Nikolsk, Nicolas Dickner

So I read this for a book club, and I’m really not sure how to describe it. I’m used to books with a plot, for starters. I really am not sure that this story had one. You’d think that a book that involves a mummified body and piracy would be plot-laden- but no.

So there are three Main Characters. Teenagers! One is in Montreal, two are not. Then for reasons including running away, running to, and staying in hiding, they are all in Montreal. One works in a book store, one works in a fish shop, and one lives over the fish shop. They do not meet.

Time passes. While studying subjects that one of the Main Characters does not want to study, he knocks up a girl. This is about the same time that another girl steals computers and acquires visa numbers by undefined means. She also steals books from another other main character, who watches adoringly and does not do anything. The guy who knocked up a girl runs away with the girl, who does not acknowledge that she was knocked up- or a guy was involved in the fact that she now has a son- in any way. (It’s very french.)

Time passes. Computer-thief finds a mummified body and has a crisis of conscience. Student-guy lazily runs away from a flood. Bookseller invites the Thief over to get drunk, and she steals some things and leaves him on the floor with all his clothes on.

People think about their lives. FULL STOP OF STORY.

So, in terms of plot, I’m sure it’s in there. Being french. And hiding. But I’m not very clever at finding it, seeing as I prefer my plots of be loudly present with lots of blood and explosions. But the characters were interesting, which is why I gave it three stars out of five.

(And oddly enough, my mom loved the book, which just goes to show. YOU might love it too!)

2 thoughts on “Nikolsk, Nicolas Dickner

  1. Spartezda

    …Huh.

    I think that is the sum totality of my comment, beyond wondering how finding mummified bodies induces crises of conscience. I mean, if I found a mummified body, my next step would be investigation to find out who it was and how they had ended up dead and desiccated wherever I had managed to find them. Now I'm imagining the discoverers of King Tut's tomb immediately breaking off to have a philosophy circle/group therapy meeting.

    Huh.

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