Until only a few years ago, I used to consider myself a staunch feminist.
Then, a new generation of Swedish young women appeared, making my egalitarian view seem rather obsolete.
Sveland is only a half a decade younger than I, yet I tend to brand her one of the ultras.
Here, she takes yet another swing at the nuclear family, alcoholism and feminism.
Not particularly joyful topics, admittedly, yet the problem lies elsewhere : She is a journalist and writes as such; a concise, uneventful style and important social pathos.
Although social pathos is praiseworthy indeed, it does not, regrettably, suffice to produce good literature. Sveland's writing is uninspired and abounds with clichés, and I almost threw away this book after a mere fifty pages. The only reason I hung in there was the ease with which you read it.
Another of my issues with Sveland - whom I appreciate as a journalist, I must point out! - is that I utterly fail to recognize myself or identify with her characters.
I suppose I must have led a far happier life than she, or perhaps I am just totally mislead by the patriarchy. Either way I figure I'm far better off for it!