I have to admit that I came to this book without knowing that the author is a Norwegian cultural icon, has written over twenty books and is critically admired, even feted by the critics, so this is an original review!

The story opens with a photography student, Kristian, living in London in the 1980s. He is self obsessed, self deceiving, narcissistic and, generally, rather unpleasant. He’s not a good photographer either, although he does have better taste in his choice of music which is described, like everything else, in minute detail. He is also antisocial and has fallen out with his family.

However, by the second half of the book he is a famous and highly successful photographer curating a retrospective exhibition in New York, so what has happened?

The link is something to do with Marlowe, Dr Faustus, an interest in the occult, an encounter with a down and out, and a strange man called Hans who becomes weirdly linked with Kristians life. It all leads to a rather nasty ending!

However, it has to be said that the story is always intriguing and superbly written. Things move at their own pace, so we can clearly see that Kristian is a so-so photographer at the same time as he rubbishes teachers and fellow students, and believes himself to be really talented. His failed and dismissive attempts at relationships create an unsettling picture of someone at the margins of living a normal life. The book draws you in!

In some ways, the first half of the book in Deptford bedsit land is more engaging than the years of success. He now has a wife, Yelena, and a child, Leo but the wife is simply a convenience to provide the child which the ending requires and you will have to decide for yourself whether that works.

Whatever you think, this is a profound and interesting novel which will leave you with questions and uncertainties but remains a compulsive and fascinating read.