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The Waiter
In a centuries-old European restaurant called The Hills, a middle-aged waiter takes pride in the unchangeable aspects of his job. Into this static word a young woman walks through the door and upsets the delicate balance of the restaurant and all it has come to represent.
247 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2017
About the author
Matias Faldbakken
23 books221 followersMatias Faldbakken (born 1973 in Hobro, Denmark) is a Norwegian artist and writer. Faldbakken studied at the National Academy of Fine Arts in Bergen and the Städelschule in Frankfurt am Main. He is the son of the author Knut Faldbakken and brother of film director Stefan Faldbakken. [wikipedia]
His first three books were published under the pseudonym Abo Rasul.
His first three books were published under the pseudonym Abo Rasul.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 371 reviews
April 3, 2020
➽ book 13 out of 100
This book has to be one of the most boring and pointless books I have ever read. No shame to anyone who digs this but wow. This just felt so weird and old fashioned. I genuinely would have believed this to have been written in the 1930s if the author had taken out the few mentions of iPhones. I also can’t even really give you a synopsis of the plot because literally nothing happens. I’m not exaggerating. There is literally no semblance of plot anywhere to be found. The most exciting thing that happens in this book is when the main character (who is unnamed and has no personality traits beyond working in food service) accidentally takes the wrong dish to a table he is serving. I wish I was joking.
The thing is, this would be all well and good if the book was backed up by something else. Unfortunately, the writing is very plain and the author hasn’t taken any stylistic risks or done anything interesting with the storytelling. If there’s any humour, it’s completely lost on me. And on top of that, the characters are boring and blend into one. The majority of the characters aren’t even named and just referred to as ‘the Bar Manager’ or something equally as literal. So a lack of plot, good prose, interesting characters, and humour really doesn’t make for something I would like to read.
It’s a shame because I feel like the concept of this novel could be very interesting. I personally think if the main narrative was between the customers and their whole story is told within the backdrop of a high class restaurant, and the nosey waiter being the narrator, that could be a story that is interesting and unique. Unfortunately this is not what happened, and we experience a slice-of-life style story about a person we know literally nothing about, nor should we care about.
I’m pretty sure the author thinks he’s J.D. Sallinger because this was one of the most pretentious and boring books I’ve ever read. I can’t wait to never think about this again.
read for book roast's O.W.L's Magical Readathon
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This book has to be one of the most boring and pointless books I have ever read. No shame to anyone who digs this but wow. This just felt so weird and old fashioned. I genuinely would have believed this to have been written in the 1930s if the author had taken out the few mentions of iPhones. I also can’t even really give you a synopsis of the plot because literally nothing happens. I’m not exaggerating. There is literally no semblance of plot anywhere to be found. The most exciting thing that happens in this book is when the main character (who is unnamed and has no personality traits beyond working in food service) accidentally takes the wrong dish to a table he is serving. I wish I was joking.
The thing is, this would be all well and good if the book was backed up by something else. Unfortunately, the writing is very plain and the author hasn’t taken any stylistic risks or done anything interesting with the storytelling. If there’s any humour, it’s completely lost on me. And on top of that, the characters are boring and blend into one. The majority of the characters aren’t even named and just referred to as ‘the Bar Manager’ or something equally as literal. So a lack of plot, good prose, interesting characters, and humour really doesn’t make for something I would like to read.
It’s a shame because I feel like the concept of this novel could be very interesting. I personally think if the main narrative was between the customers and their whole story is told within the backdrop of a high class restaurant, and the nosey waiter being the narrator, that could be a story that is interesting and unique. Unfortunately this is not what happened, and we experience a slice-of-life style story about a person we know literally nothing about, nor should we care about.
I’m pretty sure the author thinks he’s J.D. Sallinger because this was one of the most pretentious and boring books I’ve ever read. I can’t wait to never think about this again.
read for book roast's O.W.L's Magical Readathon
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September 19, 2018
The Hills Restaurant in Oslo,Norway dates back to the mid 1800's. Steeped in tradition, diners experience Old World ambiance despite the restaurant's run down condition. The staff of waiters, bar managers, maitre d's and in-house pianists follow the old Ben Franklin quote, "A place for everything, everything in its place". We spend time in this finely-tuned, well ordered eatery as seen through the eyes and actions of the waiter. The waiter feels "it's all about eating here, and I'm a facilitator...I wait... I please".
The middle-aged waiter has worked for the Hills Restaurant for the past thirteen years. The tables are set "just so". A waiter is "supposed to have a comfortable degree of invisibility...to make objects come and go without [the waiter] being noticed." The routine never changes. The waiter provides impeccable service especially to the regular customers.
Graham aka "The Pig" and his entourage sit at table 10. The Pig is a wealthy introvert who is always dressed "to the nines". Tom Seller's group can be drunk and disorderly. This behavior is overlooked since Sellers has secured artwork for the restaurant from various Contemporary artists. These gems are pleasantly interspersed on the walls between older works. Each table is its own universe, that is, until an unexpected guest disturbs the balance.
A waiter should have "a blank but obliging face to the guests...A poker face". For our waiter, this is no longer possible. Mistakes are made. Can you believe one of the tables ordered their meal in reverse order starting from dessert? The waiter is beside himself.
"The Waiter" by Matias Faldbakken is a quirky, humorous novel displaying crumbling behavior in a well worn establishment. It seems that the waiter and regular staff have been living under a rock. The absurd happens when change occurs. I found the first half of the novel to be delightful, that said, the second half did not work as well for me.
Thank you Gallery/Scout Press for the opportunity to read and review "The Waiter".
The middle-aged waiter has worked for the Hills Restaurant for the past thirteen years. The tables are set "just so". A waiter is "supposed to have a comfortable degree of invisibility...to make objects come and go without [the waiter] being noticed." The routine never changes. The waiter provides impeccable service especially to the regular customers.
Graham aka "The Pig" and his entourage sit at table 10. The Pig is a wealthy introvert who is always dressed "to the nines". Tom Seller's group can be drunk and disorderly. This behavior is overlooked since Sellers has secured artwork for the restaurant from various Contemporary artists. These gems are pleasantly interspersed on the walls between older works. Each table is its own universe, that is, until an unexpected guest disturbs the balance.
A waiter should have "a blank but obliging face to the guests...A poker face". For our waiter, this is no longer possible. Mistakes are made. Can you believe one of the tables ordered their meal in reverse order starting from dessert? The waiter is beside himself.
"The Waiter" by Matias Faldbakken is a quirky, humorous novel displaying crumbling behavior in a well worn establishment. It seems that the waiter and regular staff have been living under a rock. The absurd happens when change occurs. I found the first half of the novel to be delightful, that said, the second half did not work as well for me.
Thank you Gallery/Scout Press for the opportunity to read and review "The Waiter".
January 9, 2019
This book was just not for me. It was plotless and pointless. The first 10 0pages of the book was observations of a waiter about people I didn't know, and was not introduced by the author.
There's no character development or a clear plot, just ramblings of a waiter.
I skimmed through the last part and the closure is even not satisfactory. So, Was not a good experience.
There's no character development or a clear plot, just ramblings of a waiter.
I skimmed through the last part and the closure is even not satisfactory. So, Was not a good experience.
August 5, 2022
Was one of those "forget I read it before" kinds of read unfortunately I did not enjoy this more in my reread. Not my cup of tea
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Didn't understand the purpose of this book, or what it tried to say it was just very boring and pointless for me.
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Didn't understand the purpose of this book, or what it tried to say it was just very boring and pointless for me.
December 29, 2018
Literary fiction rated below 3.5 stars is totally my jam. The narrative voice, the minutiae of the waiter’s ceaseless daily routine, and his close observations of the regular diners and the interior details they let slip through cracks in their public personae, are all absorbing.
Some things I didn’t like: I agree with others that the first half works much better than the second half (the unraveling is a bit absurd). Also, huge eyeroll to the catalyst being the arrival of the Child Lady, a beautiful woman of indeterminate age, both attractive and repelling. If there are still men who can’t function in the presence of a woman they don’t understand, they need to cut that shit out.
Some tidbits I loved:
“Call me old-fashioned, but changing what cannot be improved is also known as decline.”
“I’m not saying there’s any kind of betrayal in fishing out a device rather than rustling the paper; all I’m saying is that it’s noted.”
“Sometimes, when I overhear what is said at the tables, it’s not really possible to distinguish between genuine statements and parody.”
Some things I didn’t like: I agree with others that the first half works much better than the second half (the unraveling is a bit absurd). Also, huge eyeroll to the catalyst being the arrival of the Child Lady, a beautiful woman of indeterminate age, both attractive and repelling. If there are still men who can’t function in the presence of a woman they don’t understand, they need to cut that shit out.
Some tidbits I loved:
“Call me old-fashioned, but changing what cannot be improved is also known as decline.”
