The Conqueror by Jan Kjærstad

Author:Jan Kjærstad [Kjærstad, Jan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Mystery, Thrillers, Norwegian Literature, Contemporary, Fiction
ISBN: 9781934824030
Publisher: Open Letter
Published: 1996-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

From the Annals of the Potato Monarchy

‘What was the name of the marshal in command of Napoleon’s I Corps at the battle of Austerlitz?’

The idea, usually, was to come up with the best strategy for life in general: or rather, to achieve immortality, but on this particular evening the matter in hand was the more prosaic one – in both senses of the word – of the tactics for getting the best possible mark for the mock Norwegian exam held just before Christmas, a rehearsal for the actual university Prelim, an essay which tested not only one’s command of the finer points of the Norwegian language, but the whole of one’s shaky way of thinking. The Prelim essay was simply one of those trials that had to be undergone, like the BCG vaccination or the army’s long-distance endurance march.

Viktor and Axel had just finished playing a duet: ‘Someone To Watch Over Me’, meant as a kind of time-out. Viktor played the piano – no one played the piano like Viktor Harlem, the king of melancholy; he could elevate the blandest tune into a melodic heaven or make any tired old standard sound like you’d never heard it before – set free somehow, brand new. His left hand in particular spoke of a true gift, playing around with triads and switching about the notes in the chords as though the possibilities were endless. Axel’s double-bass playing was not up to the same standard, but it was impressive enough. Axel had always sought out the bass line in life anyway – Jonas regarded his fervent interest in the DNA molecule as a variation on this same theme.

Speaking of bass lines in life, I ought perhaps to intimate my doubts regarding the previous story. Because, knowing you, Professor, you will automatically assume that such an apparently shocking incident must have a decisive effect on a person’s development. But what if that were wishful thinking? The episode can, of course, provide some clue as to how Jonas Wergeland sowed the seeds of an acknowledgement that the spectator is the guiltiest of all criminals, but such an insight could also spring from other experiences. At this juncture I am tempted to ask you to forget all about the story from the wood, for the moment at least. I am afraid that it may distract your attention. For what if the really dark holes in Jonas Wergeland’s life lay in the bright stories, or in perfectly ordinary days, or in an incident akin to the one I am about to describe, one that revolves, not around Laila but around the love of Beate?

The Three Wise Men were at Viktor’s place, in Seilduksgata in Grünerløkka, in a cinnabar-red room known as ‘The Bamboo Grove’. Every Friday evening they gathered here – and often stayed all night – to talk and toast his illustrious patron, in the form of an icon on the wall. It was actually Viktor’s mother’s flat, but she had moved in with a new man, so he had the place to himself.

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