To some of us solitude may be sitting on a park bench amidst a bustling city. To Trond Sander, seclusion is a rickety forest cabin in the far east of Norway. For company his only companion is his dog, Lyra. Isolation is 67-year-old Trond’s chosen existence — ‘all my life I have longed to be alone in a place like this’. Do not think for one moment that Out Stealing Horses is in any aspect claustrophobic or disheartening — quite the contrary. Although Trond has recently lost his wife and sister, this is an entirely gloom-free novel. Law-abiders and lovers of our four-legged friends can also rest easy, as no horses were stolen in the making of this novel. ‘Out stealing horses’ is merely a term used by Trond and his boyhood friend, Jon, when out on an early- morning gallivant.
At times, for instance when reflecting on his father’s audacious adventures in the second world war, we are on the edge of our seats — craving more information as Trond’s life and that of his family is tantalisingly unravelled.
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