“I’m not saying there’s any kind of betrayal in fishing out a device rather than rustling the paper; all I’m saying is that it’s noted.”
“Sometimes, when I overhear what is said at the tables, it’s not really possible to distinguish between genuine statements and parody.”
July 18, 2018
1.5/5 stars (rounded down)
What the hell did I just read??
It is a shame when such a pretty cover hides such a useless book. My reaction when I was finished with the book? "What in the world did I just read??"
Like living in a snow globe, The Waiter is a captivating study in miniature. Everything is just so, and that’s exactly how the waiter needs it to be. One can understand why he becomes anxious when things begin to change. In fact, given the circumstances, anxiety just might be the most sensible response...
Sure, the synopsis sold me on this book, even though I was already so intrigued by the beautiful cover, but did the book deliver? Absolutely not.
It wasn't a study in miniature, it wasn't study of chaos as it erupted around an anxious waiter - it was a mess of neurotic thoughts, random encounters, angry and derogatory ramblings and bunch of "important" names thrown around. Add the unresolved ending on topped all you have is a big floppy mess of nothing.
My first problem with this book was that it made you feel left out - the waiter would ramble on about things, and places and names that I knew nothing about, or barely knew, and honestly a person who hasn't ever been to Europe probably wouldn't know either. It felt as if the book was written for a very small, specific audience, and at times it even felt as if the reader wasn't necessary at all.
Surprisingly, there were things that I really liked. I liked waiters views on clothing - how we like to wear brand clothing because we think it makes us original, that it creates our own personal style, but in reality we are just parading somebody else's ideas, specifically a designers who made the clothing. So instead of being original and distinguished we are no more than just a walking commercial for those clothes. I thought that was absolutely brilliant way to look at it and I definitely agree with it.
I decided to read the whole thing because I wanted to see how it would play out. Now that I did, I wish I just abandoned it (I had to skim the last 30% - I was quite bored). The ending didn't wrap anything up, didn't close any loops or holes, and it did't explain anything at all. Which made the whole reading experience pointless to me.
Big thanks to NetGalley and Gallery, Threshold, Pocket books for providing an advanced e-ARC for a review. All opinions are my own, honest and come from the heart.
My WEBSITE
My INSTAGRAM
What the hell did I just read??
It is a shame when such a pretty cover hides such a useless book. My reaction when I was finished with the book? "What in the world did I just read??"
Like living in a snow globe, The Waiter is a captivating study in miniature. Everything is just so, and that’s exactly how the waiter needs it to be. One can understand why he becomes anxious when things begin to change. In fact, given the circumstances, anxiety just might be the most sensible response...
Sure, the synopsis sold me on this book, even though I was already so intrigued by the beautiful cover, but did the book deliver? Absolutely not.
It wasn't a study in miniature, it wasn't study of chaos as it erupted around an anxious waiter - it was a mess of neurotic thoughts, random encounters, angry and derogatory ramblings and bunch of "important" names thrown around. Add the unresolved ending on topped all you have is a big floppy mess of nothing.
My first problem with this book was that it made you feel left out - the waiter would ramble on about things, and places and names that I knew nothing about, or barely knew, and honestly a person who hasn't ever been to Europe probably wouldn't know either. It felt as if the book was written for a very small, specific audience, and at times it even felt as if the reader wasn't necessary at all.
Surprisingly, there were things that I really liked. I liked waiters views on clothing - how we like to wear brand clothing because we think it makes us original, that it creates our own personal style, but in reality we are just parading somebody else's ideas, specifically a designers who made the clothing. So instead of being original and distinguished we are no more than just a walking commercial for those clothes. I thought that was absolutely brilliant way to look at it and I definitely agree with it.
I decided to read the whole thing because I wanted to see how it would play out. Now that I did, I wish I just abandoned it (I had to skim the last 30% - I was quite bored). The ending didn't wrap anything up, didn't close any loops or holes, and it did't explain anything at all. Which made the whole reading experience pointless to me.
Big thanks to NetGalley and Gallery, Threshold, Pocket books for providing an advanced e-ARC for a review. All opinions are my own, honest and come from the heart.
My WEBSITE
My INSTAGRAM
November 23, 2020
Der Verlag preist The Hills auf dem Backcover, als den Roman zur Zeitenwende an. Eine Einschätzung mit der man der kleinen feinen Geschichte leider keinen Gefallen tut. Denn es handelt sich mitnichten um einen großen Gesellschaftsroman, sondern eher um ein intimes Kammerspiel. Aus Perspektive eines Kellners erlebt man das Treiben im noblen Osloer Traditionslokal The Hills. Eine harmonische Welt tradierter Werte, in der sich alles vom Teller bis zum alten Pianisten an seinem angestammten Platz befindet und selbst die Gäste höchsten Ansprüchen an Stil und Geschmack genügen müssen. Dieses feingetunte Räderwerk gerät allerdings aus dem Takt, als eines Tages eine junge Frau im Gefolge eines Stammgastes im Restaurant auftaucht. Der Kellner, ein nervöser Charakter, über dessen Vorleben man nicht viel erfährt, verliert in Folge zunehmend die Contenance. Unordnung und Unruhe breiten sich im The Hills aus. Zumindest aus Sicht des Kellners, denn von außen betrachtet, passiert eigentlich nichts Gravierendes.
An diesem Punkt scheitert auch der erhobene Anspruch einer gewissen Allgemeingültigkeit der erzählten Geschichte. Denn es deuten einige Anzeichen darauf, dass der Kellner kein einfacher Durchschnittstyp mittleren Alters ist, der mit der Moderne (soziale Medien usw.) nicht mehr Schritt hält. Vielmehr handelt es sich um einen sehr intelligenten, zu seinem Nachteil aber leider hochsensiblen Menschen. Die Arbeit im Restaurant und die immer gleichen Abläufe bilden ein für ihn notwendiges Gerüst, an dem er sein Leben ausrichten kann, ohne gänzlich den Halt zu verlieren. Aus diesem Grund taugt die Figur des Kellners eher weniger als Stellvertreter, für das dem gesellschaftlichen Wandel ausgesetzte Individuum. Dafür weicht seine psychische Verfassung zu sehr von der Norm ab. Vermutlich hatte Matias Faldbakken allerdings das genaue Gegenteil im Sinn. Die erkennbare pathologische Neurose der Hauptfigur und Erzählers, gibt das meiner Meinung nach aber nicht her. Was an The Hills zweifellos überzeugt, ist die Darstellung des Mikrokosmos der gehobenen Gastronomie. Auch das Spiel zwischen den Gästen und dem Personal, fand ich recht amüsant. Wer sich gerne den feineren Seiten des Lebens zuwendet, kommt hier auf jeden Fall auf seine Kosten.
An diesem Punkt scheitert auch der erhobene Anspruch einer gewissen Allgemeingültigkeit der erzählten Geschichte. Denn es deuten einige Anzeichen darauf, dass der Kellner kein einfacher Durchschnittstyp mittleren Alters ist, der mit der Moderne (soziale Medien usw.) nicht mehr Schritt hält. Vielmehr handelt es sich um einen sehr intelligenten, zu seinem Nachteil aber leider hochsensiblen Menschen. Die Arbeit im Restaurant und die immer gleichen Abläufe bilden ein für ihn notwendiges Gerüst, an dem er sein Leben ausrichten kann, ohne gänzlich den Halt zu verlieren. Aus diesem Grund taugt die Figur des Kellners eher weniger als Stellvertreter, für das dem gesellschaftlichen Wandel ausgesetzte Individuum. Dafür weicht seine psychische Verfassung zu sehr von der Norm ab. Vermutlich hatte Matias Faldbakken allerdings das genaue Gegenteil im Sinn. Die erkennbare pathologische Neurose der Hauptfigur und Erzählers, gibt das meiner Meinung nach aber nicht her. Was an The Hills zweifellos überzeugt, ist die Darstellung des Mikrokosmos der gehobenen Gastronomie. Auch das Spiel zwischen den Gästen und dem Personal, fand ich recht amüsant. Wer sich gerne den feineren Seiten des Lebens zuwendet, kommt hier auf jeden Fall auf seine Kosten.
July 6, 2021
“Čakám. Som úslužný. Pohybujem sa po podniku a prijímam objednávky, nalievam a odpratávam.”
A pozoruje svet a ľudí.
O čašníkovi z reštaurácie The Hills, nášho sprievodcu touto v tejto knihe, nevieme prakticky takmer nič. Nedozvieme sa ani len to, ako sa volá, môžeme si len domyslieť, že je samotársky typ s pozorovacím talentom a sebakontrolou. Teda… väčšinou.
