During the early hours of the 7th of April 1990, a devastating blaze erupted on board the ferry Scandinavian Star, a car and passenger ferry traveling between Frederikshavn and Oslo. Insufficient staff training combined with jammed fire doors accelerated the spread of the fire, while deadly cyanide gas emitted from combusting materials led to the deaths of 159 individuals. At first, the disaster was blamed to a traveler—a truck driver with a record of fire-setting. Given that this suspect too perished in the fire and was unable to defend the accusations, the full facts regarding the disaster remained concealed for a long time. It wasn't until 2020 that a comprehensive documentary disclosed the fire was likely set intentionally as part of an insurance fraud.
Within the initial book of Asta Olivia Nordenhof's epic series, the preceding volume, an unnamed protagonist is traveling on a bus through the Danish capital when she observes an elderly man on the street. As the vehicle drives away, she experiences an “eerie sense” that she is taking a piece of him with her. Compelled to retrace the journey in pursuit of him, the character enters a landscape that is both unfamiliar and deeply familiar. She presents us to a couple named Maggie and Kurt, whose relationship is tested by the burdens of their troubled histories. In the final pages of that volume, it is implied that the root of the character's disaffection may stem from a poor investment made on his account by a man known as T.
This second installment begins with an lengthy poetic passage in which the writer describes her struggle to write T's story. “Within this volume, two,” she states, “we were supposed / to follow him / from youth up until / the night / when he sat anticipating for / the report that / the fire / on the ferry / had successfully been / set.” Overwhelmed by the undertaking she has set herself and derailed by the global health crisis, she tackles the story obliquely, as a form of parable. “It occurred to me / that I / can do / whatever I want / so this / is my book / this is / for you / this is / an sensational story / about entrepreneurs and / the dark force.”
A narrative gradually emerges of a woman who experiences quarantine in London with a near-unknown person and over the course of those weeks relates to him what happened to her a ten years before, when she accepted an proposal from a figure who professed to be the evil entity to fulfill all her desires, so long as she didn't question his intentions. As the threads of the dual narratives become more intertwined, we start to suspect that they are one and the same—or at the very least that the nature of T is multiple, for there are devils everywhere.
Another blaze is present: an ardent, compelling commitment to writing as a form of activism
Classic stories instruct us that it is the dark figure who makes bargains, not God, and that we engage in them at our peril. But what if the protagonist herself is the malevolent force? A third storyline eventually emerges—the story of a young woman whose childhood was scarred by mistreatment and who was placed in a mental health facility, under duress to conform with social expectations or suffer more of the same. “[The devil] understands that in the scenario you've created for it, there are a pair of results: submit or stay a beast.” A third way out is finally unveiled through a collection of verses to the night that are simultaneously a call to arms against the influences of wealth and power.
Numerous British readers of Nordenhof's Scandinavian Star books will think right away of the Grenfell Tower fire, which, though unintentional in cause, bears similarities in that the ensuing disaster and fatalities can be linked at least partly to the dangerous trade-off of prioritizing financial gain over people. In these first two books of what is projected to be a multi-volume sequence, the fire on board the ferry and the series of fraudulent transactions that ended in mass murder are a ominous background presence, revealing themselves only in brief flashes of information or inference yet casting a deepening influence over everything that occurs. Certain readers may doubt how much it is feasible to interpret this volume as a stand-alone piece, when its purpose and meaning are so deeply bound into a broader whole whose ultimate shape, at present, is unknowable.
There will be others—and I count myself as one of them—who will become enamored with Nordenhof's project purely as written art, as truly innovative literature whose ethical and creative intent are so profoundly interlinked as to make them inseparable. “Write poems / for we require / that too.” Another kind of blaze exists: a passionate, magnetic devotion to the craft as a political act. I intend to persist to follow this series, no matter where it goes.
A tech enthusiast and digital strategist with over a decade of experience in emerging technologies and content creation.