Money to Burn, Asta Olivia Nordenhof
Fragmented by a journalistic interruption, the winner of the 2020 European Prize for Literature, Money to Burn, is the first novel in Asta Olivia Nordenhof’s planned Scandinavian Star heptalogy.
Centering around Maggie and Kurt, two seemingly bland souls beaten down by the burden of poverty, the story unfolds in fragments of the past. We begin in the present; a loveless marriage, parents devoid of purpose, ‘long and lonely days.’ Mundane action shapes the first section of the book. Nordenhof’s prose is rich with imagery, yet sparse. Class is expertly conveyed through description, with characters being likened to basic foods such as porridge and dough. Nordenhof does not indulge in mannerisms and auras, instead she serves us characters in their bare bones. The dryness of the text forces us to invest in intimate moments. Life is concentrated in this house; we quietly watch Maggie rinse porridge off her spoon, before she fixates on the shiny metal, her desires for a life she cannot reach scream from the pages. ‘This is my life then,’ thinks Maggie, whilst she potters about the house. Monotony, in this book, ticks like a clock with no one to hear it.
Slicing through this narrative of normalcy comes a journalistic interruption. It details the 1990 Scandinavian Star ferry fires, which killed 159 people and turned out to be an insurance scam that is being investigated to this day. The tone of this section initially reads like a newspaper, but soon morphs into something more biting. Its venom is aimed at people donning suits, greed, maritime companies who view safety regulations as a financial burden: ‘No. Death is not a mistake. It’s part of the deal.’ The deal being the unspoken reality of the class divide. Our narrator gives example of workers becoming ill, and consequently dying, from pesticides used on banana plantations: ‘death and disease may not have been the point, exactly, but those people’s lives were a sacrifice the banana company was always willing to make.’ The monotony of Maggie and Kurt’s life is the product of this machine.
We then jump back in time. Ugly, pitiless, and complex, we are given an insight into both Maggie and Kurt’s pasts. Both characters are shaped by their upbringings, carrying the trauma of financial instability. Once the undertones of capitalism have been laid bare in the prior section, it is easy to draw lines between the characters’ past experiences and their behaviour in the present. The seed of Kurt’s violent and resentful attitude towards women, namely towards Maggie, was indeed planted in his early years.
Nordenhof narrates Maggie’s past with an eye turned toward feminism. Her experiences as a runaway, and a woman who was sexually assaulted, shape her relationship with Kurt later down the line. It is with compassion that Nordenhof explores the complexities of a violent relationship.
Beautifully translated from its original Danish by Caroline Waight, this novel leaves you with a claustrophobic feeling that has been quietly building in the background. The connection between the couple and the Scandinavian Star remains unknown until the final few pages. This is a tale with characters that feel unique, yet familiar; this is a tale of longing and hope for a better life; this is a tale to which many can relate. It is a great addition to any bookshelf.
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