Solitary and sad, yet a vibrant encounter with an author in winter hibernation
Translated from Swedish, summarized and contextualized by DistantNews.
At a glance
- Isabella Nilsson's new book, "Om varmhållning av levande döda," explores the dual power of literature to build up or tear down.
- The novel, structured over a year, begins with a baby's isolation in a incubator and ends with a writer observing a lemon butterfly in winter.
- Nilsson, who has stated she will pause writing for a decade, reflects on literature's past life-saving and current destructive potential.
Isabella Nilsson's latest work, "Om varmhållning av levande döda," delves into the profound and often contradictory impact of literature. The book opens with a stark image of isolation, describing the narrator's first night spent alone in a small incubator, a theme that echoes throughout the narrative. This sense of being frozen, or "isen," is emphasized by the narrator's given names and nicknames, highlighting a pervasive solitude.
Isabella, Isa, Isen – so well my baptismal name as my nicknames lead thoughts to something frozen. No one has ever been inspired to call me Bella. My first night of life I spent alone, placed on a heating pad in a small bed on wheels. The bed resembled a gratin dish with the pad at the bottom and the high glass edges separating me from my surroundings.
The novel, mirroring Nilsson's previous success "Nonsensprinsessans dagbok," unfolds over the course of a year. It transitions from a brief mention of February 2026 to a chronological journey from January to Christmas Eve of the same year. On the final page, the narrator is depicted with a notebook, observing a solitary, pale yellow lemon butterfly that defies the winter season. This image of resilient life contrasts with the introspective and often melancholic tone of the narrative.
Unlike the playful wordplay of her earlier work, "Om varmhållning av levande döda" features a deeply lonely and sorrowful narrator. However, the book also contains tender, playful passages, insightful literary analyses, and thoughtful reflections on prose. The recurring motif of the incubator reappears on the last page, posing a choice between the "incubator of literature for the unviable" and succumbing to self-starvation, obsessions, substance abuse, or suffocating relationships. The lemon butterfly's simple existence, independent of words or people, offers a glimmer of hope for life's persistence.
Rather be put to sleep in literature's incubator for the unviable, than be dulled by self-starvation, entangled in obsessions, knocked out by alcohol and tablets or dazed by a lover's too-tight grip around the neck.
In a recent interview, Nilsson revealed her intention to take a break from writing for the next decade. She described the central question of her new book as whether literature is constructive or destructive, currently concluding that it is destructive, though it has previously saved her life. While "Om varmhållning av levande döda" may not be overtly uplifting, it is far from destructive, perhaps embodying a form of sustained warmth, much like the incubator that cradles life.
But during other phases, it has saved my life.
Originally published by Dagens Nyheter in Swedish. Translated, summarized, and contextualized by our editorial team with added local perspective. Read our editorial standards.