Niektorí tejto knihe vyčítajú, že je o ničom. Ale v skutočnosti je chvíľami o všetkom, čo nás obklopuje. Bezmenný čašník ako nenápadný porozovateľ sveta glosuje hostí reštaurácie i súčasnú dobu, pózy, ktoré v nej zaujímame, záplavy nezmyslov, ktorými sme denne zasypávaní. Veľmi jemne a pomaly Matias Faldbakken nastavuje spoločnosti zrkadlo, núti nás cez svoje postavy zamyslieť sa nad jej absurdnými trendmi, vysmieva ich.
“Každodenné telo nemá žiadu príťažlivosť, pretože sa na človeka vo dne v noci tlačí lahodiace ženské telo. V poriadku. Ale na druhej strane je lahodiace a zdanlivo atraktívne ženské telo - ktoré človeku zostáva ako objekt túžby po tom, čo sa každodenné telo stalo nedbytočným - spojené s tou najodpornejšou formou speňažovania, do tej miery, že sa raz a navždy ako atraktívne samo anuluje. Toto je telo, ktoré ak naň uprene hľadíte, uprene hľadí na vás. A oči, ktoré vidíte, sú oči kupca. Opálené dievčenské telo so stovkami tisíc drepov na tričku a s miliónmi nasledovateľov na sociálnych sieťach je tvárovou maskou kupca.”
Jeho kniha nebude baviť všetkých. Možno budete mať pocit, že je to zvláštne čítanie, ale budete ako ja stále chcieť pokračovať a po poslednej stránke vám celá tá spoločnosť, vrátane čašníka, čo vám niekedy pôjde na nervy, bude tak nejako chýbať. Ako spomienka na niečo pekné, čoho cenu ste si uvedomili až po čase.
Na pohľad je reštaurácia The Hills miestom, kde sa nič závratné nedeje, ale ak budete pozorne vnímať, objavíte celkom dosť.
A pozoruje svet a ľudí.
O čašníkovi z reštaurácie The Hills, nášho sprievodcu touto v tejto knihe, nevieme prakticky takmer nič. Nedozvieme sa ani len to, ako sa volá, môžeme si len domyslieť, že je samotársky typ s pozorovacím talentom a sebakontrolou. Teda… väčšinou.
Niektorí tejto knihe vyčítajú, že je o ničom. Ale v skutočnosti je chvíľami o všetkom, čo nás obklopuje. Bezmenný čašník ako nenápadný porozovateľ sveta glosuje hostí reštaurácie i súčasnú dobu, pózy, ktoré v nej zaujímame, záplavy nezmyslov, ktorými sme denne zasypávaní. Veľmi jemne a pomaly Matias Faldbakken nastavuje spoločnosti zrkadlo, núti nás cez svoje postavy zamyslieť sa nad jej absurdnými trendmi, vysmieva ich.
“Každodenné telo nemá žiadu príťažlivosť, pretože sa na človeka vo dne v noci tlačí lahodiace ženské telo. V poriadku. Ale na druhej strane je lahodiace a zdanlivo atraktívne ženské telo - ktoré človeku zostáva ako objekt túžby po tom, čo sa každodenné telo stalo nedbytočným - spojené s tou najodpornejšou formou speňažovania, do tej miery, že sa raz a navždy ako atraktívne samo anuluje. Toto je telo, ktoré ak naň uprene hľadíte, uprene hľadí na vás. A oči, ktoré vidíte, sú oči kupca. Opálené dievčenské telo so stovkami tisíc drepov na tričku a s miliónmi nasledovateľov na sociálnych sieťach je tvárovou maskou kupca.”
Jeho kniha nebude baviť všetkých. Možno budete mať pocit, že je to zvláštne čítanie, ale budete ako ja stále chcieť pokračovať a po poslednej stránke vám celá tá spoločnosť, vrátane čašníka, čo vám niekedy pôjde na nervy, bude tak nejako chýbať. Ako spomienka na niečo pekné, čoho cenu ste si uvedomili až po čase.
Na pohľad je reštaurácia The Hills miestom, kde sa nič závratné nedeje, ale ak budete pozorne vnímať, objavíte celkom dosť.
January 6, 2019
Thanks go to Net Galley and Doubleday for the review copy. I am sorry to be so late here; the truth is that I kept setting it aside because I didn’t like it, and then returning to it, thinking that I was missing something. I’ve given up on finding the magic, though there are some nice moments here; I also have a strong hunch that there may be a cultural barrier in play. Those that spend time in Europe, possibly with some Scandinavian background, may enjoy this in a way that I didn’t.
The setting is a fine restaurant in Norway, and the protagonist is of course the waiter. The author pokes fun at the pretensions of everyone present. I like satire and dislike pretension, and so I expected to like this book. There are some clever character sketches, and that’s where I am able to engage, but a character sketch is by definition a brief thing, and so I am quickly disengaged again. I feel like the same joke is being made a different way a great many times, and the “neurotic waiter whose wit is sharp as a filleting knife” (to quote the teaser, more or less) seems not just sharp or witty, but downright vicious. And here it isn’t just a lack of connection that gets in my way; I recoil at some of the passages.
The book is supposed to appeal to everyone that likes food and wine, spends time in restaurants, or has European sensibilities. Food and restaurants are a match; but I don’t keep wine in the house and have no European sensibilities at all, apart from a few Irish habits passed down over generations. So maybe foodies that spend time in Europe will respond better than I have. In order to see print in other languages than the original, the novel must have met with acclaim locally, and this is why it confuses me that my own response is so negative. But a reviewer can only write her own viewpoint, and mine is that this book isn’t funny, and I don’t recommend it.
The setting is a fine restaurant in Norway, and the protagonist is of course the waiter. The author pokes fun at the pretensions of everyone present. I like satire and dislike pretension, and so I expected to like this book. There are some clever character sketches, and that’s where I am able to engage, but a character sketch is by definition a brief thing, and so I am quickly disengaged again. I feel like the same joke is being made a different way a great many times, and the “neurotic waiter whose wit is sharp as a filleting knife” (to quote the teaser, more or less) seems not just sharp or witty, but downright vicious. And here it isn’t just a lack of connection that gets in my way; I recoil at some of the passages.
The book is supposed to appeal to everyone that likes food and wine, spends time in restaurants, or has European sensibilities. Food and restaurants are a match; but I don’t keep wine in the house and have no European sensibilities at all, apart from a few Irish habits passed down over generations. So maybe foodies that spend time in Europe will respond better than I have. In order to see print in other languages than the original, the novel must have met with acclaim locally, and this is why it confuses me that my own response is so negative. But a reviewer can only write her own viewpoint, and mine is that this book isn’t funny, and I don’t recommend it.
April 15, 2019
No real plot. The author is trying his hand at “edgy misogyny.” Pretty cover art, though.
December 29, 2019
150'de dnf. Ne hikaye ne de karakterler aslaa umrumda değil. Bitirmek için kendimi zorladım ama daha fazla devam edemeyeceğim. Durum hikayesi seven okuyabilir pek benlik değil.
October 20, 2018
I realize this book is translated from the Norwegian, and I need to take into account all the issues translations bring with them, but I probably need to preface this review with the disclaimer that this may be the least enjoyable book I’ve read this year (you’re off the hook Hubert Selby and Tevi Troy, but still looking at you Han Kang as the lifetime champion). “The Waiter” is verbose, navel gazing, pretentious, and utterly, utterly without a reason for its existence.
Ok, a bit harsh perhaps. But seriously, why is this book even a thing? The first 100 or so pages are literally “the waiter” observing his wealthy clientele at the upscale restaurant he works at. There are times when he interacts with a thoroughly colorless and uninteresting staff but other than that nothing happens. Nothing.
Well, to be fair there are countless internal random dialogues that he subjects us to. I’ll give two examples because more than that….I wouldn’t subject my worst enemy to. The first, as he heads into the restaurants spacious underground cellar to fetch some tomatoes. Three pages later after a seemingly endless description about the interior of this underground warehouse we get this:
“I take out two Niepoorts, but as I try to close the drawer by giving it a hard shove with my hip, I manage to trap my left hand something awful. What do you call the edge of your hand, or the back of the hand right down by the lower side of the little finger, where the back of the hand turns into the palm? What do you call it, by the wrist joint at the bottom? What the hell’s that called, the bit between the wrist and the little finger’s joint, the karate chop part, the hand knife? Is it the hypothenar muscle? Is that the word I’ve heard? The bit which gets paralyzed if you hit your elbow, if you give your nervus ulnaris a jolt, if you bang your so-called funny bone and experience what the Norwegians call widower’s grief, because it’s over so quickly, and your little and ring fingers are often paralyzed. That’s the part I manage to trap.”
Did you make it to the end of that? I barely did. You hurt your hand. Got it. Don’t need an entire paragraph of you mentally name checking what part of your hand might be hurt. Are you a surgeon or a waiter? If that paragraph isn’t why writers employ editors, I don’t know what is.
