Abstract
When a person grapples with severe illness and pain, it becomes our solemn duty to lend them an empathetic ear, allowing them the opportunity to articulate their struggles. However, what if the person in distress finds themselves incapable of conveying their torment through words? In Torgny Lindgren’s 1995 novel Hummelhonung (Sweetness), we are confronted with a profound exploration of the repercussions of a society adrift from its empathetic core. The novel revolves around two brothers who find themselves spending the evening of their lives in hostile proximity in the northern reaches of Sweden. Both burdened by severe illness and enduring relentless pain, the brothers remain shackled by their inability to directly confront and express their agonizing experiences. It is only when their long-repressed sensations finally erupt in a tumultuous verbal and physical outburst that they begin to confront their anguish. Through the stark contrast of stifling suppression and radical outburst, the microcosmic world within the book unfolds, revealing a reality where suffering and pain can only find expression through indirect forms of communication. Informed by a close reading of the text, I argue that the novel presents itself as an indirect, or silent, narrative of pain, compelling us to acknowledge the profound spectrum of the language of suffering.
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