Antiquity
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- 11,99 €
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- 11,99 €
Descripción editorial
Elegant, slippery, and provocative, Antiquity is a queer Lolita story by prize-winning Swedish author Hanna Johansson — a story of desire, power, obsession, observation, and taboo.
Antiquity follows its unnamed narrator, a lonely woman in her thirties who becomes enamoured of a chic older artist, Helena, after interviewing her for a magazine. Helena invites the narrator to join her in the Greek city of Ermoupoli where she summers with her teenage daughter Olga. At first an object of jealousy, Olga morphs into an object of desire as the pull of Helena is transposed onto her daughter and the prospect of becoming someone’s first, if perverse, lover.
With echoes of Death in Venice, Call Me by Your Name, The Lover, and Lolita, but wholly original and contemporary, Antiquity probes the depths of memory, power, and the narratives that arrange our experience of the world.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Johansson debuts with a moody exploration of loneliness and obsession against the backdrop of an arrestingly beautiful Greek island. The unnamed 30-something narrator accepts an invitation from Helena, an artist whom she recently interviewed and has become fixated upon, to visit Helena's house on Syros. There, the narrator is distraught to learn that Helena's teenage daughter, Olga, will be joining them, interrupting what she had hoped would be an opportunity to get closer to Helen. Of Olga, the narrator thinks, "I hated the name before I met her; I hated it only when I knew her by name, when all I knew was what Helena had told me about her." The name itself gives the narrator a "strange and inexplicable sense of being left out." After Olga arrives on the island and Helena's interest in the narrator begins to wane, she turns her eye instead to Olga, inserting herself between the mother and daughter and shifting her allegiances as she develops a Lolita-like erotic interest in the girl. While Johansson's sentences are lovely and her observations are sharp and clear-eyed, the novel's stakes never rise high enough to capture the reader's attention. What might have been a visceral narrative of desire and harm remains a quiet meditation.
