Ten days ago, I lost the will to blog. I blame Stieg Larsson and his infuriatingly addictive book, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, which unfortunately for my children was the first in a trilogy (I am now part way through book 3).
I don’t want to do anything but read. I have lost the will to cook (the children are subsisting on a diet of pasta and pesto, with a big helping of the laxative lactulose for dessert). I have lost the will to fold the laundry (but I have invented a new game for the children – it’s called “Find your own school uniform, knickers etc in the laundry pile, extra points if it’s still a little damp.” I am very creative like that). And finally, I have lost the will to organise and tidy. This is particularly shocking, given that according to my mother, I have been organising and tidying since I could walk. The house looks like Toy’r’Us exploded on us and I don’t care, all I want to do is read.
The protagonists of this Swedish crime thriller are sexually liberated and frighteningly forward. The conservative, uptight Sri Lankan in me has read the sex scenes in absolute wonder (and some confusion). This has made me ask: are all Swedes as direct and open about what they want sexually, and if I tried to write a Sri Lankan crime thriller, would it be as thrilling?
Here is my attempt at translating a Swedish thriller into a Sri Lankan thriller:
Swede: Would you like me to seduce you?
Sri Lankan: Would you like me to introduce you to my parents?
Swede: Would you like to seduce me?
Sri Lankan: Would you like to introduce me to your parents?
Swede: I think we have a connection. Do you want to sleep with me?
Sri Lankan: I think we have a connection. You are my second cousin. Do you want to marry me?
Swede: Would you like a vibrator with your pickled herring?
Sri Lankan: Would you like a defibrillator with your deep-fried aubergine curry?
Swede: How would you like me to please you?
Sri Lankan: How would you like me to cook your aubergine curry?
And finally, if a Sri Lankan (probably one who was raised in Sweden) was ever able to ask the direct question of: Do you want to sleep with me?
Then the answer from the Sri Lankan respondent would have to be: I need to ask my mother who needs to ask the family astrologer, can I get back to you on that?
Sadly for Sri Lankans all over the world, and any one who had to read the Sri Lankan thriller, it’s not very thrilling. To complete my Sri Lankan crime thriller, I realise I also need a crime. Does checking into a hotel to read, whilst leaving Prima to look after the others, with my credit card and a can opener in case of emergency, count?