I've been waiting for the right moment to read this novel since probably 2006 when it came out. Even though it's been standing in my book shelf the whole time. Perhaps it's the same thing as with Susan Sontag's Illness as Metaphor and AIDS and Its Metaphors, the first page striking a brilliant chord that makes for a quite attentive read that I might not be up to at the time.
Där bakom gestaltlös, utan skapnad, väntar med famlande, väntar med skakande ännu oformade händer det som snart skall komma.
Står med sluttande och oformlig gestalt och framåtböjd och lyssnar.
And on page 2:
Nu i formlöshet som blundar,
vänder sig om på sin andra sida,
samlar sig till något som är likt en skepnad,
andas ut, reser sig upp och i sin fulla längd och tar ett första steg och börjar gå.
I cannot recall a more poetic and vivid description of the birth of evil. And the way Lotass takes the reader inside 5 serial killers' minds is extraordinary. How she can describe the environments in and around Las Vegas; the dams, the fair grounds, without using any names or English words, even, is quite unique.
I'm very glad that Lotass will become a member of the Swedish Academy on December, 20.