Then there is this:
“I think Graham is three score years. How old do you think the girl could be? One? One and a half score? She can’t be any more than one and three quarters. There’s no way. And no younger than one score. Could she? Seven-eighths? No. She must be a full score, at the very least.”
I will give it credit for it’s relative brevity considering the other digressive transgressions this book inflicted on me but “scores”? Not once. Not twice. Four times, not counting the fractions. Is he Abraham Lincoln? Who talks like this? If someone started talking to you about how score old someone looked, you’d probably do what I’d do and remember what your mama told you, “Don’t make eye contact with or engage crazy people”.
I could say the book becomes slightly more interesting in the last 30 or so pages but at that point, you’re just hate reading and it’s a moot point.
If anyone tries to tell you that this book is a social commentary on the social mores, a critique of capitalism, or some other pseudo intellectual nonsense, my advice to you is simple.
Think of this book as the proverbial crazy person and just remember what your mama told you.
Ok, a bit harsh perhaps. But seriously, why is this book even a thing? The first 100 or so pages are literally “the waiter” observing his wealthy clientele at the upscale restaurant he works at. There are times when he interacts with a thoroughly colorless and uninteresting staff but other than that nothing happens. Nothing.
Well, to be fair there are countless internal random dialogues that he subjects us to. I’ll give two examples because more than that….I wouldn’t subject my worst enemy to. The first, as he heads into the restaurants spacious underground cellar to fetch some tomatoes. Three pages later after a seemingly endless description about the interior of this underground warehouse we get this:
“I take out two Niepoorts, but as I try to close the drawer by giving it a hard shove with my hip, I manage to trap my left hand something awful. What do you call the edge of your hand, or the back of the hand right down by the lower side of the little finger, where the back of the hand turns into the palm? What do you call it, by the wrist joint at the bottom? What the hell’s that called, the bit between the wrist and the little finger’s joint, the karate chop part, the hand knife? Is it the hypothenar muscle? Is that the word I’ve heard? The bit which gets paralyzed if you hit your elbow, if you give your nervus ulnaris a jolt, if you bang your so-called funny bone and experience what the Norwegians call widower’s grief, because it’s over so quickly, and your little and ring fingers are often paralyzed. That’s the part I manage to trap.”
Did you make it to the end of that? I barely did. You hurt your hand. Got it. Don’t need an entire paragraph of you mentally name checking what part of your hand might be hurt. Are you a surgeon or a waiter? If that paragraph isn’t why writers employ editors, I don’t know what is.
Then there is this:
“I think Graham is three score years. How old do you think the girl could be? One? One and a half score? She can’t be any more than one and three quarters. There’s no way. And no younger than one score. Could she? Seven-eighths? No. She must be a full score, at the very least.”
I will give it credit for it’s relative brevity considering the other digressive transgressions this book inflicted on me but “scores”? Not once. Not twice. Four times, not counting the fractions. Is he Abraham Lincoln? Who talks like this? If someone started talking to you about how score old someone looked, you’d probably do what I’d do and remember what your mama told you, “Don’t make eye contact with or engage crazy people”.
I could say the book becomes slightly more interesting in the last 30 or so pages but at that point, you’re just hate reading and it’s a moot point.
If anyone tries to tell you that this book is a social commentary on the social mores, a critique of capitalism, or some other pseudo intellectual nonsense, my advice to you is simple.
Think of this book as the proverbial crazy person and just remember what your mama told you.
May 28, 2019
Matias Falkbakken has written two other novels in addition to The Waiter but is the only one translated into English. I mention this because for a moment, I thought it must be the novel that inspired Pete Buttigieg to learn Norwegian so he could read an author’s other books. Then I recalled it was published late last year, so it came too late for that story. Nonetheless, it is a book that could inspire someone to learn Norwegian.
Very little happens in The Waiter. There is a restaurant named The Hills, one of those historic grand European restaurants with a generations-old tradition of good service and haute cuisine, complete with a musician who plays piano on the mezzanine above the tables which are covered with old linens kept spotless by The Waiter using his table crumber in his uniform whose manufacture is unchanged from the past.
The constancy of The Hills is ideal for The Waiter, a sensitive soul whose job has two criteria, as he explains, “I have to show pride in my work, and I have to be self-effacing. The pride in my work makes me adhere to rigid routines which are vital for my well-being, since being highly sensitive means that I don’t like surprises or change. The self-effacing aspect means that I can interact with and serve people without having to get involved.”
This all comes crashing down when a young woman comes to The Hills and moves from one table of guests to another, so regulars become irregular by interacting and not just with each, but with The Waiter. This creates the “complex social contexts” that creates the “inner collapse” of our narrating waiter. Over the course of five days we proceed from the constancy he loves to chaos and crisis, though really, it’s just some people eating at a restaurant.
Describing the plot of The Waiter does it an injustice, it’s magic is that with almost no plot, a tense, suspenseful story of inner turmoil and collapse is woven with prose that takes my breath away.
I think The Waiter is one of those books people either love or hate. It is mostly the inner monologue of the waiter who is stuck in his routines but who is also deeply steeped in culture so he can marvel at the fractal design of romanesco and the particulars of art, music, and history. He is never boring as he natters on, but the most peril he faces is going to the storage cellar for some wine and pinching the outside of his hand in a drawer.
The Waiter is a compelling book. I was perhaps a fifth or less into the book, wondering what it was going to be about when the next thing I knew, I was done without coming up for air and I enjoyed every minute of it.
I received an e-galley of The Waiter from the publisher through NetGalley.
★★★★★
https://tonstantweaderreviews.wordpre...
Very little happens in The Waiter. There is a restaurant named The Hills, one of those historic grand European restaurants with a generations-old tradition of good service and haute cuisine, complete with a musician who plays piano on the mezzanine above the tables which are covered with old linens kept spotless by The Waiter using his table crumber in his uniform whose manufacture is unchanged from the past.
The constancy of The Hills is ideal for The Waiter, a sensitive soul whose job has two criteria, as he explains, “I have to show pride in my work, and I have to be self-effacing. The pride in my work makes me adhere to rigid routines which are vital for my well-being, since being highly sensitive means that I don’t like surprises or change. The self-effacing aspect means that I can interact with and serve people without having to get involved.”
This all comes crashing down when a young woman comes to The Hills and moves from one table of guests to another, so regulars become irregular by interacting and not just with each, but with The Waiter. This creates the “complex social contexts” that creates the “inner collapse” of our narrating waiter. Over the course of five days we proceed from the constancy he loves to chaos and crisis, though really, it’s just some people eating at a restaurant.
Describing the plot of The Waiter does it an injustice, it’s magic is that with almost no plot, a tense, suspenseful story of inner turmoil and collapse is woven with prose that takes my breath away.
I think The Waiter is one of those books people either love or hate. It is mostly the inner monologue of the waiter who is stuck in his routines but who is also deeply steeped in culture so he can marvel at the fractal design of romanesco and the particulars of art, music, and history. He is never boring as he natters on, but the most peril he faces is going to the storage cellar for some wine and pinching the outside of his hand in a drawer.
The Waiter is a compelling book. I was perhaps a fifth or less into the book, wondering what it was going to be about when the next thing I knew, I was done without coming up for air and I enjoyed every minute of it.
I received an e-galley of The Waiter from the publisher through NetGalley.
★★★★★
https://tonstantweaderreviews.wordpre...
April 11, 2019
I probably wouldn’t have picked this up if it hadn’t been a book club selection, so thanks to Rosie for suggesting this.
A light and amusing tale narrated by a fussy waiter in an Oslo restaurant, I found this unexpectedly entertaining. His quirks and tradition-loving prejudices are on full view as he describes his very narrow little world (although sometimes I thought he did have a point as he railed against some disagreeable aspects of the modern world). The Hills restaurant is the hang-out of several regulars whose antics sometimes disrupt his treasured routines. While not laugh-out-loud funny throughout, there were spots where I did giggle through entire pages. His going on and on about a Romanesco cauliflower, while much more verbose, somehow reminded me of “I carried a watermelon,” one of my favorite movie lines ever.
A light and amusing tale narrated by a fussy waiter in an Oslo restaurant, I found this unexpectedly entertaining. His quirks and tradition-loving prejudices are on full view as he describes his very narrow little world (although sometimes I thought he did have a point as he railed against some disagreeable aspects of the modern world). The Hills restaurant is the hang-out of several regulars whose antics sometimes disrupt his treasured routines. While not laugh-out-loud funny throughout, there were spots where I did giggle through entire pages. His going on and on about a Romanesco cauliflower, while much more verbose, somehow reminded me of “I carried a watermelon,” one of my favorite movie lines ever.
December 29, 2020
The Hills eller hvordan sette en stemning når en kvinne bestiller en firedobbel espresso.
