On our holiday in Denmark, we found a bookshop with a decent selection of Danish books translated into English. In a surprise turn, I picked out a sci-fi novel (Freezing Point by Anders Bodelsen) and Tim picked a literary novel: Waist Deep by Linea Maja Ernst (translated from Danish by Sherilynn Nicolette Hellberg).

A group of friends from university, 12 years after they first met, spend seven summer days in a lakeside cabin. It should be a lovely, relaxing time with their favourite people. But desires, anxieties and the realities of adult life are putting everyone under pressure. No-one is saying what they really think or feel.

Sylvia is our main point of view character. She’s a daydreamer, easily lost in her own thoughts and her version of reality. She’s also more than a little pretentious – she longs to be seen as artistic and insightful.

Gry is the mother hen – and the only literal mother in the group. She studies folklore, but worries that she is no longer taken seriously as an academic, or as a person beyond her role as a parent.

“All of her friends were ready to be admitted with postnatal depression, they were reading critical books about motherhood, ‘breaking the taboo’, and saying aloud how terrible the early years were, and in secret Gry was loving it, the oxytocin taps were open wide…She feels it like a deep confidence inside her…But who is she? Is she a Moonminmamma, creating a safe home and nurturing everyone, never herself needing to go on strenuous adventures, risking anything, wanting anything?”

Quince is the only single person in the group. He’s a charming, Puck-like figure but secretly wishes he were more traditionally masculine. As Sylvia’s best friend he tends to support her, but also recognises her capacity for destructiveness.

Karen is the natural leader – tall, beautiful, capable, no-nonsense. The cabin belongs to her family – she spent summers there as a child and feels protective of the area.

Esben is a mild-mannered, reserved writer who has achieved some success. In fact, he is probably the most successful member of the group, though you wouldn’t know it from his demeanour.

The holiday also includes plus-ones – Sylvia’s girlfriend Charlie and Gry’s husband Adam – and Gry and Adam’s two young children. They’re very much outsiders in this group. Karen and Esben have been a couple since university. Charlie has become close to Quince but she doesn’t really know the others.

There’s a whole raft of hidden desires, jealousies and resentments here. Some of which I’m more sympathetic to than others. As a trans man, Quince is jealous of the cis men present, but even more jealous of Charlie, who exists comfortably in a non-traditionally-gendered space. Ernst writes very believably about this – it’s not the only thing Quince thinks about, just one of many.

Meanwhile, Sylvia has been harbouring a crush on Esben for a decade. She has convinced herself she stands a chance with Esben, even as he and Karen announce they are getting married. Her flights of fancy get increasingly convoluted as the days pass.

“Sylvia feels full of potential when they talk, when he nods thoughtfully at something she has said…She loves that she still gets slightly nervous when they talk, an exposed feeling, like taking an exam. If they were a couple, that would be her normal state, then she would have the energy to finish boring books, she would understand that they weren’t boring at all, she would rise up.”

As well as these bigger issues, there are pettier ones. Who is or isn’t pulling their weight at mealtimes. (There are some mouthwatering descriptions of food.) Who is joining in group activities and who is keeping themselves apart.

One thing I should mention about this book: it’s very frank about sex. These people are young and horny and this is evident from the first page. This never felt unnecessary to me – it’s simply that sex is part of these characters’ lives.

This is exactly the kind of novel about middle-class arty people that can be deeply annoying. But Ernst managed to make me care about these people. There were moments that made me ache for a character who is being misunderstood, or holding back the truth for fear of misunderstanding. Plus I was reading this book in the Danish countryside on my summer holiday, often with a drink in hand.

The path the story takes isn’t predictable. And the commentary on gender and relationships is different from what I’ve read elsewhere. I can see why this has been an international bestseller.

Kun Til Navlen published 2024 by Lindhardt og Ringhof.

This translation first published 2025 by Jonathan Cape.

Source: Politikens Boghal, Copenhagen.