It being summer, I began my annual tradition of entering my library
open-minded.
I go into a random section of the shelves;
Promise I'll read whatever I touch;
Close my eyes;
And select a book off the shelf.
I usually read the back covers (who doesn't), and, although many times they
have as little as possible about the book, I 'judge a book by it's cover'.
So when I picked out The Invisible,
I was actually interested,
and a little confused.
The back cover reads:
Stay with Fors...Stay with Fors and
maybe you'll find out why you've
become invisible.
Naturally, I judge.
Great. Sounds like an episode of Supernatural.
I open the front cover and see the author, Mats Wahl,
originally wrote the novel in what I want to say is Sweedish?
Der Unsichtbare=The Invisible
Oh joy...Sweedish...
I actually read the book and, although it was a little creepy and I, to be completely honest,
couldn't read it at night, I really liked it. Definitely recommend it
for an quick, different read. (It's only 186 pages.)
Several of the passages really caught me:
[Pg. 28-29]
Hilmer Eriksson [the victim] sat next to him [Fors, the detective]...He hadn't slipped
in through any of the car doors but had simply entered with Fors, whose thoughts were on him.
Hilmer didn't understand it. It was inconceivable.
But now he was so much in For's thoughts that he was next to Fors, was with Fors, following him and walking along besides him.
Yet he was invisible.
Except to you.
You can see him.
His ruined face.
What have they done to his face?
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[Pg. 32-33]
And along with them, without their noticing, he was there, the invisible one, whose name was Hilmer Eriksson. He was in the car as Nilsson pulled onto the street; he was with them as they drove in silence along the main street toward the river and the trail.
The boy who is gone is still present.
No one is closer to us than the one who has disappeared.
We can hide things away.
But we can't forget.
----------------------------------------------------
[Pg. 65]
The nhe got up and put on his suit jacket. He apparently felt he needed to explain why. "I think I'm coming down with something. A cold, I feel a bit chilled. "He watched Fors, still leaning over his notes. "Tell me, what does all this have to do with the disappearance of Hilmer Eriksson?"
And neither of them saw Hilmer.
Bleeding on the floor.
Mouth stuffed full.
Rotting wet leaves.
On the floor, right in front of them.
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[Pg. 89]
"But there are lots of boys who grow up without a father. Only a few go bad. It can't be just because they don't have a father. What do you think?" She looked expectantly at Fors.
"I don't know," he answered.
"But what do you think?"
She was desperate to be freed from her guilt.
"I really don't know," said Fors. He could only investigate, not liberate.
The liberator was someone else.
And the whole time they were speaking, Hilmer glided around the room. He moved silently along the walls; he was right there with them like odorless smoke.
He was the one who was missing.
He searched.
He whispered her name.
He cried her name.
Ellen.
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