Jess in Transit

The Bookshelf

Before I travel, I like to read books from my intended destination as a way of dipping my toe into the culture. Before kicking off my 2026 adventure, I set myself the challenge of reading at least two books set in each country I planned to visit.

 

The criteria for the challenge were simple: one book had to be considered a classic, and the other had to be published in the twenty-first century, though not necessarily set in it. I hoped the classic would give me some insight into the country’s literary canon and history, while the newer work would reflect something of the country’s present-day concerns and values. Even if the newer novel is set in an earlier period, the modern perspective often shapes the book, particularly how modern writers view the country’s history. Reading the two together also creates interesting points of comparison, showing which attitudes and values have shifted over time and which remain the same.

 

Obviously, two books cannot capture the full complexity of a place or its people, and limiting myself to only two inevitably narrows the range of experiences, perspectives, and regions I get to read about. Still, I hoped the books I chose would serve as a good gateway into each country’s culture and, for me, provide inspiration for places to explore.

 

Also, I will update this page as I read, so be sure to check back.

 

List updated May 25, 2026

Iceland

Independent People by Halldór Laxness, 1934-35 (translated by J.A. Thompson, 1946)

One of the most famous Icelandic novels, Independent People is an epic spanning the life of Bjartur, a sheep farmer who, after almost two decades of servitude, gains freedom and is determined to set up his own operation, independent of anyone else. We follow Bjartur and his experiences with his family, townspeople, and sheep (there are lots of sheep) through the decades, including the economic roller coaster during the early twentieth century and its impacts on farmers. While running his sheep farm, Bjartur does not want to ask for help or accept it when offered, even if the help will ease the hardships of his family. Bjartur expects his family to adhere to his rigid ideals, but his children have their own views of independence and find their own ways to rebel against their father’s practices.

 

Throughout the novel, readers are given insight into certain aspects of Icelandic tradition and culture, including the importance of storytelling, poetry, and folklore. Bjartur recites poetry and encourages the learning of the sagas, and it is seen how orally sharing these stories keeps culture and history alive. Though Bjartur upholds the storytelling tradition, the same cannot be said about his relationship with folklore and local ritual. The land Bjartur purchases is said to be haunted by a spirit, and those who visit the land are cautious and respectful, making offerings of stones to the spirit. Bjartur, however, is bolstered by his newfound independence and does not want to think himself beholden to outside forces and rejects the custom. Whether the misfortunes that follow Bjartur and his family are due to this rejection, his inability to ask for help when needed, or a combination of the two is up to the interpretation of the reader.

Miss Iceland by Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir, 2018 (translated by Brian FitzGibbon, 2020)

Set in the 1960s, Miss Iceland follows the story of Hekla, a young woman named after an Icelandic volcano, who moves to Reykjavík to pursue her dreams of becoming a writer. She faces adversity in this pursuit as, during this time in Iceland, the literary landscape is small and male-dominated, and women’s literary ambitions are often dismissed. We follow Hekla as she navigates her way around her new life in Reykjavík as well as her various relationships. There’s her friend Ísey, a new mother who is feeling dissatisfied with her path in life; her friend Jón John, a gay man who has to face the prejudice of the people around him and the expectations of traditional masculinity; and a romantic relationship with a poet from whom Hekla keeps her writing secret.

Though the novel shows how slowly change can come to isolated and socially conservative Iceland, it also hints that change is approaching its shores. The characters hear news of political and social shifts abroad while volcanoes are erupt around them, literally changing the landscape. The whispers of change give the characters hope for the future, but they must also face the anxiety and frustration that comes when social change does not occur fast enough. The book offers a compelling perspective on what Reykjavík was like before gaining its modern reputation for being socially and economically liberal.

Denmark

Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen, translated by Mrs. Edgar Lucas

Whether through childhood reading or through adaptation, I’m sure most of us, at least in Western culture, are somewhat familiar with Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales. But since it’s usually the more popular ones that have baked themselves into the culture, I thought it was worth reading the source material to become familiar with the lesser known ones. As with any collection, some of the tales will appeal more to some readers than others, especially given the range of tone and subject matter. 


At times, Andersen leans into the whimsical, fantastical, and imaginative, while others do not shy away from the brutality of life. As with many tales associated with children’s literature, there are moral lessons to be gleaned from the stories; what I did not expect as much was that many of those lessons were framed in the context of Christian salvation. A striking number of the stories don’t end with “and they lived happily ever after” as we have grown accustomed to, but rather the stories end in death followed by entry into Heaven or a form of spiritual transcendence. Though certainly to modern readers some of these stories can lean feel preachy and overly didactic, they reflect the moral and philosophical attitudes of nineteenth-century Denmark. For Andersen, the “happily ever after” is in the spiritual and exists in the life after death, and the story ending in earthly happiness may have felt incomplete. I am not religious myself, but I nonetheless appreciated how frankly Andersen explores themes of suffering, death, salvation, and grief, not shying away from dark and mature themes.


