Review by New York Times Review
Nors presents a range of voices and offbeat images in these 15 unsettling and poetic stories. Some pieces, like one about a four-pound tomato, are oddly beautiful; others are brilliantly disturbing. In "Female Killers," a man surfing the Internet follows the trail of his own thoughts about female serial killers, his musing on their choices subtly menacing in its own way. He sympathizes with Aileen Wuornos's son, who will one day learn his mother's name and Google her, only to find a catalog of horrors. Nors follows pain down unusual paths: Another character, weeping after the dissolution of her marriage, says, "To make it keep on hurting, I imagined I ate up all the grass, all the cows, all the birds. I pictured myself stuffing the meadow, the stream, its banks, and soil into my mouth." What would be brief moments of interiority in another story make entire arcs here. Some emotional unwindings are rooted in familiar traumas - parents' divorce, a breakup - while others begin with seemingly innocent moments, such as a girl's father telling her she can care for a sickly duck. When her plan to keep it warm in the oven fails, "we buried it together behind the machine shed in a plastic bag, and he let me fill up the hole myself." V.V. GANESHANANTHAN is the author of a novel, "Love Marriage."
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [March 9, 2014]
Review by Booklist Review
Acclaimed Danish novelist Nors could not have picked a more appropriate title for her new collection. These stories are swift and unexpected and bruising. Nors' insight into the strange nuances of human interactions, especially those rooted in violence or sorrow, is keen to the point of vivisection. In the span of two pages, she is able to both build and unmake a character, achieving the same complexity that other writers require entire novels to establish. What's more, her protagonists are familiar and unsettling, with characteristics that echo in our psyches and ask us to call into question all we assume about ourselves and others. Karate Chop is the first of Nors' books to be translated to English but certainly won't be the last. Lovers of the art of literary fiction, students of psychology, and everyone looking for a quick, thought-provoking read should all indulge themselves in the subversive delight of this short story collection.--Peckham, Amber Copyright 2010 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
These very short works (most are no more than three pages, the longest is roughly eight) are as sharp-edged, destructive, and intentionally made as the title suggests. Nowhere here is a word out of place. Imagine Grace Paley with more than a little of Mary Gaitskill's keen eye for the despair and violence of sex, mixed with an otherness that's unsettlingly odd and vivid. The sentences are brightly visual and attuned to the weird details of each character's inner world. In "Janus," protagonist Louise lies in bed after losing her virginity. She follows her thoughts to an afternoon spent licking envelopes at her father's office, where she had an intimate daydream about one addressee. "There he had lain under his white linen, smelling of duvet, and Louise had wanted to cry." Nors's stories (most like Paley in this way) have multiple stories within them, holding hands with each other. In "Female Killers," Nors writes, "Maybe that's why she opens doors in the mind. Doors, stairwells, pantries." Each of these pages contains a trapdoor, a side entrance, and, at times, they feel like dispatches from an alien world (or maybe the basement). Nors's writing doesn't just observe the details of life-online searches, laundry, fantasies, conversations with semi-strangers, compulsions-it offers a marvelous, truthful take on how these details illustrate our souls. (Feb.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Kirkus Book Review
The first English publication of this Danish author of five novels consists of 15 oblique, very short stories, many of them about isolated people struggling to connect. A depressed actress abandons the artifice of Copenhagen, searching for authenticity in a remote part of the country to dissipate her psychological fog, but she ends up in a literal one ("The Wadden Sea"). The 35-year-old in "She Frequented Cemeteries" may have met the man of her dreams, or she may be living in a fantasy world; Nors artfully leaves both possibilities open. Annelise, in the title story, makes bad choices with men, ignoring red flags, but her revenge on the sexual sadist Carl Erik is a last-sentence shocker. The disturbed female narrator of "The Heron" has given up on human contact; she would settle for proximity to a tame bird. These stories are, in varying degrees, arresting. "Flight," which contrasts actual and metaphorical space as it sketches a woman after a breakup, is more banal, as is "The Winter Garden": Here, after his parents' divorce, their self-possessed son realizes his dad is the truly needy one. Not all the stories adhere to this isolation/connection model. "The Big Tomato," set in Manhattan, pokes fun at excess. A wealthy Danish couple, expats, receives a 4-pound tomato from their online grocer, to the bemusement of their Mexican cleaner and Albanian laundryman on the other side of the class divide. Another New York story, "Nat Newsom," is much darker. The eponymous Nat, a panhandler, retains his optimism despite physical handicaps and hard knocks. A Columbia professor, researching navet, eyes him as a subject, then contemptuously dismisses him as "too odd." It's a chilling look at the academic hustle. Nors is just as mordant in her treatment of a self-aggrandizing charlatan who reinvents himself as a Buddhist to become head of an aid organization, which he then rips off ("The Buddhist"). These amuse-bouches are a fine introduction to the author's work.]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
