Book Review: Redbreast

          Knowing what I know about domestic literature, I can’t help but find reading foreign stuff a dicey prospect.  When reading a novel from a country or culture I am unfamiliar with, I feel that I am being informed as well as entertained, but how trustworthy is that feeling?  How can one know when a novel is a true reflection of real life in a foreign setting or just a fun house mirror, distorting and exaggerating for the sake of plot and excitement?  As I got wrapped up in the world Norwegian author Joe Nesbo created in his novel Redbreast, thinking I now know more about life in Norway, some of the political issues they deal with, how their justice system works, what the scars and blemishes of their culture are and how they got there, it suddenly dawned on me, “What if this guy is the Norwegian John Grisham?”

            Think what you want about Grisham’s talents as an author, but it can’t be argued that his novels are purely for enjoyment; he plays fast and loose with facts and reality to keep his stories fast paced and thrilling.  Would you want someone from Norway forming opinions about American life based on The Firm?  It’s easy for us to determine his works are a form of escapism because we live here, we know what’s real and what’s exaggerated (at least most of us do).  But what if you had never stepped on US soil?  What if you never spent time immersed in our culture?  Would if be so obvious?

            Redbreast is a well written, well constructed crime novel that spans two generations and 60 years.  The story and how it plays out reminded me very much of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, but lighter in tone and more mainstream.  So much so that I wondered if in some circles it would be considered a Steig Larsson rip off trying to cash in on the other book’s success, but Redbreast was written five years earlier then the other book.  It’s this construction and the novel’s subject matter, the effects of WWII and Nazism in Scandinavian countries, that gives it the air of authority.  By making history and personal politics major plot points, one is lulled into believing that they are being more then just entertained.  But the fact remains that I still have very little idea what role Nazism plays in modern Norway or how prevalent it is.  I also have no clue how WWII effected how Norwegians look at their fellow countrymen, no matter what insight I may feel I’ve been given.

            In all fairness to John Grisham, he has written novels that show people slices of American culture, warts and all.  As over the top as the conclusion to A Time To Kill may have been, it did a good job showcasing racism in the South and the power it holds.  While not totally true to life, it was a very solid depiction.  So maybe if Joe Nesbo is Norway’s John Grisham then Redbreast is his A Time To Kill and I’m worrying about nothing.  Maybe if I just let myself enjoy Redbreast for what it is, a wonderful character driven crime novel centered on an interesting love story, and not go looking for anything more or deeper, I would avoid any and all pitfalls.  Either way, the real answer seems to be somewhere in the middle.  When reading foreign literature, be a little leery, don’t take everything as concrete fact, enjoy the ride you are being taken on and maybe you walk away a little more informed and a lot more entertained.

**Side Note:  My other fascination with foreign literature is the translator.  With this novel, I found it a little interesting that I knew the translator was British without looking at his bio.  Nationality does have an effect on how a novel is translated from language to language.