When Merlijn gets a call saying strange payments are being made with his credit card in a Swedish amusement park, he decides to investigate the case himself. After all: his life in Amsterdam hasn’t been the same since his heart got broken when the love of his life left him. During his Swedish road trip, he makes a bizarre discovery.
I was going to tell that I don’t read much contemporary Dutch fiction for grown-ups, and that the last time I did such a thing was March 2007, when I read Jan Siebelink’s Knielen op een bed violen. But if I’d did that, I would feel obliged to explain my decision to pick up Arjen Lubach‘s Magnus. And then, I’d have to get into whether or not his book has brought me a new profound appreciation of Dutch literature.
For three days, I tried that. But I just couldn’t get past the first few words of the next paragraph. I felt that I would have to come up with something meaningful, and nothing came up. The thing is, I read Magnus because I like Lubach’s work for Recensiekoning and as a musician (Het Monica da Silva Trio, Koefnoen Rapservice, etc.), and I liked it. Nothing more, nothing less.
I read to be entertained. Perhaps to escape reality for a while, or to learn something. Don’t come to me for deep insights about a book. Magnus is a book that entertained me tremendously.
Or maybe it confuses me. I don’t know.
- Arjen Lubach — Magnus
- First Line
- Er was eigenlijk maar één ding veranderd.