A young woman goes to work as a housekeeper at a hotel that remains curiously without guests in this disquieting and elegiac novel from a Swedish writer.
Rafaela, the first-person narrator, grew up near the sea, and she never dreamed of taking a job in the mountain town of Strega, but after her mother comes across the Olympic Hotel's want ad for "nine maids for the winter season," she applies for a position out of a sense of duty. She soon finds herself in the beautiful and desolate hotel—alone except for her fellow seasonal hires and three members of the permanent staff. The new girls are rigorously trained in hospitality and hotel upkeep and given strange lectures on servile womanhood, electricity, and the nuns living at a nearby convent, but days and then weeks go by without anyone ever renting a room. Lykke Holm builds a sense of aimless unease as the housekeepers inure themselves to days of seemingly senseless work and harsh punishment from their managers, and Rafaela falls into a homoerotic friendship with a fellow maid. Right as the tension begins to tilt toward tediousness, a local holiday brings strangers to the Olympic for a party, and one of the maids disappears. The search for Cassie and grief over her disappearance form an interesting engine for the latter half of the book—as do Rafaela’s musings on women’s bodies as inevitable crime scenes—but the persistent ambiguity about what is and isn’t real occasionally feels like indecisiveness on the part of the author and prevents it from satisfying as a mystery. Lykke Holm’s prose—full of litanies of strange and striking imagery—is, without a doubt, the book's greatest strength.
An unsettling and melancholy dreamscape that leans more on aesthetics than on plot.