Een psychiater verdiept zich in het leven van zijn overleden vader die hij nooit goed heeft gekend en stuit daarbij op lang verzwegen geheimen.

I kept hoping this book would get better - better writing, less condescension by the protagonist or the author, but it never happened. The story is an interesting one, but not well-enough developed. The frustrating aspect of the book was the author's putting words into the protagonist-narrator's mouth that caused one of them to sound condescending to the reader about what psychiatrists and analysts do, and how they think and use their jargon. I often felt that the author was writing - or the narrator was speaking - as though readers are empty slates with no experience or understanding of anything, needing to be spoon-fed. ( )

The author has written a fascinating, engaging and moving story of a psychiatrist, Erik, now living in New York, as he tries to come to terms with the death of his father and to unravel a secret hinted at in his memoirs. At the same time, his sister, Inga, is mourning her husband’s early death and her daughter has also been deeply affected by the destruction of the Twin Towers a few years previously. Into this mix, comes a lodger, Miranda, who attracts Erik and who is a single mother and Erik partially falls into the father role to her daughter. Hustvedt convincingly portrays Erik’s vulnerability to Miranda and also some of his patients as he discusses them with his own mentor and analyst. This leads his to re-evaluate his own actions against those of his patients which gives him a greater insight into his and their lives.

This is a satisfyingly complex novel, tossing all sorts of interesting ideas around and avoiding predictable resolutions. Hustvedt draws partly on her late father's reminiscences of rural poverty in thirties Minnesota and military service in the Pacific, partly on her own New York circle of philosophers, psychotherapists, artists and Great Writers for a set of characters who seem to be there, inter alia, to make us question the importance we attach to secrets and their resolution in narrative processes like fiction, biography and psychoanalysis. Most people's lives, she seems to be arguing, are determined by the big, obvious things: war and poverty, accident and illness, the time, place and social class into which they are born. In comparison with these, the intriguing mysteries of adultery, paternity, secret loves or repressed childhood memories usually fade into insignificance. ( )

Another good Husvedt, but lacking some of the intensity of What I Loved. A fantastic blend of fiction, psychology and philosophy though. ( )