QUAKE

The amnesia that descends on a young woman following two epileptic seizures forces her to reassess her role as daughter, sister, partner, and mother.

Terror and desperation are the starting points for award-winning Icelandic author Jónsdóttir’s novel, which delivers Saga Bjarnadóttir’s first-person account of her struggle to resume control of a life she can’t remember. An epileptic from childhood, she’s been seizure-free for 10 years when she suddenly suffers two in quick succession, leaving her on the pavement of a busy street, in a fog but desperate to know the whereabouts of her 3-year-old son, Ivar. Hospitalized and suffering a third seizure, then restored to her apartment with Ivar found, Saga is nevertheless still in limbo, unable to recall what work she does or why she’s divorced from her partner and questioning how she can ever cope alone again, given the risks of another seizure. Slowly, she—and the reader—pieces together some of her circumstances, including the flaws in her relationship with Bergur, Ivar’s father, and the emotional tangle of her own family. Her mother has a tendency to disappear, her father has a history of violence, and there was a crisis about which Saga still experiences guilt. Part mystery, part family drama, part children-in-peril narrative, the novel offers a hectic, heart-thudding, sometimes claustrophobic portrait of panicked inner turmoil. Saga even refers to her epilepsy as a “him” who rules and invades her body. Jónsdóttir has constructed a tight scenario and a small world populated by a narrow cast of characters with whom Saga hashes and rehashes past events and connections. A measure of peace comes not with a happy ending but some acceptance.

An engrossing if stifling plunge into the consciousness of a woman on the edge.