With sticky and tangible observations about anticipation, loss, love, fear, familial dysfunction, and hope, Trondheim is an observant and memorable novel.

“Trust is so close a cousin of hope that in an inattentive person the two are easily confused.”

The characterisation is prickling sharp and the push and pull between a troubled couple is beautifully captured. The language is taut despite being descriptive and kept me keen on taking the journey to know the interiority of a troubled couple‘s dynamic when faced with a crisis. Cormac successfully curls out bitterness and resentments that underline prolonged proximity by placing the couple in a stressful situation.

“It’s like there’s something strong you know you’re meant to be feeling, but you can’t quite connect with it. And you kind of feel lonely for it. Even if you know it’s bad.”

On the surface level, Trondheim is a quick snapshot of a rocky relationship over a span of a week. But what’s masterful about it is that Cormac dives into apropos crevices of the couple’s dynamic to paint a picture of their relationship outside of the setting of the novel. The claustrophobia and bleakness of their relationship looms over everything that takes place and even after the novel has ended.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Sure it has its downs but overall, Trondheim is a lovely read!