Morgenen står, som man vet i kaffens tegn
Morgenen står, som man vet i kaffens tegn
August 25, 2022
Jøsses dette var en gøy bok!! Essensen har kanskje ikke kommet helt frem, siden mange ikke-norskspråklige Goodreaders har gitt få stjerner.
Den var overraskende underholdende til at settingen skjer på ett sted (The hills så klart (hvorfor i all verden har de oversatt tittelen for øvrig?)). Men det som virkelig gjør det er forfatterens språk *chefs kiss*
Den var overraskende underholdende til at settingen skjer på ett sted (The hills så klart (hvorfor i all verden har de oversatt tittelen for øvrig?)). Men det som virkelig gjør det er forfatterens språk *chefs kiss*
October 23, 2017
Den er skrevet på dansk, fordi jeg har sendt den til forlaget i DK.
Matias Faldbakken: The Hills (2017), 240 sider
”The Hills” er kunstner og forfatter Matias Faldbakkens første roman efter trilogien ”Skandinavisk misantropi.” Romanen blev skrevet under aliasset Abo Rasul for omkring ti år siden. Bøgerne blev hyldet af anmelderne, hvor beskrivelser som ”overdådig” og ”rabulistisk” blev taget i brug.
Jeg-personen i ”The Hills” er en erfaren kelner som i 13 år har arbejdet på restauranten, der har givet bogen sit navn. Det er her ikke tale om en hvilken som helst restaurant, men en hæderkronet en af slagsen, med historie tilbage helt til 1800-tallet. Her har tiden stået stille, og klientellet består mestendels af bohemer og af overklassen. Det hele er gennemtænkt, det være sig alt fra kunsten på væggene til bestik og menu. Vi taler om her om en kontinental standard, hvor ikke engang norske aviser overholder oplysningspligten. Selvom alle ved at alle læser aviserne på internet, hænger man hver dag op de udenlandske aviser i sine avisholdere. Skønhed, sjæl og visdom er det eneste duelige. Med kendskab til Norge og Oslo, henledes tankerne hurtigt til Theatercaféen.
Jeg-personen anser sig selv som højsensitiv og ”fanget i rav.” Hans ånd befinder sig slet og ret i en anden tid. Han er en slags smagsdommer, med viden om hvad der er det rigtige, hvad angår tøj, kunst og etikette. Tid til privatliv er der ikke. Hver dag møder han i sit spejlbillede, alle sine bekymringer. Bekymringerne er ”støbeformen” til hans ansigt og dagligt ser han forfaldet af det som engang var ham selv. Et forfald som også finder sted i ”hjernen, i leveren samt i penis.” Ungdommelig selvsikkerhed er blevet erstattet og knust af nervernes fysiske forfald. ”Hver dag ser jeg det gamle slitte ansiktet mitt i speilet, og sier til meg selv: Dette er det yngste du kommer til å se ut resten av livet.”
Ved observation af mennesker i sociale samspil benytter Faldbakken sig af et værktøj vi bruger hver eneste dag. Vi betragter mennesker, vi vurderer hvorfor de gør som de gør. Det er forfatterens skildringer og karakteristik af restauranten og dens klientel der giver romanen karakter. Den er præcis og klassisk, men den er også mørk og karikeret. Hovedpersonen er udstyret med hvad jeg vil beskrive som et røntgenblik. Hør bare her: ”Selvsikkerheten hennes og utstrålingen av selvfølgelighet kan lett forveksles med intelligens, kanskje det er intelligens. Hun ser ut som en utskeielse forkledd som askese. Dette høres kanskje hårreisende ut, unnskyld meg, men jeg får følelsen av at en slik en som henne er et produkt av misogyni – dette er positivt ment.”
Stamgæsterne, Grisen, Sellers og kelnerens personlige ven Edgar, udgør tilsammen et typegalleri, hvor beskrivelserne til tider er teatralske og klaustrofobiske på en og samme tid.
”The Hills” er ikke nødvendigvis en bog der bliver stående som et stort litterært værk, men …
En af litteraturens mange opgaver kan være at underholde. Det har Faldbakken formået med sin satiriske og burlæske komik.
Simen Gunerius Jørgensen, 22.10. 2017
Matias Faldbakken: The Hills (2017), 240 sider
”The Hills” er kunstner og forfatter Matias Faldbakkens første roman efter trilogien ”Skandinavisk misantropi.” Romanen blev skrevet under aliasset Abo Rasul for omkring ti år siden. Bøgerne blev hyldet af anmelderne, hvor beskrivelser som ”overdådig” og ”rabulistisk” blev taget i brug.
Jeg-personen i ”The Hills” er en erfaren kelner som i 13 år har arbejdet på restauranten, der har givet bogen sit navn. Det er her ikke tale om en hvilken som helst restaurant, men en hæderkronet en af slagsen, med historie tilbage helt til 1800-tallet. Her har tiden stået stille, og klientellet består mestendels af bohemer og af overklassen. Det hele er gennemtænkt, det være sig alt fra kunsten på væggene til bestik og menu. Vi taler om her om en kontinental standard, hvor ikke engang norske aviser overholder oplysningspligten. Selvom alle ved at alle læser aviserne på internet, hænger man hver dag op de udenlandske aviser i sine avisholdere. Skønhed, sjæl og visdom er det eneste duelige. Med kendskab til Norge og Oslo, henledes tankerne hurtigt til Theatercaféen.
Jeg-personen anser sig selv som højsensitiv og ”fanget i rav.” Hans ånd befinder sig slet og ret i en anden tid. Han er en slags smagsdommer, med viden om hvad der er det rigtige, hvad angår tøj, kunst og etikette. Tid til privatliv er der ikke. Hver dag møder han i sit spejlbillede, alle sine bekymringer. Bekymringerne er ”støbeformen” til hans ansigt og dagligt ser han forfaldet af det som engang var ham selv. Et forfald som også finder sted i ”hjernen, i leveren samt i penis.” Ungdommelig selvsikkerhed er blevet erstattet og knust af nervernes fysiske forfald. ”Hver dag ser jeg det gamle slitte ansiktet mitt i speilet, og sier til meg selv: Dette er det yngste du kommer til å se ut resten av livet.”
Ved observation af mennesker i sociale samspil benytter Faldbakken sig af et værktøj vi bruger hver eneste dag. Vi betragter mennesker, vi vurderer hvorfor de gør som de gør. Det er forfatterens skildringer og karakteristik af restauranten og dens klientel der giver romanen karakter. Den er præcis og klassisk, men den er også mørk og karikeret. Hovedpersonen er udstyret med hvad jeg vil beskrive som et røntgenblik. Hør bare her: ”Selvsikkerheten hennes og utstrålingen av selvfølgelighet kan lett forveksles med intelligens, kanskje det er intelligens. Hun ser ut som en utskeielse forkledd som askese. Dette høres kanskje hårreisende ut, unnskyld meg, men jeg får følelsen av at en slik en som henne er et produkt av misogyni – dette er positivt ment.”
Stamgæsterne, Grisen, Sellers og kelnerens personlige ven Edgar, udgør tilsammen et typegalleri, hvor beskrivelserne til tider er teatralske og klaustrofobiske på en og samme tid.
”The Hills” er ikke nødvendigvis en bog der bliver stående som et stort litterært værk, men …
En af litteraturens mange opgaver kan være at underholde. Det har Faldbakken formået med sin satiriske og burlæske komik.
Simen Gunerius Jørgensen, 22.10. 2017
September 21, 2019
Najave nisu lagale, Konobar je zaista knjiga koja ostavlja dojam kao da gledate film Wesa Andersona. Ambijent, likovi, radnja, situacije (uz jedno veliko ali do kojeg ću doći), sve zaista kao da je režirao Anderson.
Ideja romana je fantastična. Kultni restoran smjestiti u centar događanja, malkice izolirati od svijeta i slučajnih prolaznika, ali istovremeno učiniti ga poprištem promjena kojima svjedočimo iz dana u dan. Promjene kojima svakodnevno svjedočimo, promjene koje pratimo i kojima se prilagodimo ili, pak, pustimo da nas krene žvakati zub vremena.
Sviđa mi se i takav pogled iz perspektive jednog konobara koji kao da je zapeo u vremenu dok svjedoči tim promjenama koje se zbivaju oko njega.
Ipak, nisam mogao zanemariti monotonost kojom ovaj roman obiluje. Malo više dinamičnosti u situaciji i interakciji likova ne bi škodilo. Tako da... da bih gorljivo preporučio ovaj roman, ne bih. Ali da mi se u neku ruku svidio, ipak je!
Ideja romana je fantastična. Kultni restoran smjestiti u centar događanja, malkice izolirati od svijeta i slučajnih prolaznika, ali istovremeno učiniti ga poprištem promjena kojima svjedočimo iz dana u dan. Promjene kojima svakodnevno svjedočimo, promjene koje pratimo i kojima se prilagodimo ili, pak, pustimo da nas krene žvakati zub vremena.
