I think it’s fair for you to assume that you’re going to read a lot here about the Atlantic Crossing miniseries (coming to PBS Masterpiece beginning April 4), one of my proudest projects as a translator.
“I don’t think anybody knew how long lockdowns were going to happen,” [Executive Producer Susanne] Simpson said. “Atlantic Crossing” was something she’d known about for six months prior to the outbreak, but she’d never pursued it because it was a Norwegian production. “Once I was able to see the show it wasn’t a very hard decision,” she said. “Atlantic Crossing” tells the story of the relationship between Crown Princess Marta (Sofia Helin) of Sweden and Norway and President Franklin Delano Roosevelt (Kyle MacLachlan).
For some reason, my indespensible contibutions as a translator are not mentioned in the article, but it does talk about the writers, Alexander Eik and Linda May Kallestein. Linda May, I think it’s OK to tell you, is my boss. Aside from her fine screen writing, she is a top Norwegian-to-English script translator, and the person who got me into the business.
You probably don’t know about this because I’ve been so discreet on the subject, but I did a whole lot of translation on the Norwegian miniseries, Atlantic Crossing (teaser above). It’s also possible I may have mentioned that it will be broadcast for the US on PBS Masterpiece this spring.
I promised to let you know when we learned the actual broadcast date. The premiere date has been revealed at last — Sunday, April 4, 9:00 p.m. Eastern, 8:00 Central (all the rest of you are expected to do math). The official announcement is here.
Today was an eventful one by the standards of my life. I had my annual appointment with the tax preparer. It’s a new preparer this year. My old preparer died. A couple days ago. She wasn’t a robust person, but still, a shocker. (Not Covid)
I also had to do some actual physical work. It snowed overnight, and my neighbor who usually takes care of snowblowing, couldn’t, because the his snowblower broke down. And, oh yes, he has a concussion.
I am surrounded by devastation.
I was able to tell the ladies at the tax place about Atlantic Crossing, though. I doubt it makes up for a death on staff, but it was the best I could do. Aside from paying their exorbitant fee.
I don’t like February much. Maybe April will be better.
As I never tire of telling you, I’m not a huge fan of Scandinavian Noir as a literary genre. My samplings indicate that most such books ought to be classed as depressants and dispensed only with a doctor’s prescription. However, I make an exception for Jørn Lier Horst’s William Wisting novels. (I first discovered Wisting, as I also never tire of telling you, while helping to translate the Wisting TV series, now available on the Sundance Channel).
It’s been a while since a new Wisting book has been released in English, though. But I was happy to discover that author Horst has teamed up with another Norwegian mystery author, Thomas Enger, to produce a new police series, about an Oslo detective named Alexander Blix. The first book in the series is Death Deserved.
Alexander Blix is a top-notch detective, but somewhat the worse for wear. Years ago he was involved in a shooting that’s still studied at the police academy. He was exonerated, but his career has always been under a shadow. His former partner (and former friend) is now his boss.
When a legendary female long-distance runner disappears from her home, almost the only clue left behind is a race number (1) taped to the TV. Since the woman had recently published a memoir entitled, Always Number One, that number seems to have something to do with the criminal’s motives.
Over the next few days famous people start disappearing or being murdered all around the city, each of them associated with a particular number. It looks like somebody is doing a macabre countdown.
The first person on the original crime scene was a young celebrity reporter, Emma Ramm. Suddenly she’s covering her very first hard news story – and Blix can’t resist helping her out a little. He has a secret reason for this, which the reader will learn in time.
Meanwhile, Blix is dealing with having a celebrity in his own family. His daughter, of whom he has seen little since her mother left him, is currently a contestant on a big Norwegian reality show along the lines of Big Brother. And gradually he begins to suspect that the celebrity-hunting murderer may have his eye on whoever wins that show.
I liked Death Deserved, though not as much as the Wisting books. It suffered (in my opinion) from the natural defects of the criminal mastermind story – this sort of thing never happens in the real world, and gets pretty implausible as the plot works itself out.
But the final showdown was exciting and well crafted, with a certain emotional resonance that pleased me.
There’s one excursion into the world of big evangelicalism – a sequence involving a venal celebrity pastor. Not surprisingly, they don’t get the jargon right – but the man’s a plain grifter, so I suppose it doesn’t matter much. I was pleased that the translator, Anne Bruce, translated “prest” as “pastor” rather than “priest,” which is my preferred interpretation. In fact, the translation as a whole earned my coveted admiration.
I also note, with appreciation, that the translator got a thank you in the Acknowledgements (which are otherwise too long and too cute).
A very recent addition to the Netflix film lineup is the fact-based film, The Dig, about the excavation of the Sutton Hoo Anglo-Saxon ship burial beginning in 1939. This was, needless to say, of considerable interest to me. And it’s a pretty fair movie.
