Ulf Lundell sets always fun names for their main characters, and in this novel, bison , he named Frank Kornfeldt.
The latter sixty-year writers have left Stockholm in Sweden. He is also self left, of Erene, for the great amount of wine’s sake. He listens to Iggy Young Dylan Taube – Happ! – Lundell . He has adult children that he did not speak about. He is thinking more of age; plans his life might last sängköp, measures blood pressure, notes the names of days, writing a will.
But above all, he reads the newspapers, listening to radio, watching television. Noga.
bison is not much of a novel for those looking for action and interpretation. The book is set in a writer’s head, is a kind of diary of the state of affairs. Frank Kornfeldt is cursed, like hell. At Alliance, Syria, the Social Democrats, the Green Party, Beyoncé Filippa Reinfeldt , privatization, Bildt , communism, tapeworm, Royalty, USA, Putin Thatcher , jihadists, Ibrahim Izmir , P1, Jimmie Åkesson , class society, Lundin Oil AB, Stockholm, tight jeans, Melodifestivalen, the National Day, romregistret, neoliberalism, Patti Smith mink fur … even Ulf Lundell may its a boot.
most angry is he Jan Bjorklund and Annie Loof : “… it is the same mundiarré that goes in and out and you want to vote for death because it is at least real.”
He says the self-medal conditioned culture journalists, something which, incidentally, is becoming increasingly common. Lars Norén Bear Ranelid Ernst Brunner have all broken with the untruthful decorum, and why should they not do so?
Theme Woman is here of course, but once again, not going Lundell go anywhere. Earlier fled his characters and sångtextsjag themselves – they wanted to hit the road, away somewhere, anywhere – but now they are fleeing Sweden, politics, journalism, the idiotic publicity: How they stand out with him alone? How do we stand out?
That’s a good question.
Frank Kornfeldt gives to grips with five books a week. The comments about the read is accurate, funny, revealing. I have always wished that Lundell stepped forward as the literary critic, he is deep down.
Kornfeldt depreciates too. Long articles from Aftonbladet and Expressen Culture ports treasured in the diary as late by Ulf Lundell lands with an editor at Wahlstrom & amp; Widstrand, as of laxity or willfully press articles outright. Lundell has perhaps no responsibility for his characters – just today I allow myself to have the literature sight – but a publisher has the responsibility to comply with copyright law.
Frank Kornfeldt go to Stockholm to sell his memoirs. It wants you to Ulf Lundell also wanted to do, after 22 titles in which the protagonists are becoming more like him. For framework anyway, the rest do we really know very little about, despite all the interviews.
I cultivate an “anti literary style,” writes Kornfeldt when he contemplates his own writing. You could probably say that Lundell also doing more and more, but I like it. He pours on. Bison is a samtidsakt over a collective, popular anger, frustration, confusion and despair over a country and a world that no longer recognizes. One could go into almost any head any time and find the same thought splinters.
In the midst of the fury looks Kornfeldt a wagtail and the meaning of life. In order to stand out, he says, one must acquire a private sanctuary in the present. Greater vision than that do not offer our time for those who are in opposition. It is so sad Supplied, but also expressed a completely understandable self-preservation.
I want to know what happens next. A book about Frank Kornfeldt every election year would be more of a political than literary experiments, but about what we need.
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