On the whole, the stories are imaginative, with rich language and imagery. Even if you don’t read the entire volume, I think it’s worth reading the classics and exploring the lesser-known tales to immerse yourself into his writing and his imagination. Because Andersen’s tales have influenced generations of writers and have become so familiar to audiences, it is easy to forget the imagination it took to create them in the first place.

Mirror, Shoulder, Signal by Dorthe Nors, 2016 (translated by Misha Hoekstra, 2017)

Mirror, Shoulder, Signal follows Sonja, a woman who wants to change her life but is having trouble shifting gears – both literally and metaphorically. A single, childless woman in her forties, Sonja feels herself existing on the periphery of society, where she must navigate several areas of uncertainty and indecision in her life. Sonja works translating Swedish crime novels into Danish but is becoming bored with her work; she has a strained relationship with her sister and does not know how to bridge the gap; she succumbs to frequent bouts of vertigo; and, despite living in crowded Copenhagen, she feels alone and isolated and wants to return home to Jutland.


In an attempt to regain some control of her life, Sonja starts taking driving lessons in pursuit of her license. We follow Sonja as she navigates the peaks and pits of her driving lessons and her attempts to belong with those around her throughout the novel. The book explores the distance Sonja feels between herself and the people around her, who she just can’t understand and who can’t understand her, while simultaneously hinting at the divide and tension between urban Copenhagen and rural Jutland. A slim volume, Mirror, Shoulder, Signal is not fast-paced or plot-heavy, but rather it is an examination of a woman as she attempts to gain more control of her life.

Germany

Faust by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe (Part 1, 1808; Part 2, 1832), (translated by A.S Kline, 2003)

A cornerstone of Western literature in general and German literature in particular, Goethe’s play follows Heinrich Faust, a brilliant but arrogant scholar, frustrated because he has studied all academic disciplines but feels he will never obtain all the knowledge of Heaven and Earth. After becoming the focus of a Job-ian wager between God and an agent of the Devil, Mephistopheles, Faust enters into an agreement with Mephistopheles. Mephistopheles will serve Faust and grant him worldly experience and knowledge during Faust’s life, but in exchange Faust must serve Mephistopheles in the afterlife. If Mephistopheles can ever fully satisfy Faust’s desires and lead him to complacency, then Mephistopheles can take Faust’s soul. We accompany Faust and Mephistopheles through a series of scenes that range from the comic, the tragic, the scary, and the downright weird. We follow Faust’s doomed relationship with the mistreated Gretchen, encounters with evil spirits on Walpurgis Night, hijinks with gods and goddesses of myth, some serious political shenanigans, and Faust becoming power hungry in pursuit of land. Despite the knowledge gained and the influence of Mephistopheles, Faust never succumbs to complacent pleasure and is always striving for more.

 

The German legend of Faust is based on Johann Georg Faust, a traveling alchemist that garnered a reputation as a conman and a heretic, allegedly for proclaiming his powers surpassed God. The legend morphed, with people believing that he got his powers through a deal with the devil, and this tale grew and gained popularity through literature, including notably Christopher Marlowe’s The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus. In most traditional tellings, Faust sells his soul in exchange for knowledge and is ultimately damned. Goethe reworks this idea because Faust’s striving for knowledge does not result in immediate damnation, but instead it is essential for his redemption. Though we see Faust make several moral mistakes, most famously in his dealing with Gretchen, Goethe believes the moral value in life is less grounded in our decision making but rather in the direction in which it is striving. Goethe presents Faust’s striving as essential to Faust’s redemption and, though he certainly blunders, he is ultimately saved, unlike in traditional adaptations where Faust is damned. The play suggests that errors are not indicators of someone moving away from the righteous path but rather are a consequence of striving and are essential for development, themes that would continue to shape German literature in the years to come.

Visitation by Jenny Erpenbeck, 2008 (translated by Susan Bernosky, 2010)

Told in a series of fragmented vignettes, the book centers on a lake house property and its various owners and occupants as a means to tell the story of Germany’s various transformations during the twentieth century. Readers are immersed in the stories of a Jewish cloth manufacturer and his family and witness the devastation the family endures during the Holocaust; an architect and his wife, who design their dream house on the lake but after World War II have to flee to West Berlin after buying materials from the East; a vengeful Russian solider who stays in the house towards the end of the war and encounters someone hiding there; and an estate agent tries to sell the house and deal with the complicated matter of ownership after German reunification. The only consistent character and throughline is a gardener on the property, whose life runs parallel to the events of the book, and we get to see his perspective during alternating chapters.


Beautifully written, immersive, and at times emotionally devastating, Erpenbeck gives an unflinching look at German history, exploring darkness and guilt. She is able to distill the complexities of twentieth-century German history down to a cast of characters, giving larger historical events human focus. Though only 150 pages, a lot of history and artistry is packed in here. Everything is intricately layered, with small details and motifs planted and woven throughout that are all the more appreciated upon rereading. Though a reader could knock this out in an afternoon, I think it’s worth taking your time, considering each occupant, and understanding all the shifts Germany went through from the perspective of the characters.

