Surprisingly devoid of ego, and deeply thoughtful.

The Paris Review

A marvelously inventive road-trip novel, told as one long conversation in the aftermath of a capsized marriage

Available Sep 15, 2026

Hafni Says

Fiction by Helle Helle

Translated from Danish by Martin Aitken

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.

Paperback

published: Sep 15, 2026

ISBN:
9780811239493
Price U.S.:
16.95
Trim Size:
5 x 8
Page Count:
144

Ebook

ISBN:
9780811239509

Surprisingly devoid of ego, and deeply thoughtful.

The Paris Review

Helle Helle surpasses herself in this tale of shame and screw-ups. Like few writers, she manages to reproduce herself in such a way that each new novel buds from the one(s) before it, not as a clone or a one-to-one copy, but as one of those small wonders that life bestows upon us. A kind of literary-evolutionary self-propagation, a self-refining process of cell division, the art of writing at its very best.

Berlingske

One of my favorite Danish writers—she's the master.

Olga Ravn, The Guardian

Hafni Says is artfully constructed, the language is spare yet refined, full of half-sentences and gaps, with pauses for glances and gestures, for revelations, joys, and disappointments. This is poetry, compressed storytelling that builds, through a hundred small scenes, into a sweeping novel. Helle Helle crafts this female tragicomedy with unburdened elegance.

Neue Zürcher Zeitung