Sviđa mi se i takav pogled iz perspektive jednog konobara koji kao da je zapeo u vremenu dok svjedoči tim promjenama koje se zbivaju oko njega.
Ipak, nisam mogao zanemariti monotonost kojom ovaj roman obiluje. Malo više dinamičnosti u situaciji i interakciji likova ne bi škodilo. Tako da... da bih gorljivo preporučio ovaj roman, ne bih. Ali da mi se u neku ruku svidio, ipak je!
August 2, 2021
Mit “The Hills” hat der norwegische Autor Matias Faldbakken einen ironischen Roman über ein traditionsreiches Osloer Restaurant geschrieben, in dem die Zeit stehengeblieben zu sein scheint. Der Protagonist des Romans ist der Kellner, der sich selbst als hochsensibel bezeichnet, seine Arbeit sehr ernst nimmt, von den festsitzenden Handgriffen und Umgangsformen nie abweicht und die Gewohnheiten seiner Stammgäste bis ins kleinste Detail kennt. Doch die so fest verankerte Ordnung des Restaurants fällt dem Chaos anheim, als eine junge Frau durch die Tür tritt.
Mit der Ankunft der jungen Frau gerät alles, wofür das Restaurant steht, plötzlich ins Wanken. Der Kellner beginnt, grobe Fehler zu machen, er vergisst sich. Hierarchien und Strukturen lösen sich auf und kehren sich ins Gegenteil um. Da wird plötzlich die Käseplatte vor dem Hauptgericht verzehrt und Handys halten Einzug in das von Zeitungen geprägte Erscheinungsbild des Restaurants.
Die Geschichte bewegt sich am Abgrund. Auf der einen Seite ist die Ordnung, das Alte, das Festhalten an einer Zeit, die schon längst vergangen scheint und nur noch innerhalb der Wände von The Hills existiert. Das Restaurant steht für ein altes Europa, an das man sich mit aller Gewalt klammern muss, um es noch aufrecht erhalten zu können, das in Form des Restaurants bereits abgenutzt wirkt, in dem sich der Ruß und der Dreck der Zeit festgesetzt haben: “Stellen Sie sich vor, wie schön es im alten Europa war, das ist gar nicht einmal so lange her. […] Jetzt gibt es überall Dönerstände und Reparaturläden für kaputte Handybildschirme. Armes Europa.”
Auf der anderen Seite steht das totale Chaos, ein unbekanntes, noch unerforschtes Neues, das nicht mit der Nostalgie, die The Hills auszeichnet, in Einklang zu bringen ist.
Es ist grandios, wie Faldbakken seine Geschichte stets am Abgrund entlanggleiten lässt. Das Geschehen wird zu einem Balanceakt, zu einem Seiltanz und als Leser rechnet man stets mit dem Schlimmsten, mit dem unsichtbaren Stoß, der die Tänzer vom Seil fallen lässt.
Doch nicht nur diese Ungewissheit und untergründige Spannung zeichnen den Roman aus. Er ist außerdem ein Kammerspiel, das sich aus sehr feinen und tiefgründigen Charakterstudien zusammensetzt. Der Kellner, die Barfrau, der Maitre D’ und die Gäste werden in ihrem Verhalten während der gesamten Erzählung unter die Lupe genommen. Nichts bleibt dabei verborgen. Gleichzeitig werden die Figuren jedoch nie ins Lächerliche gezogen und nehmen keine zu starken karikaturartigen Konturen an. Denn Faldbakken gelingt es meisterhaft, seine Figuren auf dieser Bühne, die das Restaurant darstellt, auftreten zu lassen, ihnen den Raum zu geben, sich zu entfalten und Tiefe zu entwickeln und sie dem Leser gleichzeitig durch eine scharfsinnige und ironische Linse blickend zu präsentieren.
“The Hills” ist Zeugnis des erzählerischen Talents seines Autoren und eine Freude für jeden Leser.
Mit der Ankunft der jungen Frau gerät alles, wofür das Restaurant steht, plötzlich ins Wanken. Der Kellner beginnt, grobe Fehler zu machen, er vergisst sich. Hierarchien und Strukturen lösen sich auf und kehren sich ins Gegenteil um. Da wird plötzlich die Käseplatte vor dem Hauptgericht verzehrt und Handys halten Einzug in das von Zeitungen geprägte Erscheinungsbild des Restaurants.
Die Geschichte bewegt sich am Abgrund. Auf der einen Seite ist die Ordnung, das Alte, das Festhalten an einer Zeit, die schon längst vergangen scheint und nur noch innerhalb der Wände von The Hills existiert. Das Restaurant steht für ein altes Europa, an das man sich mit aller Gewalt klammern muss, um es noch aufrecht erhalten zu können, das in Form des Restaurants bereits abgenutzt wirkt, in dem sich der Ruß und der Dreck der Zeit festgesetzt haben: “Stellen Sie sich vor, wie schön es im alten Europa war, das ist gar nicht einmal so lange her. […] Jetzt gibt es überall Dönerstände und Reparaturläden für kaputte Handybildschirme. Armes Europa.”
Auf der anderen Seite steht das totale Chaos, ein unbekanntes, noch unerforschtes Neues, das nicht mit der Nostalgie, die The Hills auszeichnet, in Einklang zu bringen ist.
Es ist grandios, wie Faldbakken seine Geschichte stets am Abgrund entlanggleiten lässt. Das Geschehen wird zu einem Balanceakt, zu einem Seiltanz und als Leser rechnet man stets mit dem Schlimmsten, mit dem unsichtbaren Stoß, der die Tänzer vom Seil fallen lässt.
Doch nicht nur diese Ungewissheit und untergründige Spannung zeichnen den Roman aus. Er ist außerdem ein Kammerspiel, das sich aus sehr feinen und tiefgründigen Charakterstudien zusammensetzt. Der Kellner, die Barfrau, der Maitre D’ und die Gäste werden in ihrem Verhalten während der gesamten Erzählung unter die Lupe genommen. Nichts bleibt dabei verborgen. Gleichzeitig werden die Figuren jedoch nie ins Lächerliche gezogen und nehmen keine zu starken karikaturartigen Konturen an. Denn Faldbakken gelingt es meisterhaft, seine Figuren auf dieser Bühne, die das Restaurant darstellt, auftreten zu lassen, ihnen den Raum zu geben, sich zu entfalten und Tiefe zu entwickeln und sie dem Leser gleichzeitig durch eine scharfsinnige und ironische Linse blickend zu präsentieren.
“The Hills” ist Zeugnis des erzählerischen Talents seines Autoren und eine Freude für jeden Leser.
January 2, 2020
The Hills mi pripomenula hotelovú reštauráciu z Džentlmena v Moskve. Atmosféra starého sveta, kde má všetko svoj poriadok. No tu sa akákoľvek podobnosť končí. Všetko sa odohráva v súčasnom Osle a nie pred 100 rokmi v Moskve, nemožno ale hovoriť o akomkoľvek príbehu: ide len o krátke, na seba nadväzujúce pozorovania z pohľadu hlavnej postavy čašníka.
Napriek chýbajúcemu deju a často absurdným dialógom sa mi to čítalo dobre, je to ale kniha skôr na lenivé nedeľné poobedia. Som rada za tento závan severu, len škoda tej nevýraznej a nič nehovoriacej obálky – české vydanie ducha knihy vystihlo oveľa lepšie.
Napriek chýbajúcemu deju a často absurdným dialógom sa mi to čítalo dobre, je to ale kniha skôr na lenivé nedeľné poobedia. Som rada za tento závan severu, len škoda tej nevýraznej a nič nehovoriacej obálky – české vydanie ducha knihy vystihlo oveľa lepšie.
June 10, 2020
To promote this book as being anything akin to a brilliant books such as “The Remains of the Day” is just wrong.
The Waiter works at a restaurant called “The Hills’ and has been there seemingly forever. The restaurant is described in boring detail after boring detail, pages and pages of it.
The regular customers with whom the Waiter interacts on a daily basis have nicknames like ‘Pig’ as do the other staff such as ‘Chef’ and ‘Bar Manager’. None of this is endearing or quirky. It’s all just silly.
This is a mishmash of long passages that go nowhere and say nothing.
The Waiter works at a restaurant called “The Hills’ and has been there seemingly forever. The restaurant is described in boring detail after boring detail, pages and pages of it.
The regular customers with whom the Waiter interacts on a daily basis have nicknames like ‘Pig’ as do the other staff such as ‘Chef’ and ‘Bar Manager’. None of this is endearing or quirky. It’s all just silly.
This is a mishmash of long passages that go nowhere and say nothing.
