As the narrator is a translator, one of the major themes in the book is specificity of language, a theme which, with a little more levity of touch could have become luminous, but instead remains slightly heavy-handed. This is a novel invested in the interplay between reading, living, and the accretion of experience. In it, the unnamed narrator, who can translate between Icelandic and “11 other languages” is rejected by her lover, divorced by her husband she also wins two lotteries, and drives around Iceland’s ring road in November.
Butterflies in November is a sweet, kooky novel.
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