EVIL FLOWERS

A collection of 25 formally diverse, wide-ranging short and very short stories from the always surprising Norwegian author.

In her fourth book to be translated into English, once more by Dickson—who handles its sly, fairy-tale–infused, theory-laced trickery with aplomb—Øyehaug again displays her playfulness and attention to form, revealing the literary scaffolding and ropes that support the scenery of the often unstable narrative surface. Beginning the collection (with a truly memorable opening line) is "Birds," in which an ornithologist who has been preparing to defend her thesis loses the piece of her brain that contains all her knowledge of birds. She embarks on a quest to piece back together her ornithological expertise in time for her defense, though what she learns about who she is—or perhaps was—in the process is the more vital and wounding knowledge. In the title story, what begins as a tale about a made-up bus driver and made-up passenger progresses to the "real" story, in which the narrator has broken the sesamoid bones in their feet after, they realize, picking evil flowers ("Oh no, evil flowers, I whispered to myself as I lay there"), which they assure us are very real, though everything else is made up, and though Baudelaire's Les Fleurs du mal, from which the title is taken, were a metaphor. This leads into a description of Etienne Carjat's famous photograph of Baudelaire and an extrapolation of how Baudelaire might feel about the title of his work being appropriated for such a story. "A Bit Like This" follows, a "story" that consists only of a copy of this photograph, showing Baudelaire looking as described and seemingly displeased with the proceedings, with no caption, credit, or text of any kind. Motifs, imagery, and forms pinball throughout the rest of the collection, making a messily cohesive whole tied together by anxieties, absurdities, and death—but in a fun way.

A fresh slice of Øyehaug's work, ideal for seekers of spry experimental short fiction.