I am a sucker for colourful stripes and that was the reason I picked this book up while I was browsing at the library. The title seemed vaguely familiar. Maybe I had read about it somewhere? I can’t remember but I did end up reading it.

Helle Helle is a popular novelist from Denmark and I am quite surprised by the kind of works the Danish love. Everything about this book screams minimalism. It is a daunting and haunting read. I hovered on the midline wondering if I will end up falling in love with the book or hit the other extreme. I didn’t end up falling. I managed to stay on the wall.

The plot is simple and is the story of Dorte, a 20-year old pseudo university student, an occasional party song writer and insomniac. I could see Dorte and I wanted to head to Denmark to ride on the bicycle along side her, hearing the gravel crunch under the cycle tires. There were so many times when I wanted to reach to Dorte and give her a good shake.

Dorte drifts between men, purposelessness and shopping. Her own parents seem like shadows at a distance. Aunt Dorte (the narrator is the namesake) seems to be the only constant influence in young Dorte’s life.

There are moments when the book seems to be going nowhere kind of like the protagonist and yet there is so much happening. It is a book that celebrates the sound of chewing gum. Yes, it can be maddening but that is what I enjoyed the most about this book. It isn’t the usual book you find in the shelves.

I lay there for ages staring into the dark. There was nothing to see. Eventually I got up and went into the front room, switched on the lamp and sat down in the armchair. I sat quite still and listened. There was nothing to hear either. I reached into my canvas bag on the floor and found a packet of chewing gum, took four pieces and chewed. What a racket it made. I stopped and listened.