Snorri & Frosti

By Ben Myers

"You know, sometimes I wake up and for a few moments I think I am teenager again. Sometimes I feel like I am a young man and all the people who have died are still here, and I have my whole life ahead of me. Then I remember." A haunting novella from Benjamin Myers about two old brothers, in a cabin, in a north European country, chopping wood, rubbing along, living and... well, we don't want to say more. But this is a special, strange and wonderfully touching piece of writing. Writing to love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Galley Beggar Press
• Release date: Jul 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781910296073

Ben Myers

Ben Myers was born in Durham in 1976. He is the author of several works of fiction, non-fiction and poetry. His writing has appeared in a number of publications including Melody Maker, NME, Mojo and the Guardian. He lives in rural Yorkshire. His work has been translated into seven languages and his short stories have appeared in dozens of print anthologies and underground publications. His novel Richard was published by Picador in 2010. His novel Pig Iron (Bluemoose, 2012) was runner-up in the Guardian's Not The Booker Prize 2012 and won the inaugural Gordon Burn prize in 2013.

Book preview

Snorri & Frosti

Snorri and Frosti are brothers.

They live in a wooden cabin on a remote hillside outside of a village in a northern European country. They are old. In their seventies. Snorri is the elder of the pair by two or three years. The cabin has one bedroom, a kitchen and one main room with a wood-burning stove in it. They have lived there all of their lives. Snow covers the surrounding slopes for more than half the year. Snorri and Frosti chop wood for people and tend to the land for a living. Once a week they walk into town to buy supplies.

It is winter. It is cold. Frosti has a headache.

Breakfast.

Are You Awake?

Snorri.

...

Snorri.

Yes.

Are you awake?

No.

There’s been a big fall in the night, Snorri. Look how light the room is. Hear how the world is muffled.

I’m sleeping.

Brother, I can’t sleep. I have been awake for a long time, just lying here, not moving, except for my toes. I think the snow will be up to the porch today.

...

I said I think the snow will be up to the porch.

Frosti.

Yes.

Go and see the snow if you like. But I am sleeping.

That’s OK. The snow can wait.

Then light the fire.

I think I’d like to just lie here a little longer and enjoy the silence.

What silence?

The silence of the valley.

I don’t hear silence. All I hear is you.

Can you even hear silence? That’s my question. I am not so sure that silence can even make a sound.

Now you’re being pedantic. Let me sleep. It is too early for this type of discussion.

Sometimes the silence is deafening, Snorri. I find that odd. That silence can ring in your ears.

That is a contradiction.

You have never stood in the wood and listened to the roar of silence?

Yes. Yes I have.

Then you know what I mean, Snorri.

Yes. I do.

Today the silence is deafening. I can hear it. And the early morning fall is so fresh and the sun so low on along the ridge that the snow it as pink as a side of salmon.

...

Snorri.

What now.

I think I’m going to go and light the fire after all.

So light the fire.

Are you going to back to sleep?

I’m awake now. But I may have another ten minutes.

You used to get up two hours before daylight.

I used to do a lot of things. We’re old men now.

Speak for yourself.

I don’t speak for anyone else.

You know, sometimes I wake up and for a few moments I think I am teenager again. Sometimes I feel like I am a young man and all the people who have died are still here, and I have my whole life ahead of me. Then I remember.

Sleep plays tricks.

Yes it does. Sometimes sleep is like time travel. I’m going to light the fire now.

Did you hear the geese in the night, Frosti?

No. I missed them. I always miss them.

One day.

One day.

It Is Your Turn To Make The Coffee."

It is your time to make the coffee.

I believe I made the coffee yesterday, Snorri.

No. I think you are wrong there little brother.

In this instance I think it is you that is wrong. I specifically remember because I spilled a little hot water on my hand.

I don’t remember that.

It blistered.

Let me see.

Here – take a look.

That’s not a blister,