Translated by Marlaine Delargy.
The Unit is the first novel by Ninni Holmqvist, a translator who has previously published three collections of short stories. It is superb: assured, measured, controlled, human and written in that deceptively simple, easy-reading style that draws the reader into very dark depths without consciously being aware of the direction.
This is not a novel that many would term ‘crime fiction’: the main ‘crime’ being on the part of the state. The book has been defined as ‘science fiction’, but it isn’t that either. The events take place in some slightly futuristic or alternative reality, but if the reader accepts these terms of engagement, the novel is an Orwellian story about people, events and feelings, containing no artificial tricksiness and having far more in common with Karin Fossum than with Isaac Asimov.
The bare bones of the plot are straightforward. Dorrit, a single woman aged about 50, finds herself institutionalised – voluntarily but in a sinister fashion. The titular unit is a pleasant place in which to live, with landscaped gardens, library, art gallery and many other facilities, although all the residents are under constant surveillance.
Although it isn’t hard to guess the purpose of the unit, the way in which the nightmare gradually unfolds is brilliantly told. There are no dramatics or exciting set-pieces, and because we see everything from the point of view of the residents rather than the staff, and hence in human and emotional terms, the impact of the fate of Dorrit’s circle of friends is poignant.
Like all good novels, there are layers of allegory. The people who live in the unit are childless, therefore in their previous lives have tended to devote their energies towards creative, intellectual pursuits. The unit is therefore full of authors, artists, and others who are continuing to contribute constructively to society in the hope that their work will be preserved for the future. There are many understated themes running through the novel – satire, social comment, ethics and so on.
The Unit shares its main elements with all good books. It tells an interesting story; has a good plot with a few twists and turns (especially at the end); contains believable characters; is very well written, superbly translated by Marlaine Delargy, who conveys many subtleties so well; and it haunts long after finishing it. The character of the protagonist, Dorrit, as she reflects on her past life and relationships, misses her dog and decides how to handle the amazing situation in which she finds herself half-way through the book, is particularly compelling. I think that populating a novel with a cast of 50- and 60-something characters without children makes for an interestingly unusual view of human behaviour and society, and the background of benign menace provides a sharp antidote to sentimentality.
First posted at Petrona, May 2010. (Publisher, The Other Press.)