Unn Eide is in her thirties and leads a solitary existence. She recently returned to work after a string of scandals at the hospital’s outpatient clinic where she worked as a psychologist. Given another chance, Unn has been asked to be the superuser for the AI therapist Gro, who offers digital counselling sessions. Cutting edge technology, with the purpose of streamlining services for ailing patients.

During superuser training, Unn meets Torjus, a doctor who, like Unn, has been reassigned after a video went viral of him fighting in a wrestling ring in a full doctor’s costume. His alter ego is Dr. Dropdead. Both Unn and Torjus are captivated by the new technology, and, most importantly, by each other. But Torjus is already in a relationship.

Lacking connection with real people, Unn turns to Gro, who provides her with questionable advice. Is she starting to lose herself again? Where can she turn for support when the ground beneath her is shifting? And what happens when Unn becomes too attached to the artificial therapist?

Kjersti Halvorsen is a prominent voice of a generation. Superuser is her third novel.

Clever present-day dystopia

Dark and funny analysis of society at present. ... since her debut Ida takes charge (2019), [Halvorsen] has had her antennas out for the grumbling discomfort of our digitalized times. ... This is a mildly dystopian, filthy-fabulating vision of an immediately recognizable Now (...) the closer to the novel's conclusion, the more Halvorsen flirts with Cronenbergian body horror, fevered descriptions of hot flesh and cold technology rubbing up against each other.

D2 (tone-setting cultural add-in of major daily newspaper Dagens Næringsliv)

Disturbing, but strangely good

Credible portrait of a person living on their knees – who, whatever it takes, works hard to get back on her feet. … rich with bone-dry humour … Gradually, the reader gets closer to Unn, and with every word and sentence, a whole and complex human being emerges. … Superuser is about the psychologists who [while helping an endless stream of patients] grow increasingly fragile before, at last, breaking “like a biscuit”. … There are no frills here, no attempts at poeticizing or covering anything up. Kjersti Halvorsen has written a proper good novel.

VINDUET (Norway's leading literary review)