Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Summary on Goodreads.
"On September 11, 2001, on a desolate beach on the outskirts of Copenhagen, police begin investigating the strange death of an unidentified woman. Surrounding the body are what appear to be offerings to the deceased: a book, a small noose, a dead golden canary, a linden tree branch, and a photo of the Kongslund Orphanage. As the police puzzle over their bizarre findings, the Twin Towers fall in walls of flame and the case is quickly overshadowed by the terror half a world away..." [+ more]
Okay, I'm reading the Spanish version of this book and it is 750 pages. Not really a problem if the story wasn't so slow! This is killing me. Paragraphs and paragraphs and pages and pages of nothing. A lot of words that mount to nothing at all. Something that could be told in one sentence "I received an anonymous letter" takes two pages here. The state of the letter, the stamp, where the letter came from, how it was placed on the desk, how he picked it up from the desk (right or left corner)... this sea of words is just endless!
So the story is about a period where being a single mother was a disgrace, and yet, knowing that, women would get "accidentally" pregnant. The solution, God forbid abortion, was to give the baby for abortion. The thing is that not only low class women got played and got pregnant, prominent families had daughters to succumb to the temptation of the flesh and accidentally become pregnant. So children from rich and prominent families ended up in this orphanage as well. One of these children, the 7th child to be precise, becomes a person (or child?) of interest.
The rest of the story is to find out who this child is, where he is, who the parents are/were, and so on. A thriller, let me tell you, this book is not. A mystery, yes: it is a mystery to me how this author could write so much nonsense.
Of course the story is not only about the child, there is some murder involved too. I really don't know if they are all connected or not because I couldn't keep reading which is a shame because I love Scandinavian thrillers.
The Seventh Child by Erik Valeur