Such a beautiful novel. How unbearable that it's over.

I had imagined that Per is a self-destructive character with a specific goal in life: to attain happiness that eludes most. But I don't really think happiness is that elusive—it just doesn't stay, because humans can get used to most anything that happiness ends up becoming just another day, and so loses its sheen.

This novel made me realize that I love modernist novels, especially ones that are as lush and in love with landscapes of the Jutland as Lucky Per is. And it has such banger lines, declarative and imperative turns of phrases that send chills down my spine, fuelling me with the fervour to return to this novel again and again.

Which means I have to own it now.