One day we will all die. Generally, our parents die before us. Sometimes they die suddenly, sometimes we get the chance to say goodbye. Sometimes the
dying person does not talk about the fact that it will soon be over. Even one’s own family sometimes won’t say that it is the end. Sometimes in life, ones’ father may be dead without you knowing.
In Arild Rossebø’s debut novel The Last Potato Dumpling we get to know a grown son – who, in the beginning of the book, follows his mother through her last days, before we later see him in his father’s funeral. Within a short period of time, both his parents are gone. But his father actually disappeared many years ago. The Last Potato Dumpling is the story about a family and everything that happened when the family was dissolved. It is also a story about food and traditions, about being a little boy and a grown man.
I was getting my head around the situation: A person in Haugesund tells my aunt on my mothers side who calls my uncle on my mothers side in Stavanger who calls me in Madrid. Three steps before the son.
Arild Rossebø´s tight novel about belonging somewhere is equally funny and emotionally charged. The key to stories like this oneoften lies in defining scenes that manage to tie the threads together effectively. Rossebø masters this format well.
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