The Pets by Bragi Ólafsson

 


The Pets by Bragi Ólafsson - one of the oddest existential novels you'll ever encounter. Two authors, João Reis and Peter Cherches, let me know they love this novel. I can see why.

At his apartment in Reykjavík, Bragi Ólafsson told an interviewer: “With each book, I know less and less who’s doing the writing. There are always fragments of me in my characters, particularly my protagonists, but I’ve never gone so far as to look at a character and say: That’s me! Getting so entangled in their lives and inner lives sometimes makes me believe that I’m a more complex person than I actually am, but by now I can’t point at a single character and claim that it originated within me. I just don’t know any more.”

The Pets is a quirky novel most captivating. In the opening chapter main character Emil Halldorsson tells us he's just returned from his buying binge in London (he recently won the lottery) to his apartment in Reykjavík. He's informed by Tomas, his neighbor, that there was a man in an anorak pounding on his front door earlier in the day.

Who could it be? Emil thinks it might have been Sigurvin, an old work mate or Jaime, a friend from Chile. Anyway, Emil enters his apartment and reflects back on the details of his flight from London and then puts on a CD and leaves a message on linguist Armann Valur's answering machine informing him that he mistakenly picked up Armann's eyeglasses case when he was sitting next to him on the airplane.

Bragi Ólafsson builds suspense thusly: all the odd number chapters of Part One feature Emil recounting his travels from London, especially his meeting a young lady by the name of Greta he's been thinking about for the past fifteen years, a time when Greta emerged from a bedroom fling during a teenage party. The even number chapters chronicle the movements of the mysterious man in the anorak from the time he banged on Emil's door to his reappearance at Emil's apartment.

Part Two opens with Emil recognizing the mystery man in the anorak pounding on his front door yet again as none other than Havard Knutsson, the guy who joined him at a London flat five years ago with disastrous consequences (Havard killed the four animals Emil had responsibility for taking care of). Emil also knows Havard committed other acts of violence (against humans) and has spent the past five years in a Swedish mental institution.

Emil doesn't answer the door but Havard isn't about to go away - Emil watches as Havard climbs in through his kitchen window. Emil promptly scurries to his bedroom and hides under his bed.

And that's where Emil spends the rest of the novel - voyeuristically peeking out from under his bed, beneath overhanging sheets, watching Havard and then a string of others who enter his apartment, among their number: Armann, Greta, Sigurvin, Jaime.

What goes through Emil's mind now that he's a bona fide voyeur? I'll link my comments with Emil's ruminations:

"And at the same time I wonder why the hell one ever wants to get to know other people, or let them take advantage of oneself."

An individual's anxiety, dread, alienation along with an examination of their relationship and responsibility to others play a prominent role in existential literature and these themes are front and center in The Pets.

"I suddenly realize very clearly the ridiculous position I am in and carry on thinking about the problems that one creates for oneself by getting to know various people. One shouldn't let others into one's life."

Georges Simenon wrote dozens of his romans durs, that is, "hard" psychological novels that pushed his protagonist to the edge. In a number of ways, this Bragi Ólafsson tale reminds me of Simenon, however even Simenon didn't come up with anything near as farcical as having his main character's existential crisis occur when hiding under a bed! Bragi, you win the gold metal for originality.

"I still can't believe it. I tell myself that I may be having a nightmare. But just maybe. There is so little chance that it is impossible. In other words, it is reality. It is reality with a capital R; the most emphatic R I have ever experienced in reality."

Emphatic and intense - in this way, Emil shares much with narrator Ishmael from Herman Melville's Moby Dick. Many are the references, both direct and indirect, to Moby Dick in The Pets. As to how and why this is the case, you'll have to read for yourself.

"All at once I feel it is worthwhile huddling here under the bed - it's as if this pathetic confinement has suddenly acquired a purpose."

Ha! Perhaps there's a connection between Emil's voyeurism and the aesthetic distance one needs in order to better appreciate a work of art or drama. I frequently imagined Emil as a one-man audience watching live theater in his very own apartment. Or, perhaps I should say, as one reviewer noted, Emil observing animals in a zoo. Or, maybe a combination of both as in Desmond Morris's The Human Zoo.

"Is the eccentric up there playing with me?"

Emil makes occasional references to God, curious references, that might be lighthearted or somewhat serious. Thus, in a peculiar way, The Pets borders on religious existentialism in the spirit of Gabriel Marcel or Martin Buber. Am I joking? Pick up a copy and judge for yourself.