absence of her elder sister. Martha soon returns, however she is not the same person that she was at the time of her departure. After Martha spends some time in a hospital due to a breakdown, it is suggested that Ella accompany her for a stay at a hotel high up in a mountainous village. This hotel serves as a new and common ground where the two girls re-evaluate their relationship after an extended period of no real communication.
Though this is a story of two sisters, serving as an exploration of the dynamic and sometimes difficult nature of relationships, it may also be classified as a tale of memory, attachment, and belonging. Both Ella and Martha are prominently featured throughout, but there is a definite focus upon Ella, and events are told from her perspective. The novel is largely descriptive of an internal monologue, as Ella works to understand her sister and the reasoning behind her seemingly untenable actions, but most of all she works to understand herself outside of her identity in relation to Martha. Ella’s stay at the hotel allows a window of time for self-reflection, and for the summation of twenty-two years of wondering and wonderment. As a whole, the narrative serves as a very thematic and well-versed exploration of crucial and contemporary themes (e.g., mental health, identity, relationships).
This is a short novel, and as such, characters are portrayed in their individuality but without full explanation; instead, the author leaves room for wonder—the reader is left to assimilate the knowledge of what is with all that is hinted at through word, action, or symbol. And there is a lot of symbolism. For all that the narrative is objectively based upon the relationship between sisters, the conversation is little and the internal thoughts are more. With limited speech and action, those that do occur are worth so much more. The significance of the barbershop, Ella’s chance meeting with the Salvation Amy soldier, and the presence of the graveyard alongside the chapel are all left to be considered.
In addition, there is a whimsical, almost magical undertone to the narrative, which pays homage to fairy tales. There is also an underlying aura of mystery—of vague enchantment and constant soft bewilderment. The mountains act as a beautiful mystery unto themselves, and the wintery backdrop gives the illusion of clarity amidst a heavy dose of cynicism. Very real emotions, and very real experiences and relationships, set against a backdrop of a peculiar glass hotel and its equally peculiar and enigmatic occupants, allow for the meeting of the real and the imagined as they work in synchrony to deliver a powerful and thoughtful narrative.
Thank you to Book*hug Press for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.