Jenny Aschenbrenner’s debut novel, ”Den enda vägen är upp, baby,” revolves around Erika, a woman grappling with the sudden death of her childhood friend, Paula. Triggered by this loss, Erika embarks on a physical journey to visit Paula’s mother, who still resides in their old suburban neighbourhood north of Stockholm. This outward journey mirrors an internal one, a poignant descent into the vivid landscape of shared memories, beginning with seemingly innocuous childhood moments like Erika tasting snow-mixed gravel and observing Paula swinging in her bright pink snowsuit. Aschenbrenner skillfully utilizes these seemingly insignificant details to reconstruct not just a shared history, but the very essence of childhood itself, a time when meaning is ascribed to the smallest objects and experiences, forever etching themselves onto our consciousness.
Aschenbrenner masterfully paints the charged landscape of childhood and adolescence, imbuing mundane objects like pipe cleaners and scented erasers with symbolic weight, transforming them into gateways to memories of adolescent experimentation and nascent desires. The narrative is punctuated with the kind of outlandish anecdotes that disproportionately impact a child’s perception of the world, like the urban legend of a coin dropped from the Eiffel Tower gaining lethal momentum. This narrative technique effectively captures the peculiar and often exaggerated way children process information, demonstrating the lasting power of these early impressions. Aschenbrenner further elevates her prose with moments of raw intensity, vividly portraying the chaotic energy of adolescence, as exemplified by a scene involving a disliked substitute teacher. This skillful blend of nostalgic details and potent prose creates a compelling narrative that draws the reader into Erika’s world.
The central mystery of the novel, the unspoken event that fractured Erika and Paula’s friendship, is skillfully deployed, keeping the reader engaged and anticipating the eventual revelation. Aschenbrenner maintains a delicate balance, hinting at the pivotal event without prematurely divulging its details, effectively building suspense throughout the narrative. However, despite these strengths, the novel suffers from a pervading sense of nostalgia that occasionally overwhelms the narrative’s forward momentum. While the detailed descriptions of the childhood environment effectively evoke a sense of time and place, certain elements, such as the side story involving a neighbour and his Dalmatian, feel somewhat tangential and lack a clear narrative purpose. This abundance of detail, while beautifully rendered, sometimes detracts from the central narrative, becoming a stylistic impediment rather than an enhancement.
The narrative also struggles with a certain diffuseness, particularly in its handling of the neighbour’s tragic backstory. While the inclusion of neighbourhood voices provides a vibrant backdrop to the story, their integration feels somewhat disjointed, failing to fully coalesce with the broader narrative. Furthermore, the framing narrative of Erika’s journey back to her childhood home, while thematically relevant, feels somewhat contrived. Although it mirrors the imagined journey Erika and Paula once dreamed of undertaking, the execution lacks a certain authenticity. The inclusion of Erika’s observations of her surroundings, such as her description of Slussen and Sophiahemmet, feel more like obligatory filler than organic components of the narrative. These moments detract from the overall impact of the story, highlighting a need for tighter editing and a more focused narrative approach.
At its core, ”Den enda vägen är upp, baby” explores more profound themes than mere nostalgia. It delves into the relentless march of time, the disintegration of societal structures symbolized by the decaying suburban landscape, and the fragility of intimate friendships, particularly how a single event can irrevocably alter their course. These themes resonate with a universal human experience, elevating the novel beyond a simple coming-of-age story. The narrative’s strength lies in its portrayal of these subtle emotional undercurrents, the unspoken tensions and unresolved conflicts that shape our lives.
The novel ultimately leaves the reader with a poignant sense of the enduring power of the past. Regardless of the physical distance we traverse in life, symbolized by Erika’s journey on the Roslagsbanan train line, we can never truly escape the formative experiences that shape our identities. The memories of childhood, both joyful and painful, remain embedded within us, influencing our present and shaping our future. Aschenbrenner successfully captures this enduring influence, highlighting the complex interplay between past and present, and the inescapable impact of our formative years.
