WILD SWIMS

Cool, razor-sharp stories by a brilliant Danish writer.

Several years ago, you couldn’t open a magazine without reading about hygge, a Danish word meaning a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that supposedly defines Danish life. And yet there is little cozy about Nors’ new collection, not even in a story called “Hygge,” an icy account of everything that’s tacky and desperate about Lilly, the middle-aged woman the narrator is dating: “She doesn’t feel anything, most of the time,” the man observes, “but it takes nothing at all to make her feel everything.” Of course, as he excoriates her, he reveals just what a cruel misogynist he is. Irony and narrative sleights of hand (like the precisely planted out-of-place word, an obsessive thought that gets whittled down to its shameful source, the swerve of an unexpected final line) shape-shift these beautiful distilled stories. You think you know what you’re reading until suddenly you don’t. In “In A Deer Stand,” a man drives into the country to get away from his wife, though it’s not just she whom he’s fleeing, and the narrator in “Manitoba” plots his escape to a hunting cabin when a group of noisy teenagers pitches their camp next to his house. But the real reason for his flight, alluded to in fleeting images, is more sinister. Finally, in “By Sydvest Station,” Lina and her friend go door to door, pretending to raise money for the Cancer Society, while she unselfconsciously wonders how her boyfriend could accuse her of faking love. Nors, whose novel Mirror, Shoulder, Signal was a finalist for the 2017 Man Booker International Prize, drills down into the idea that people can’t really understand themselves, let alone others.

A brainy collection perfectly constructed to put you on edge.