We all fear this: To one day suddenly realize that it is all completely wrong. The life we have built around us, the body we have lived out, the mind we have cultivated, all the small and big things that make us. Vetle is 39 years old and lies and digs in this painful all-is-wrong sauce. For everything that makes Vetle Vetle feels cramped, wrong or foreign. He is the son of a legendary writer, but failed as a writer himself. He is the chubby, vulnerable gay man who is far too easy to exploit. He is attention-seeking, but self-effacing, conflict-shy, yet provocative, spoiled, but neglected, eternally smiling, but constantly sad. He is the fool who always falls and gets his knee out of joint. He’s the guy who loves the Gilmore Girls, and who does not quite cope with taking the evil into the world. He is the Treasure. At times nauseating “The Treasure” is the literary version of Vetle, and “The Thief” his brother Fartein. The two are the heroes in their father Hjalmar’s super-popular children’s book series “The Treasure and the Thief”. Hjalmar and his mother Liv (who left them in the middle of their childhood) have given the two brothers a shaky and strange foundation on which to build their lives. There is so much dysfunction in family dynamics and so much distorted and masked pain and love that it is sometimes downright nauseating. It’s not hard to see why Vetle is struggling. His weakness, self-loathing and desperate longing stem from an unwillingness to examine what he has been exposed to and the choices he has made, and to evaluate his lifestyle and reaction patterns with honest glasses on. I feel like being his psychologist. It makes me sad to think that there are certainly many middle-aged and confused souls out there who struggle to navigate themselves and life. Well written, but repetitive There is no doubt that Eikehaug writes with ingenuity, heart and soul. He is able to write about both man and the city of Oslo with so much closeness and lyrical finesse that it sometimes feels like music. The double historical perspective with “The Treasure and the Thief” also works excellently. With all the subtle and less subtle parallels it allows for. Despite this, the novel is weighed down by a somewhat repetitive narrative pattern. Many of the same elements recur a little too many times: detailed descriptions of intimacy, melancholy snapshots, the knee jumping out of joint countless times, and alienating drunken evenings. The repetitions paint a picture of an existence that is captured in a repetitive pattern, but also make me as a reader a little impatient. Life in the “gay block” When I close the book, I am still left with a feeling of a closed circle, and a subtly expanded understanding of humanity. So even though the journey was a bit tough at times, it was worth joining. It is also a small window into a world I would not otherwise have access to. To life in the “gay block” on Tøyen, and the music, the jargon and the social codes of a bunch of queer adult men in Oslo. It is a universe that is interesting to be in and that should have a greater place in literature. Strongest of all, however, is the depiction of man’s inherent and all-consuming desire to be loved and accepted – first and foremost by himself. For Vetle, it felt distant, almost impossible. But then maybe there was some hope on the horizon anyway? news reviewer Photo: Gyldendal Title: «The tax and the thief» Author: Erik Eikehaug Genre: Roman Publisher: Gyldendal Number of pages: 373 Date: 2022
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“The Treasure and the Thief” by Erik Eikehaug – Reviews and recommendations
