MY MEN

Based on the true story of one of America’s first female serial killers, Kielland’s dense, lyrical novel offers both insight and opacity.

In 1876, 17-year-old Brynhild Størset is overwhelmed by her own longings and her religious-induced shame. When she becomes pregnant, an act of violence leads to a miscarriage and, from there, a miserable boat trip from Norway to the United States. She makes her way to the Midwest and moves in with her disapproving sister, Nellie, and her family, even taking a new name: Bella. (Later, she becomes Belle.) Despite the vast landscape, she tries to keep herself small and contained, focusing on her work as a seamstress and faithfully attending church. She longs to be touched, longs for a child of her own, but “it was the same in America as in Norway—it didn’t matter, the world didn’t care about her.” Then she meets Mads Sørensen, and despite his love for her, she finds herself “just waiting for everything else to be taken away, for the invisible betrayal.” Nevertheless, they get married and begin to take in a series of children, many of whom seem to die through some vague failing of Belle’s, who isn’t "a real mother.” When Mads dies suddenly, and suspiciously, Belle and her remaining three children trade their house for a pig farm, which begets a series of men and tragedies. Despite the subject matter, this novel is not your typical thriller. The language, in Searls’ translation, is dense, poetic, and deeply figurative, as demonstrated by the first page: “The words grabbed her by the throat, Belle didn’t know when it was all going to snap, but she knew it would. A bullet, an inverted lung, a postscript to a thousand wars, tears ran down her face.” Belle is unknowable, even by the novel itself, for in the end, this isn’t really a story about a serial killer.

A meditation on female desire, on loneliness, on mental illness.