July 5, 2019
İskandinav edebiyatına olan sevdama dayanarak aldım ama sevmedim, ben ettim, siz etmeyin. 2 yıldız da Kuzey'e olan sevgimden :)
Read
December 26, 2020Likte den godt jeg
March 5, 2021
Uf.... recimo da je ovo oda konobarima. Čak ju ne bi preporučila ni konobarima.
I kako kaže ona stara brigo moja pređi na drugoga, ovu brigu ne želim nikome.
I kako kaže ona stara brigo moja pređi na drugoga, ovu brigu ne želim nikome.
January 9, 2023
Det er en forholdsvis interessant fortelling om en kelners observasjoner. Bokens hovedperson er oppslukt av det han kaller «det gamle Europa», noe en også kan se på skrivestilen: det er nesten som å lese en attenhundretallsroman.
January 22, 2019
An interesting book. Overall too digressive and didn’t get to the heart of the matter, so the story was unclear.
But the narrator, a highly-sensitive aesthete who seems to unravel, is well realised & some of the vignettes are truly comic - slices of restaurant life, acutely observed. The customers are pompous &/or hedonistic, but don’t change; there’s a mysterious woman who drinks a quadruple espresso (respect) & unsettles the waiter, but i wasn’t sure why.
A fun read but not wholly satisfactory.
But the narrator, a highly-sensitive aesthete who seems to unravel, is well realised & some of the vignettes are truly comic - slices of restaurant life, acutely observed. The customers are pompous &/or hedonistic, but don’t change; there’s a mysterious woman who drinks a quadruple espresso (respect) & unsettles the waiter, but i wasn’t sure why.
A fun read but not wholly satisfactory.
July 30, 2018
Well, that was odd. It's very much not going to be for everyone and I'm not 100% sure it was for me, but I think I liked it.
It's the story of a waiter's disintegration when a new element—a carefree, enigmatic young woman—is introduced into his perfectly ordered world. The Waiter works at The Hills, an old white tablecloth restaurant that has become a bit shabby and ever more eccentric over time. He has his regulars, who are as predictable in what they choose to eat as they are in where they are seated. And then the Child Lady happens and an element of chaos is introduced and the predictable becomes unpredictable and it throws The Waiter off his game. He makes mistakes. He begins to ramble in his speech. He injures himself. He is both fascinated and repulsed by the Child Lady—may, in fact, be a little in love with her in spite of himself—and he becomes increasingly erratic.
This descent into chaos and eccentricity is entertaining to watch, but also uncomfortable. There is a slightly voyeuristic feel to the whole thing and it doesn't always seem as if the author had much sympathy for his character, nor expected the reader to. In spite of the slightly uncomfortable feel with which it left me, this was also the kind of odd, quirky, eccentric book that I delight in.
It's the story of a waiter's disintegration when a new element—a carefree, enigmatic young woman—is introduced into his perfectly ordered world. The Waiter works at The Hills, an old white tablecloth restaurant that has become a bit shabby and ever more eccentric over time. He has his regulars, who are as predictable in what they choose to eat as they are in where they are seated. And then the Child Lady happens and an element of chaos is introduced and the predictable becomes unpredictable and it throws The Waiter off his game. He makes mistakes. He begins to ramble in his speech. He injures himself. He is both fascinated and repulsed by the Child Lady—may, in fact, be a little in love with her in spite of himself—and he becomes increasingly erratic.
This descent into chaos and eccentricity is entertaining to watch, but also uncomfortable. There is a slightly voyeuristic feel to the whole thing and it doesn't always seem as if the author had much sympathy for his character, nor expected the reader to. In spite of the slightly uncomfortable feel with which it left me, this was also the kind of odd, quirky, eccentric book that I delight in.
October 21, 2019
3.0 😩
I'm not sure I should have wasted time on this book! I can't say anything! The book is small, easy to read ... It's just the thoughts of a waiter at work. But, remarkably, the author doesn't reveal the name of the protagonist, the reader knows nothing about his past or about his personal life.
I'm not sure I should have wasted time on this book! I can't say anything! The book is small, easy to read ... It's just the thoughts of a waiter at work. But, remarkably, the author doesn't reveal the name of the protagonist, the reader knows nothing about his past or about his personal life.
July 7, 2019
A strange vignetted story, that left me very unsettled. The narrator is not all there and he feels like the sort of person who will become a serial killer.
April 30, 2019
Vergane glorie of de opmars van modernisering
In de sfeer van een als Weens koffiehuis ingericht etablissement, maken we kennis met de naamloze protagonist, een hoogsensitieve kelner die in zijn eentje het opnemen en het uitserveren van de bestelling voor zijn rekening neemt. Al dertien jaar is hij er werkzaam en, naar het lijkt, behoorlijk vergroeid met de geldende mores die daar immer heersen.
Al die jaren hebben zijn werkzaamheden iets voorspelbaars en de houvast die dat hem biedt, maakt dat de conservatief ingestelde kelner zich als een vis in het water voelt en zijn werk met verve en zelfverzekerdheid kan uitvoeren. Hij verstaat de kunst zich onzichtbaar te maken, werkt heel bewust en is zich tevens zeer bewust van zijn handelen. Zijn observatievermogen is groot en gedetailleerd zijn beschrijvingen - hoewel dit natuurlijk de credits voor de auteur zijn die de kelner deze eigenschap heeft aangemeten -. Een behoorlijk gestructureerd heerschap dus, deze ik-verteller.
'Het beroep dat ik uitoefen, stelt twee eisen aan me: ik moet beroepstrots hebben en ik moet mezelf kunnen wegcijferen. De beroepstrots leidt ertoe dat ik me voor mijn welbevinden aan rigide routines moet houden, aangezien ik als hoogsensitief mens geen prijs stel op verrassingen of veranderingen. Door mezelf weg te cijferen kan ik met mensen omgaan en hen bedienen zonder er zelf bij betrokken te raken.'
De naam van het Noorse restaurant is 150 jaar geleden ontstaan, doordat de familie Hill er vanaf 1846 een confectiecentrum bestierde en het is, onafhankelijk van de gewijzigde bedrijfstak in latere jaren, altijd de naam 'De Hills' blijven voeren.
De uitgebreide en gedetailleerde omschrijving van het restaurant branden het gehele interieur in je netvlies, daar is gewoonweg niet aan te ontkomen.
Ondanks de kenmerken van Jugendstil - de stroming die van eind 19e tot begin 20e eeuw terrein veroverde in Europa -, wordt de ruimte beschreven als behoorlijk schmutzig, met het zwartgeblakerde plafond van het flamberen in de keuken, vettige wanden, verrookte plafonds en schilderijen - uit de tijd dat er binnen nog gerookt mocht worden - versleten mozaïek op de vloer, de klassieke marmeren tafelbladen, de stickers op de wanden en de kroonluchter die er hangt als baken van de vergane glorie.
Zijn ritueel om zich dagelijks in zijn outfit te hijsen, geeft hem zijn broodnodige houvast. Het ziet er keurig uit, maar het vele dragen en wassen geeft het een sleets uiterlijk. Vergane glorie misschien, maar voor de kelner zijn houvast aan het oude.
Onze hoofdpersoon heeft zo zijn eigen ritme, gewoontes en principes, werkt precies en met een nogal stoïcijnse houding. (Tijdens het lezen heb ik steeds het beeld van Anthony Hopkins voor me gezien. Het zou de perfecte hoofdrol voor hem zijn bij een eventuele verfilming.) Gemakkelijk laat hij zich niet verleiden om uit zijn rol te vallen en hij geeft blijk van het kennen van zijn pappenheimers, wat ze graag eten en drinken en hun gewoontes. Hij is ogen en oren, maar houdt zich verre van het geven van zijn mening en stelt zich conflictvermijdend op.
Het boek heeft, ondanks dat er meerdere dagen verstrijken, iets weg van een éénakter. Het toneel is en blijft het restaurant en het vilten gordijn aan de kromme messing buis, dat voor de ingang hangt, is het doek waardoor de personages hun acte de présence maken.
Wanneer een vrouw - is ze nog een meisje, is ze een vrouw? Een vrouwmeisje. - haar opwachting maakt, veroorzaakt dat de nodige opschudding. Ze heeft lak aan conventies, neemt het niet zo nauw met de tijd, bestelt vierdubbele! espresso's, is constant met haar mobiele telefoon bezig en lijkt zich nodeloos op te dringen aan de andere gasten. Al dat grenzeloze en moderne gedoe zorgen ervoor de onze kelner last krijgt van een sluimerend onbehagen en een moreel dilemma. Hierdoor dreigt hij met zichzelf in conflict te komen. De sfeer, maar ook de kelner, worden grimmiger. De dame houdt de gemoederen danig bezig.
'Van een afstandje lijkt ze op een engel, van dichtbij op een duivel.'
De oude Johansen is de huispianist - hij blijkt behept te zijn met een grote verzamelwoede - die op een verdekt opgestelde plek op de entresol zijn repertoire ten gehore brengt. Hij heeft in de gaten dat de kelner zichzelf wat aan het verliezen is en waarschuwt hem.
