Cover of “Repetition: A Novel”

Repetition:A Novel

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One of the foremost writers of her generation explores the strength and pain of being young

As winter approaches in Norway and the daylight dwindles, a chance encounter prompts a novelist to reexamine her past. The seismic events following her sixteenth birthday return with haunting vividness, exposing a story both utterly familiar and desperately strange.

It was the year she first got drunk, the year she first had sex with a boy. She was watched like a hawk by an anxious mother and a silent, distant father. It was a year of typical teenage fixation and typical teenage frivolity, and of all the usual parental fretting. Until something else took hold, and her family made an unspoken decision and a terrible sacrifice. Only now, decades later, can these events come close to being comprehended.

In Repetition, award-winning novelist Vigdis Hjorth explores through fiction the parts of childhood that chime through the decades.

Reviews

  • Hjorth writes with the feminist bluntness of Annie Ernaux, the psychic precision of Javier Marías and the lyrical repetitions of Jon Fosse.

    S.C. CornellThe New York Times
  • For Freud the ‘compulsion to repeat,’ as he called it, was an unconscious expression of what had been repressed by memory. Here, Hjorth brings that compulsion to life in prose, making the reader feel, at once, the desire to remember and the desire to forget, which battle it out on the field of memory. The novel’s explosive power comes from the tension between those competing desires, and its suspense comes from the presence of the unnamed trauma, which sits outside the family’s house like a hungry beast in the darkness…If Will and Testament shows us the process by which a repressed truth rises to the surface, Repetition shows us how it gets repressed.

    Madeline GresselParapraxis
  • This slim, powerful novel could be spoiled by too much information, but lingering too long on the 60-something narrator’s encounter with a teenager that makes her remember her own teenaged self — seems too simple. The title matters both as style and theme, as the unnamed woman recalls the past with uncanny accuracy. As she says, 'I repeat and recall and relive and retell and redress because. . . [the] future is an ongoing process.'

    Bethanne PatrickLos Angeles Times