My Brother and his Brother E-Book

Hakan Lindquist

• Herausgeber: Bruno Gmünder Verlag
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2012

Seitenzahl: 198

Beschreibung

A novel about two brothers. The story is told by one of them, Jonas, an 18 year old boy. Throughout his teenage years he has been trying to get an image of Paul, the brother he never met; a brother who died at the age of 16, the year before Jonas himself was born. In his search for his brother, Jonas soon finds out that Paul had an intense love affair with another boy during the last year of his life. Step by Step Jonas reveals the secret love and life of his brother Paul. Lindquist convinces the reader with his beautiful language and a story that is touching and incredibly exciting at the same time. My Brother and his Brother received very good reviews when it first appeared in Sweden, and soon new editions followed as well as several translations. The novel has been published in Denmark, Norway, Belgium, Hungary, Iceland, France, Germany and Italy.

Leseprobe

Håkan LindquistMY BROTHER AND HIS BROTHER

Håkan Lindquist was born in Oskarshamn, a small harbor town on the southeast coast of Sweden; it is the setting for his debut novel, the critically acclaimed “My Brother and His Brother.” The book received a literary award – “Prix Littéraire de la Bordelaise de Lunetterie” – in 2002, when it was first published in France. Lindquist has written five novels, several short stories and one opera libretto. His novels and short stories have been translated and published in several European countries. “My Brother and His Brother” is the first of his novels to appear in English.

More about the author at http://hakanlindquist.blogspot.com/; he can be emailed at [email protected].

MY BROTHER ANDHIS BROTHER

a novel byHåkan Lindquist

Translated from the Swedish by the author.Original title: Min bror och hans bror.

My Brother and His Brother

Copyright © 2011 Bruno Gmünder Verlag GmbH

Kleiststraße 23-26, 10787 Berlin, Germany

[email protected]

Original title: Min bror och hans bror

Copyright © Håkan Lindquist 2002

Translated from the Swedish by the author

Copyright © Håkan Lindquist 2010

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

Cover art: Frank Schröder

Cover photo: Copyright © Howard Roffman

www.HowardRoffman.com

Printed in South Korea

ISBN: 978-3-86787-085-6

More information about Bruno Gmünder books and authors:

www.brunogmuender.com

“Eternity is in love with the productions of time.”

— William Blake“The Marriage of Heaven and Hell”

To the memory of my beloved brother Arne

Håkan Lindquist

1

There are five hundred and two days between the last day of your life and the first day of mine. Still, you have always been present, more or less.

My first true image of you was the school photograph that used to stand on top of the television in the living room. You are a thirteen-year-old boy who looks like my mother. Your hair is rather long, well groomed and dark. Just like Mother’s. You don’t smile in the picture. You don’t look at me. Instead, your eyes are focused on something far beyond the camera and the schoolmates. I am an almost three-year-old boy standing in front of the television set looking up at your picture. The balcony door by my side is open. Flakes of snow find their way into the warmth. They whirl around your picture before they reach the floor and melt.

“Who’s that?” I ask my parents.

“It’s your brother,” Mother replies, closing the balcony door. “It’s your brother Paul.”

“He died before you were born,” Father explains.

But I’m cold and much too small to understand.

I am looking at your picture. Sometimes, if I’m sad, it seems you are sad too. When I’m happy, I believe I can see a secret smile on your lips.

I was standing there looking at the picture of you. I couldn’t comprehend that you were my brother and that you were dead. It was a thought much too abstract for me. My family meant Mother, Father, and myself. You were still just a thought. Or, maybe, a wish.

When I grew older—this must have been when I started to school—I began to ask my parents about you. I wanted to know who you were, what you had done, with whom you had played. For you must have played, Paul, you were just a child when you died.