''Wanneer de organisatie van het ego spaak loopt, is de ineenstorting nabij.'
De oude Johansen hoeft zich niet eens om te draaien om mijn ontwrichte stumperigheid te kunnen vaststellen. Blijkbaar heb ik de uitstraling van een stakker, dwars door mijn ingebeelde maliënkolder en schild van service, routine en voorspelbaarheid heen.'
Voor de negenjarige Anne heeft hij uiteindelijk nog ontzag en eigenlijk is zíj de enige die hij nog serieus kan nemen.
Neem ook eens de tijd om de prachtige stofomslag goed te bekijken. Het staat mijns inziens symbool voor allerlei individuen van diverse pluimage en de kat is de kelner die het geheel feilloos en sluw in de gaten houdt.
Faldbakken schrijft op een luchtige manier. De verfijnde humor doet regelmatig glimlachen, maar voelt ook net zo vaak aan als satirisch. Wie het verhaal laat bezinken, zal ook de verontrustende, onderliggende boodschap voelen van de dreiging van vergane glorie en het moeten wennen om mee te gaan met de modernisering.
Zijn uitgebreide uitweidingen over de kleinste details maken het verhaal misschien soms wat traag, maar mij stoorde dit allerminst. Het maakte me juist zo duidelijk hoe de kelner in zijn vel steekt en hoe hij zich als een vis in zijn 'eigen' domein voelt rondzwemmen.
Een magnifieke roman die me meteen inpakte en me het gevoel gaf om het niet te snel op te souperen.
Auteur
Matias Faldbakken (1973 Hobro, Denemarken) is kunstenaar en schrijver. Hij schreef eerder een trilogie onder het pseudoniem Abo Rasul. 'De Hills' is de eerste roman die in het Nederlands is vertaald.
Titel: De Hills
Auteur: Matias Faldbakken
Vertaling: Lucy Pijttersen
Pagina's: 240
ISBN: 9789029092517
Uitgeverij J.M. Meulenhoff
Verschenen: oktober 2018
In de sfeer van een als Weens koffiehuis ingericht etablissement, maken we kennis met de naamloze protagonist, een hoogsensitieve kelner die in zijn eentje het opnemen en het uitserveren van de bestelling voor zijn rekening neemt. Al dertien jaar is hij er werkzaam en, naar het lijkt, behoorlijk vergroeid met de geldende mores die daar immer heersen.
Al die jaren hebben zijn werkzaamheden iets voorspelbaars en de houvast die dat hem biedt, maakt dat de conservatief ingestelde kelner zich als een vis in het water voelt en zijn werk met verve en zelfverzekerdheid kan uitvoeren. Hij verstaat de kunst zich onzichtbaar te maken, werkt heel bewust en is zich tevens zeer bewust van zijn handelen. Zijn observatievermogen is groot en gedetailleerd zijn beschrijvingen - hoewel dit natuurlijk de credits voor de auteur zijn die de kelner deze eigenschap heeft aangemeten -. Een behoorlijk gestructureerd heerschap dus, deze ik-verteller.
'Het beroep dat ik uitoefen, stelt twee eisen aan me: ik moet beroepstrots hebben en ik moet mezelf kunnen wegcijferen. De beroepstrots leidt ertoe dat ik me voor mijn welbevinden aan rigide routines moet houden, aangezien ik als hoogsensitief mens geen prijs stel op verrassingen of veranderingen. Door mezelf weg te cijferen kan ik met mensen omgaan en hen bedienen zonder er zelf bij betrokken te raken.'
De naam van het Noorse restaurant is 150 jaar geleden ontstaan, doordat de familie Hill er vanaf 1846 een confectiecentrum bestierde en het is, onafhankelijk van de gewijzigde bedrijfstak in latere jaren, altijd de naam 'De Hills' blijven voeren.
De uitgebreide en gedetailleerde omschrijving van het restaurant branden het gehele interieur in je netvlies, daar is gewoonweg niet aan te ontkomen.
Ondanks de kenmerken van Jugendstil - de stroming die van eind 19e tot begin 20e eeuw terrein veroverde in Europa -, wordt de ruimte beschreven als behoorlijk schmutzig, met het zwartgeblakerde plafond van het flamberen in de keuken, vettige wanden, verrookte plafonds en schilderijen - uit de tijd dat er binnen nog gerookt mocht worden - versleten mozaïek op de vloer, de klassieke marmeren tafelbladen, de stickers op de wanden en de kroonluchter die er hangt als baken van de vergane glorie.
Zijn ritueel om zich dagelijks in zijn outfit te hijsen, geeft hem zijn broodnodige houvast. Het ziet er keurig uit, maar het vele dragen en wassen geeft het een sleets uiterlijk. Vergane glorie misschien, maar voor de kelner zijn houvast aan het oude.
Onze hoofdpersoon heeft zo zijn eigen ritme, gewoontes en principes, werkt precies en met een nogal stoïcijnse houding. (Tijdens het lezen heb ik steeds het beeld van Anthony Hopkins voor me gezien. Het zou de perfecte hoofdrol voor hem zijn bij een eventuele verfilming.) Gemakkelijk laat hij zich niet verleiden om uit zijn rol te vallen en hij geeft blijk van het kennen van zijn pappenheimers, wat ze graag eten en drinken en hun gewoontes. Hij is ogen en oren, maar houdt zich verre van het geven van zijn mening en stelt zich conflictvermijdend op.
Het boek heeft, ondanks dat er meerdere dagen verstrijken, iets weg van een éénakter. Het toneel is en blijft het restaurant en het vilten gordijn aan de kromme messing buis, dat voor de ingang hangt, is het doek waardoor de personages hun acte de présence maken.
Wanneer een vrouw - is ze nog een meisje, is ze een vrouw? Een vrouwmeisje. - haar opwachting maakt, veroorzaakt dat de nodige opschudding. Ze heeft lak aan conventies, neemt het niet zo nauw met de tijd, bestelt vierdubbele! espresso's, is constant met haar mobiele telefoon bezig en lijkt zich nodeloos op te dringen aan de andere gasten. Al dat grenzeloze en moderne gedoe zorgen ervoor de onze kelner last krijgt van een sluimerend onbehagen en een moreel dilemma. Hierdoor dreigt hij met zichzelf in conflict te komen. De sfeer, maar ook de kelner, worden grimmiger. De dame houdt de gemoederen danig bezig.
'Van een afstandje lijkt ze op een engel, van dichtbij op een duivel.'
De oude Johansen is de huispianist - hij blijkt behept te zijn met een grote verzamelwoede - die op een verdekt opgestelde plek op de entresol zijn repertoire ten gehore brengt. Hij heeft in de gaten dat de kelner zichzelf wat aan het verliezen is en waarschuwt hem.
''Wanneer de organisatie van het ego spaak loopt, is de ineenstorting nabij.'
De oude Johansen hoeft zich niet eens om te draaien om mijn ontwrichte stumperigheid te kunnen vaststellen. Blijkbaar heb ik de uitstraling van een stakker, dwars door mijn ingebeelde maliënkolder en schild van service, routine en voorspelbaarheid heen.'
Voor de negenjarige Anne heeft hij uiteindelijk nog ontzag en eigenlijk is zíj de enige die hij nog serieus kan nemen.
Neem ook eens de tijd om de prachtige stofomslag goed te bekijken. Het staat mijns inziens symbool voor allerlei individuen van diverse pluimage en de kat is de kelner die het geheel feilloos en sluw in de gaten houdt.
Faldbakken schrijft op een luchtige manier. De verfijnde humor doet regelmatig glimlachen, maar voelt ook net zo vaak aan als satirisch. Wie het verhaal laat bezinken, zal ook de verontrustende, onderliggende boodschap voelen van de dreiging van vergane glorie en het moeten wennen om mee te gaan met de modernisering.
Zijn uitgebreide uitweidingen over de kleinste details maken het verhaal misschien soms wat traag, maar mij stoorde dit allerminst. Het maakte me juist zo duidelijk hoe de kelner in zijn vel steekt en hoe hij zich als een vis in zijn 'eigen' domein voelt rondzwemmen.
Een magnifieke roman die me meteen inpakte en me het gevoel gaf om het niet te snel op te souperen.
Auteur
Matias Faldbakken (1973 Hobro, Denemarken) is kunstenaar en schrijver. Hij schreef eerder een trilogie onder het pseudoniem Abo Rasul. 'De Hills' is de eerste roman die in het Nederlands is vertaald.
Titel: De Hills
Auteur: Matias Faldbakken
Vertaling: Lucy Pijttersen
Pagina's: 240
ISBN: 9789029092517
Uitgeverij J.M. Meulenhoff
Verschenen: oktober 2018
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