Reviews

‘Always the same question when it comes to people. Whose will was stronger?’

A skilled wordsmith and nature writer, Niemi juxtaposes lyrical pastoral beauty with the grotesque and the hideous. He is able to enchant, lull and repulse in equal measure. This is writing that will make you think.

But we are pulled back from the brink: what if the notion of humanity being in charge is, after all, an enabling, hopeful story to tell ourselves?

‘Holy forests, / where every tree within itself / bears a thousand icons, which were not painted by human hand. / See, a vast forest of icons!’

The book’s strength lies in the interplay between emotions and environment, and the way that is expressed, with the island’s song as the theme tune: ‘the song tonight is so strong I feel as if I could catch it in my hands.’

When a snowstorm descends on the wedding party, it is so cold the knife won’t cut through the wedding cake and the bubbles freeze in the champagne glasses.

It is surprising to learn that we now readily accept the presence of mallards, swans, cormorants, mandarin ducks, tufted ducks, goldeneye and a host of other species, all of which were wholly unknown in urban or built-up areas a hundred years ago.

Rattle Rustle Walk is a lovely collection of poetry that is just right for young readers and they, like the tree in winter with its leaves falling, will be sad when it is over.

The old school of fairy tales – the ones that make even adults afraid to walk through the woods alone.

Although the refugee crisis was depicted by press and politicians as a crisis in Sweden, Banke’s book is a timely reminder that the asylum seekers are in fact the ones facing a crisis.

Ann-Luise Bertell's debut is ‘A pocket-sized emigrant epic’

Anders Roslund & Stefan Thunberg's taut prose and changes in narrative perspective and tempo make for an intricate psychological drama that crackles on every page.

Agnes Lidbeck creates a layered protagonist whose passivity is actually an active choice. The title, which means ‘to comply’, but also ‘to find oneself’, neatly captures these aspects of the protagonist.

Johannes Anyuru's novel, a searing warning about a possible future, frames a strong message in breathtaking prose.

The question that starts the book is ‘What was the worst thing you experienced?’ Her answer is simple: ‘The moment I was separated from my parents.’

Elise Karlsson's third novel is a stylistically chilly, pared-back reflection on the workings of our present-day society.

Peter Sandström's Autumn Apples is a masterpiece of understatement, a brilliantly laconic portrait of the sad vicissitudes of life.

'...the situation is hopeless ... Perhaps its serious nature will nonetheless lead us to something that we might almost be able to call hope.’