Hafni says: I don’t want to be me. I want to change who I am. I don’t know how to change who I am.

Hafni has come to the end of her marriage. From a rest stop she phones the novel’s narrator—a main character from Helle Helle’s previous novel they—but it’s she who does all the talking. She’s been celebrating impending divorce with a “smørrebrød tour” of the southern Danish countryside, where she samples Danish classics, chiefly open-faced sandwiches and afternoon tea. A trip that was meant to take a week digresses once, then twice, until it ends up taking Hafni an entire month. As told in tightly controlled, splintered mini chapters, the book incarnates how Hafni herself digresses, and dwells. She seems to view her past as one long series of accidents and mistakes, the accumulation of which somehow became the life she was living, a life that she now longs to cast off so she can start anew. Nominated for the Nordic Council Literature Prize, Hafni Says is brought into English in a magnificent translation by Martin Aitken.

Following a number of moves from one shabby rental to another, they—the mother and daughter of this elusive, strangely riveting novel set in 1980s Denmark—now reside in an apartment over the hairdresser shop in the same island town where they’ve always lived. It's only the two of them, and they are so enmeshed that it can be hard to tell them apart: they share the same manners, habits, and opinions to an almost comic degree. One day the mother feels a lump below her chest, and as our young heroine reflects, “nothing’s the way it is.” While the mother is in and out of the hospital, the daughter—barely sixteen and just starting high school—makes new friends (Tove Dunk, Hafni, Bob, and Desert Boots) and meets a few boys, but she remains essentially alone. In its splintering, multi-layered, perpetual present tense, where the borders of time seemingly expand, flatten, and dissolve, Helle finds an unexpectedly moving voice for her heroines’ pain, one which rises almost wordlessly to then reach across and profoundly touch the reader. A poignant coming-of-age story and a comedy of errors, they is also a billet-doux to the fashions and fads of the island of Lolland, Helle’s childhood home: she painstakingly records what people wore, how they spoke, and the kinds of things they ate (“cauliflower gratin” and “macaroni horns in the tomato soup”). Gorgeously rendered into English by the prize-winning translator Martin Aitken, they is an exquisite small-town portrait—oblique, calibrated, and oddly affecting—of the love between a mother and daughter, of all its attendant longing, and the inevitable letting go.

LONGLISTED FOR THE INTERNATIONAL BOOKER PRIZE 2026

SHORTLISTED FOR THE NATIONAL BOOK CRITICS CIRCLE AWARD FOR THE GREG BARRIOS BOOK IN TRANSLATION

In seventeenth-century Denmark, Christenze Kruckow, an unmarried noblewoman, is accused of witchcraft. She and several other women are rumored to be possessed by the Devil, who has come to them in the form of a tall headless man and gives them dark powers: they can steal people’s happiness, they have performed unchristian acts, and they can cause pestilence or even death. They are all in danger of the stake.

The Wax Child, narrated by a wax doll created by Christenze Kruckow, is an unsettling horror story about brutality and power, nature and witchcraft, set in the fragile communities of premodern Europe.

Deeply researched and steeped in visceral, atmospheric detail, The Wax Child is based on a series of real witchcraft trials that took place in Northern Jutland in the seventeenth century. Full of lush storytelling and alarmingly rich imagination, Olga Ravn weaves in quotes from original sources such as letters, magical spells and manuals, court documents, and Scandinavian grimoires.

Shortlisted for the International Booker Prize, The Employees reshuffles a sci-fi voyage into a riotously original existential nightmare. Aboard the interstellar Six Thousand Ship, the human and humanoid crew members complain about their daily tasks in a series of staff reports and memos. When the ship takes on a number of strange objects from the planet New Discovery, the crew becomes deeply attached to them, even as tensions boil toward mutiny, especially among the humanoids. In chilling, crackling, and exhilarating prose, The Employees probes into what makes us human, while delivering a hilariously stinging critique of life governed by the logic of productivity.