Perhaps it is the case that we all have our own private mythology. With places, people and events that take on an almost sacred status, stories we want to tell, again and again. For the Danish writer Søren Ulrik Thomsen, Store Kongensgade 23 is such a mythical place. This was the place he and his family moved to when he was sixteen, in 1972. He was only going to live there for one year. But when he moves out, it’s as if Store Kongensgade 23 moves into him. This becomes the place around which his life “revolves”, it is the turning point, the place where the tip of the passer was placed. So what happened? According to the essay, surprisingly little. Thomsen doesn’t actually write much about it, he doesn’t seem to remember much either. Yes, there are admittedly a couple of obligatory pages here about the poet’s first fuck, with the lovely Jane, to whom the book is dedicated. Otherwise, it seems that much of this time is lost behind the veil of oblivion, or perhaps we should say it is hidden in the mists of mythology. VETERAN: Danish Søren Ulrik Thomsen is far from a debutant. He has many awards and books on his CV. During the Danish literature festival LiteratureXchange Festival 2022, he is holding up his debut poem from 1981. Photo: HREINN GUDLAUGSSON / CC BY 4.0 A tender portrait of a mother The paradox lies in the fact that seventeen-year-old Søren Ulrik Thomsen found himself, at about the same time as his mother disappeared. Because it is at this time, in Store Kongensgade 23, that the mother Hanne Thomsen sinks into a dark depression, a mental disorder that would take her years to recover from. The mother was a person of language, a poet, who in the healthy periods of her life worked in an office. It is not stretching it too far to say that Søren Ulrik’s gifted language and writing are closely linked to his mother’s love of language and literature, and also to her deep psychological problems. With this book, Thomsen delivers a tender and very vivid maternal portrait of her. In the essay, the father has to find himself playing second fiddle. Mainly because he works so well, he belongs in life and is at ease in the world. This is how Søren Ulrik Thomsen describes the aging father: The Middle Ages of Psychiatry The father was the stable, balanced man who rode his bike whistling to the bank every day, and kept the family going, both mentally and financially. He is overshadowed by the deafening darkness of his mother. She leaves her mark on everyday life in the small family, even though she has not been at home for many years, but goes in and out of various institutions. After many years in this way and several suicide attempts (and constant calls to her father to leave her and start a new life), Hanne Thomsen is suddenly cured. According to the son, there is finally a psychologist who takes the time to sit down and actually listen to what she has to say. This gives the poet the opportunity to deliver some more or less well-directed kicks at psychiatry, a couple of salvos he has obviously longed to deliver (the twentieth century as the medieval age of psychiatry!) There does not mean that the last word has been said in the eternal discussion about therapy or chemistry, of the type: Did you have a traumatic childhood, or do you want happy pills? But regardless, one should never underestimate the therapeutic effect of a good blowout. Falling in love in the big city I myself remember Søren Ulrik Thomsen from precisely the twentieth century, from when he was still a relatively young, particularly urban eighties poet. He was known for his debut “City Slang”, a collection of poems that I associate with keywords like teenagers and containers. The poet was madly in love with the big city, as only a young immigrant from the province can be. Store Kongensgade 23 also marks the distinction here, it was the first time the family lived within the vibrant city of Copenhagen. Thomsen subsequently divided his time between writing poems and essays, and naturally he writes essays with a clear poetic ear, with a great feeling for the sounds and values of words. At times, there is great wording. Thomsen writes some sentences, or periods, which are far too long to be memorized. But what a leap of thought! He plays off the pure jazz improvisations, or equilibristic dribbling series, far too long and out-of-date, we must believe, to be quoted in their entirety, or to be admired in the province. On the threshold of life This essay has become a kind of impressionistic autobiography, which says a lot about what a person is and how it is created, and not least, how it eventually disappears. So if Store Kongensgade 23 is Søren Ulrik Thomsen’s yearning to return to the past, what does it stand for? Well, as a mythological place, it is obviously not open to a single interpretation. But part of the answer is that this apartment stands for a longing back to the seventeen-year-old’s feeling of standing on the threshold of life, that the world, the big city and poetry lie open. The nostalgia is, among other things, the longing for the future. news reviews Photo: Forlaget Press Title: “Store Kongensgade 23” Author: Søren Ulrik Thomsen Genre: Essay Translator: Hilde Rød-Larsen Number of pages: 96 Publisher: Press Date: 2022 Hi! My name is Ola Hegdal, and I read and review books for news. Preferably crime and suspense literature, or non-fiction. Feel free to read my review of “The Anomaly” by Hervé Le Tellier, “You are a farmer” by Kristin Auestad Danielsen or “The Night Runner” by Karin Fossum.
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“Store Kongensgade 23” by Søren Ulrik Thomsen – Reviews and recommendations
