I had really wanted for this to be the last book on the '06 list, but I was too busy meditating over The Word for 2007 on the train.
It's funny with N.B., every new novel by her translated into Swedish seems to be very similar to the one I'm writing in my head. And after reading them, I have to reconsider my own.
Mes mauvaises pensées (in Swedish Mina onda tankar) is written in one long sentence, it seems, so very dense that it's almost hard to remember what you've read, which is a little disturbing and therefore perhaps kinda healthy for a word fascist like me. It contains all thoughts at once, intended for the female psychoanalyst: words on childhood, girlfriends, relatives, Algeria, Paris. It is not to be missed.