Ralph Fiennes plays Basil Brown, a self-taught archaeological excavator who is hired by the widowed Mrs. Edith Pretty (Carey Mulligan) to do a dig of a grave mound on her property. The nearby Ipswich Museum tries to lure Brown away to excavate some Roman ruins, but he stays on the Sutton Hoo dig, convinced that it might be Anglo-Saxon rather than Viking, a significant rarity. When Brown uncovers the distinct traces of a ship burial, the site suddenly becomes an archaeological sensation. Noted British Museum archaeologist Charles Phillips (Ken Stott) stomps in to take control, causing Brown to withdraw in offense for a time. He is drawn back, however, by Edith’s young son Robert (Archie Barnes), who sees him as a father figure. Soon progress on the dig turns into a race against time, as war approaches and all non-essential public works will have to be shut down.
The film is beautifully filmed and emotionally touching. The sense of impending death hangs over all, the idea of robbing a grave offering counterpoint to portents of the bloodbath that’s approaching for the whole country. Edith herself suffers from heart disease, and knows she hasn’t long to live (she’s portrayed as a woman in her 30s in the film, though the real Edith Pretty was in her 50s. Nicole Kidman was originally slated for the role).
Contemporary glosses are obligatory of course, especially in the case of female archaeologist Peggy Piggott (Lily James), who is portrayed, with an eye to the feminists, as a sort of insecure nerd-babe in a loveless marriage, hired solely because she’s light in weight and less likely to crush artifacts. In fact (according to Wikipedia), she was an experienced and accomplished team member. A fictional adulterous romance is invented for her (with Edith’s fictional brother Rory, played by Johnny Flynn).
The ending is slightly anticlimactic, and melancholy. It saddened me that, even in a portrayal of a more Christian England, no reference is made to Christian hope in the many conversations about death and the afterlife. The lesson of the film seems to be that we’re all part of a great chain of lives stretching back into infinity, and forward, who knows how far? No doubt that’s comforting to some people.
Good movie, and sometimes educational, though I wish they’d told us more about the Anglo-Saxons, their culture, and the artifacts. Still, recommended.
“That’s the point of dating,” she said. “To, like, get to know someone.”
“The guy’s a communications major—ironic given his lack of verbal acuity—and he barely maintains a two-point oh. Been on academic probation twice. And he had a jaywalking ticket—”
“Uh, you just butchered six dudes in an impound lot.”
“Context is everything.”
Imagine you finished reading a James Bond novel, and felt you’d been made a wiser and better person.
That’s the effect (at least for this reader) of reading Gregg Hurwitz’s Orphan X series of thrillers. It’s a pretty neat trick, one any author ought to admire.
As you may recall, our hero, Evan Smoak, has lived three lives so far. First he was an orphan in a group home, abandoned and hopeless. Then he was recruited into the government’s super-top-secret Orphan program, becoming a deadly covert assassin. Then, after extricating himself from that life, he became The Nowhere Man, living in a luxury condo in LA, answering calls for help from the desperate, saving them if he can. But as Prodigal Son begins, he’s transitioned to yet another new life. Pardoned through a special deal with no less a personage than the president of the United States, he has given up his vigilante career, and he finds himself untethered in the cosmos. He is a physically fit minimalist with OCD. His human contacts are few. There’s Joey, a 16-year-old girl he rescued from the Orphan project, who does computer hacking for him and has become a sort of surrogate daughter. There’s his neighbor Mia, the single mother of a boy who desperately wants a father figure. There’s real chemistry with Mia, but she works for the DA’s office, and has figured out she doesn’t want to know too much about his life.
Then Evan gets a call over his secure phone, from a woman who claims to be his mother. He refuses to believe it at first, but finally he goes to meet her in Buenos Aires. She wants him to save the life of a man named Andrew Duran, a man who owes money to loan sharks and is working at a city impound lot, trying to make his child support payments. Evan can’t figure out why she cares about this guy, but it’s something he can do for his mother. Of course, that means breaking his deal with the president. And it will put him in the sights of a lethal brother-sister assassin team and the richest man in the world, who has lots of high-tech military-industrial-complex toys.
The stakes keep rising, the twists and turns and setbacks escalate to impossible levels. And yet, the really compelling thing about Prodigal Son is Evan’s personal journey. Meeting his mother after all these years sets him to contemplating what it means to be human, realizing that he has to find some way to connect with humanity. And step by step, he starts doing just that. It’s touching and inspiring – and sometimes funny.
Loved this book, in spite of the slightly preposterous plot (standard in the series) and the cliff-hanger ending (to be fair, all the plot threads had been tied up, so this was more of a cliff appendix). Highly recommended. Cautions for language and violence.
