This is a joke. The author is responsible for the opinions expressed in the text.
A thoughtful acquaintance let me borrow a book he thought I would appreciate, which I did.
“Kåk i Eken” is the name of the book, written by the author Vilhelm Ragnar, published in 1959 and set in a tenement house on Surbrunnsgatan in Eken, Stockholm.
From my childhood I remember straight Surbrunnsgatan, from the western end of which you could see the Värtan gas bell far to the east.
Krogen Surbrunn later became a successful stand-up hook, inspired by Lenny Bruce in New York. In my day, people lined up outside waiting for the daily ration. This is also the case in the novel “Kåk i Eken”.
The plot revolves around the widow Levin, just over forty years with a three year old son. Her late husband was an arborist, a precision-oriented profession that used to trigger the job advertisement on the radio: “An arborist is needed for Västerås…”
Widow Levin cleans apartments and has a resident who is also an admirer, the driver, construction worker and petty thief Knut Lundin. His name is Mandrom, the old Stockholm Roma word for “I”.
Mandrom drinks morning coffee in Café Morrhåret, where Boman, the bouncer, keeps order and fat Kassan sits behind the counter and shouts through the kitchen hatch: one and a half to two crusts. He is served by the thoroughbred in the shiny coat and reluctantly lends her a hundred crowns, which she promises to pay back.
Mandrom, in turn, owes ten crowns to Svamlarn, an elegantly dressed young man who also lives in the house, courts the widow Levin and drinks wine.
The porter Stregander’s wife is holding a box with the stewardess, “whose sweater and pants seemed ready to burst given the hustle and bustle of the belligerent.” Paderewski is a refugee whose past fate the neighbors don’t know much about, but imagines is disturbing and tragic. The carpenter Blom lives here and also the car blacksmith Fritte Flyg, who wears a plum-colored top, which was already out of fashion back then.
Another time, another city. Today all that remains of the area are the bricks of the houses.
And the street names.
The book is easy to read and smells of outdated reality and everyday details. Was that the last time the word phone holder appeared in a novel? This is what the frame on the roof for the telephone lines was called.
An unpretentious contemporary document that I’m glad I was able to read.
P.S. Waking up in the middle of the night and realizing that you didn’t see the gas meter in Värtan from Surbrunnsgatan, but from Frejgatan.
Read more of Säverman’s series, such as how long Lake Hammarby’s ice retains its identity when it melts.
