AN ALTERED LIGHT

Irene Beckman, a 56-year-old Copenhagen lawyer, embarks on a journey of self-discovery after her husband, Martin, takes up with a younger woman in Grøndahl's latest novel, a thoughtful, probing and fiercely introspective character study. The premise may be rather stale, but Beckman's intense, ironic response to her impending divorce makes for fascinating reading as she refuses to pass judgment on Martin, instead offering a running series of pithy analytical observations about their split: "Love is not a social democrat, Martin. It doesn't allow itself to be redistributed, it doesn't go in much for solidarity. You thought it did, didn't you?" Grøndahl's sardonic character writing sharpens some pedestrian plotting—Irene takes up with an old lover and deals with the effects of the divorce on her two children—but what distinguishes the novel is the final narrative spin in which Beckman learns that she is the result of a fling her mother, Vivian, had with a concert cellist. The tone shifts considerably during the chapters in which she tracks down Samuel Balkin, who describes his affair with Vivian and his subsequent marriage to a former concentration camp prisoner. The unexpected revelation of Beckman's Jewish background drives the unusual conclusion as Grøndahl delivers a series of entertaining and impressive insights about the unknowable nature of love and the partners we choose. (Apr.)