Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir; trans. Brian FitzGibbon
Butterflies in November by Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir, translated by Brian FitzGibbon, is a quirky novel unfolding in the first-person narrative of a quirky, thirty-something, unnamed female narrator. She is a whiz at learning languages but seems a bit of a scatterbrain about life. The novel opens with her lover dumping her and her husband announcing his plans to divorce her as his affair with a co-worker has led to a pregnancy. Our narrator seems totally unfazed by the news, taking it all in stride like an observer on the sidelines. Her demeanor suggests she is afloat, untethered to any person or thing in life.
When her best friend is hospitalized and has no one to take care of her four-year old son, the narrator reluctantly agrees to assume the role of caretaker. The child, Tumi, suffers from hearing loss. With their enormous winnings from a shared lottery ticket, the two of them embark on a road trip circling Iceland’s outer road. They stay in farming hotels, survive a car accident, endure horrendous weather, and are blocked by mudslides. The narrator suffers from a broken wrist and wards off her exes desperately trying to reconcile.
The road trip across Iceland takes on an almost surreal quality. They plow through deserted roads, heavy rain, mudslides, fog, and a sheep that didn’t get off the road in time. Men materialize out of nowhere to help her change a flat tire. A man looms out of the darkness to ask her for a ride. Her ex-boyfriend and then ex-husband show up wanting to take her back. She encounters people who are somewhat strange and with whom she has awkward conversations.
For the first time in her life, the narrator is obliged to take care of an individual who is totally dependent on her for survival. She experiences a profound transformation. She learns responsibility and accountability. She studies sign language to better communicate with him, and looks to him for guidance on food choices and activities. Although she knows nothing about parenting, she gradually learns to perform the role well by becoming sensitive to the child’s needs. Fortunately, Tumi is not a demanding child, so it doesn’t take them long to adapt to each other and form a strong bond.
The novel is engaging on a number of levels but primarily due to the narrator’s voice. She is funny, quirky, forgetful, and doesn’t take herself too seriously. Her attitude about marriage, relationships, sexual encounters, divorce, adultery, and children are somewhat off kilter. She eschews conventional behavior and niceties, is oblivious to the needs of others, is independent and unpredictable, and doesn’t seem invested in any relationship until she bonds with Tumi. She is baffled that men find her attractive but willingly engages in casual sex even with a complete stranger.
This is a whimsical novel that includes flashbacks of the narrator’s childhood, random events, and Icelandic food recipes. The narrative is choppy at times. One event or thought catapults to a completely unrelated item with no apparent connection. This could be due to the translation or to the vagaries of a narrator with a short attention span. In spite of this, the novel is engaging. Iceland’s topography with its lava fields and uninhabited landscape is evoked in vivid detail. And the narrator’s voice is endearing as she deals with various mishaps and challenges while expressing her quirky, unconventional opinions.