English

This is my fiction webpage. I am also an economics professor. If you are looking for information about my research, you will find it here.

I write fiction in Norwegian. A few short stories are available in English, though:

 Adam in the Perfectly Competitive Market, taken from my 2016 collection Balladen om den usynlige hånd (The Ballad of the Invisible Hand), is a science fiction short story about a couple going on honeymoon to a world without market failure, translated by Rosie Hedger.

The Convex Hull will Always Exist is a story from the same book, also translated by Rosie Hedger.

 

The Wedding, from my 2010 debut collection Ikke rart det kommer kråker, has been translated by John Irons.

Below you will also find a short translated text from the fabulous, calf-skin bound Cappelens Forslags Conversational Lexicon, (Cappelens forslag), to which I have contributed several entries: Asphalt; Glasses; The Climate Problem (Volume I, 2014); Alphabet; Cosmos; Photosyntesis; Turbullence (Volume II, 2016). To understand the concept, I recommend this excellent explanation by the Guardian.

Below is Pil Cappelen Smith’s translation of my text Asphalt.

asphalt, 1. The surface in front of you, steaming; as the steamroller passes you realise you’re late, school must have started already. You throw your leg over the crossbar and grip the handlebars harder, stand still for a moment inhaling the smell of tarmac, then kick off and pedal around the corner, lean forward on top of the slope, and you see, in an instant, that the seventh graders are gone, there’s nobody in the school crossing, you see the cars on the road trying to brake for you, soundlessly, like a silent movie, the wind fills your ears and you fly through the crossing; the world is open, it’s spring.
2. Reflector for the orange light observable near streetlights in the rain, for example outside the house with the doorbell you’re no longer allowed to ring yet can´t stay away from. You stand under the maple tree, listening to the children´s voices through the open window as you consider the orange, gnarled, shiny entrails of the sidewalk.

Karine Nyborg