Svenne by Per Nilsson

July 28th, 2008

Per Nilsson
Svenne
286 p.

Månpocket, 2006

Back cover blurb:

- I Sverige ska svenskarna bestämma.
Så kunde han säga.
- I Sverige ska inte EU-byråkraterna i Bryssel bestämma. I Sverige ska inte de multinationella storföretagen bestämma. I Sverige ska inte USA:s president bestämma. I Sverige ska svenskarna bestämma. I Irak ska irakierna bestämma. I Libanon ska libaneserna bestämma. Eller hur?
Så kunde han säga, han som kallade sig Dackeman.

Svenne är en vanlig sjuttonåring från en liten by i södra Sverige. Bara på grund av sitt namn dras han in i ett politiskt spel som varken han eller någon annan riktigt förstår. Ett nytt nationalistiskt parti med en karismatisk partiledare växer sig starkt, och efter ett halvår är Sverige förändrat.
Men allt får sin ände under några dagar av kaos och upplopp. Efter det måste Svenne fly för livet. Han misstänks vara ansvarig för hämndaktioner, mord, misshandel och straffläger. Nu gömmer han sig undan polisen och alla som vill hämnas. Det här är hans berättelse.

This is one of the few books my brother has read. And like the few books he has read, he loved it. (If he would read more I am certain he would adore it, but the rest of my family reads, so I guess that’s why he doesn’t.) In a deal we made, I said I’d read this book, and he’d read a book of my choice. I’ve read this book now, but he hasn’t touched the book I’ve told him to read. (which is a bit lucky - I’m considering changing it to another book.)

Now, this book is basically about the end of the world. Yeah? Yeah. And it could be a real dazzling novel, if the language written was not so damned useless and the story was not told in such a ridiculous way. There are a hundred chapters, and the majority of these chapters begins with “Yeah,” and then a repetition of the last sentence in the previous chapter. Those chapters that did not begin that way, were shoddy poems. The narrator is this Svenne, who accidentally becomes involved in politics (he’s a little daft), and it is narrated to a Muslim girl he meets once. The poems are also dedicated to her, and they are painfully bad. And the language is boring, plain and dull.

There’s nothing really wrong with the story though, except I got a bit bored with all the outrage in the novel, as well as I feel he stretched it too far. It got all a bit over-the-top. (on the plus side, it was subjunctive history!) However, it must be said that it wasn’t a really bad book, but maybe it didn’t really deserve winning Augustpriset. Of course, I know nothing of the other nominees. 2006 was long ago.

Entry Filed under: Fiction, Swedish, Young Adult