The Pets

Great little book translated from... Icelandic? Norwegian? Danish? Whatever they speak in Iceland. The author, Bragi Ólafsson, I have since learned was the bassist for the Sugarcubes back in the day. I picked it up at random off the new-release shelf at the library, as is my wont, and tore through its brief 157 pages in a couple days. My random grabs often result in disappointment, but I have stumbled across some gems. A history of failures also has lowered my expectations, so the book doesn't need to be spectacular. This book greatly exceeded any expectations. The Pets revolves around two fellows, Emil and Havard. Emil has just returned to Iceland from a trip to London when he spots trouble coming to his door in the form of an old acquaintance, Havard. Havard is that guy everyone knows who glides through life in a drunken haze, somehow managing to be just barely productive enough to support a lifestyle of drinking and causing trouble. He was great fun for us when we knew him in our early 20s, but he now represents a serious threat to our current status quo. If this was a Hollywood movie, I suspect Havard would be played by Owen Wilson. When Emil sees Havard outside, he reacts as many of us would like to do; he hides. As if it was an ID'd call from a creditor. Undaunted by the lack of response, Havard crawls in the kitchen window and Emil commits to the dodge by hiding under his bed. During a tour of the house, Havard answers the phone and, pretending to be Emil, begins inviting Emil's friends over that night for a big party. One of the two major plots is Emil trying to figure out a way to both get rid of Havard and not reveal that he has been hiding under the bed. The second plot is the backstory of Emil and Havard's relationship revealed through flashbacks to London and the tragic hilarity that ensued there. Ólafsson writes in clean, direct prose, giving vivid and detailed descriptions of what is happening in every scene. His style paints a realistic picture of the surreal action. I read an interview with Ólafsson and, having read the book first, I was surprised at how flippant he was. I think he is a person who takes writing far more seriously than he let on in that interview. When I read it, I didn't get the vibe that the author was at all flippant. The book is clearly the product of a talented, disciplined writer with an offbeat sense of humor. I am glad he made the transition from music to literature and I hope to see more of Bragi Ólafsson's work translated into English.