The Netherlands

The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank [The Definitive Edition], 1991 (translated by Susan Massotty, 1995)

For the most part, I wanted to focus on novels for this challenge. But I had to make an exception here. I had read The Diary of a Young Girl once over fifteen years ago, but I read the one at my school library and I can’t remember which edition or translation it was. Since I plan on visiting the Anne Frank house when I’m in Amsterdam, I figured it was time to read it again, and this time ensure I read the definitive edition.

 

Anne Frank kept a diary from 1942 to 1944, writing about herself, her family, and other Jewish people hiding in an Amsterdam annex to evade Nazi capture. She illustrates the fear and anxiety of being discovered while also illustrating the tensions and conflicts that arise when living together in a confined space. Beyond capturing the experience of the oppressed in hiding, she vividly illustrates the experience of a young woman growing up and her complex inner world. Anne writes frankly about love, sexuality, and getting her period, and she shows herself to be intelligent, funny, brash, self-centered, opinionated, kind, and hopeful. Anne also writes about the future, about the hopes and dreams she had for herself and should have had the chance to realize. When we read that, we are painfully aware we are not reading a coming-of-age story but rather a coming-of-age story cut short by atrocity.

The Discomfort of Evening by Lucas Rijneveld, 2018 (translated by Michele Hutchison, 2020)

Winner of the 2020 International Booker Prize, The Discomfort of Evening follows Jas, a young girl living in the rural Netherlands in a Dutch Reformed community, as her family grapples with the death of her brother. I was initially drawn to this book because it centers on a Reformed Dutch family, and I wanted to learn more about that aspect of Dutch culture. Though not to say that this book represents all Reformed families, it does offer a perspective that contrasts with the image many have of the Netherlands as a progressive country, an impression often shaped by its association with Amsterdam. By selecting a book set outside of Amsterdam, it gave me a chance to see the conservatism that exists in the rural Netherlands and explore grief in the context of a Reformed Dutch family.

 

I will warn you there is some incredibly disturbing material in this book. Other books on this list also include intense and upsetting content, but this one stood out. It includes incest, sexual abuse, animal cruelty, and graphic descriptions of bodily functions and harm, written with unflinching vividness and brutality. Everything feels intentionally ruthless, unrelenting, and psychologically disturbing, making the reader feel the same discomfort that Jas is enduring. It’s an interesting exploration of how children and families are warped under the pressures of grief, isolation, and religious rigidity, but just brace yourself.

Belgium

Cheese by Willem Elsschot, 1933 (translated by Sander Berg, 2017)

A short, deceptively simple book about a clerk in Antwerp who tries and fails to become a cheese merchant. Frans Laarmans is a minor office worker, mourning the death of his mother and dealing with shame at parties because his career is not as illustrious as the other attendees. He wants the respectability and access to a higher social circle, so when the opportunity to become a distributor of Dutch cheese falls into his lap, he pursues the opportunity because of the status it brings more than an interest in the work – the man actually hates cheese. We follow him trying to set up his business, often focusing on the less important aspects of enterprise instead of actually selling cheese, and the problems he encounters as a result. Laarmans likes the idea of having this more prestigious job but does not quite have the skillset to fulfill the job at hand, and this tension is the source of the novel’s comedy.


Additionally, I couldn’t help but think about this novel’s attitude toward ambition versus the American attitude. Whereas America often treats the entrepreneurial spirit as admirable and worth pursuing, Cheese explores the idea of treating ambition as something to keep private rather than display. Further, American literature tends to deal with the pursuit of big dreams and how those are achieved, lost, or stolen, whereas here there is nothing too grandiose being pursued, but rather small risks, small dreams, and small failures. Laarmans’s failure is not devastating or earth-shattering, but rather a fact of life. As such, I think Cheese reflects Belgian skepticism toward ambition and social climbing, especially during the time it was written.

On Black Sisters’ Street by Chika Unigwe, 2009

On Black Sisters’ Street examines Antwerp through the experiences of four African women, three from Nigeria and one from Sudan, working in the city’s red-light district and how their lives are impacted when one of the women is found murdered. The novel explores each woman’s backstory and how factors such as war, lack of job opportunities for women, and familial issues made them want to pursue life abroad. So when they meet Dele, who offers them opportunities for work in Europe but is not always honest about the work they will be doing, they take the opportunity to go to Belgium. Once they arrive, their undocumented status, debt obligations to Dele and Madam, the woman who runs the brothel, and leave them trapped in an exploitative situation.

 

Chika Unigwe lived in Belgium for several years and interviewed African immigrants working as sex workers in the red-light district while researching her book. The novel explores the complexities of regulated sex work, revealing the gap between the idea of regulated sex work and the reality faced by undocumented women, particularly Black women, who are coerced and denied basic protections.