Tim Davys
Amberville

You read that he is a Swedish author, and that Tim Davys is a pseudonym.

I wrinkle my nose... not because of the pseudonym (me, of all people...): as far as my limited knowledge of Nordic literature goes, excellent works (Passilinna and Lindqvist) alternate with unbearable ones (the much-praised Larson, at my place, flew across the room around page 80 of the first chapter of the much-lauded trilogy...).

But this doesn't mean anything: what might a Swede think if they got their hands on a book by an Italian...? When it comes to sales, my friends, who represents us today is Moccia....

But let's get to the book. Not bad and not good. An interesting noir, rather well-written, with some keen psychological insights and others embarrassingly banal (perhaps well-founded...however...), and a structure and style that hold up. For heaven's sake: it doesn't stick you to the reading in that beautiful and obsessive way of being unable to do without it until the last page, but the work is readable.

Only, gigantic doubt: but why the hell are they all, I mean all, teddy bears?

And here I admit and confess to having had personal Hamlet-like doubts, introspections without result, feelings of guilt about the inevitable ignorance that besets us all....

What does it mean? Is there a "teddy bear school" that I am ignorantly unaware of? Is there some secret that I cannot, or do not want to, understand? Is it a test? A joke? A trick?

In short, why?

I really hope someone is able to explain it to me, also because if it were just a simple device I really wouldn't know what to think of it, except as an indescribable and outrageous nonsense.

In summary: a good noir, a bit flat, completely inhabited by teddy bears.

I'm puzzled.