Aednan

Sámi Swedish writer Axelsson makes her memorable American debut with a verse novel that spans generations of two Sámi families, addressing themes of migration and colonial suffering through short-lined, atmospheric poems. The epigraphs of these untitled, numbered entries situate the reader. The opener, “Night camp at Lake Gobmejávri, near to where Sweden, Finland, and Norway meet. Early spring 1913,” paints a scenic, ruminative portrait that is characteristic of Axelsson: “A rangeland runs/ from the forest snow to/ the windswept shore// There my herd scrapes/ and leads us/ land to land/ prying me from/ your arms// Alone / among the lichen.” She captures domestic moments with the same eye, providing glimpses into private settings: “In the morning/ we wake early/ drink strong coffee// Hear Uncle Ernst/ treading around in/ the apartment below us// Before he turns/ the key/ tramps into the stairwell// Then he knocks awhile/ on our door// Some article in Flamman/ has probably upset him// and now he needs to/ discuss it// But we don’t/ want to be home// we disappear/ under the covers.” Spanning 100 years, this sensitive, beautiful, quietly rendered epic tells an impactful tale of community and survival. (Jan.)