Termush (Faber Editions): 'A classic―stunning, dangerous, darkly beautiful' (Jeff VanderMeer)

Product Information

In the wake of the Covid-19 pandemic, and in a world in which the gap between the poor and the wealthy is ever increasing, Termush feels disconcertingly prophetic. The simplicity of the linear chronology denies Holm the opportunity to fill in any back story and flesh out the characters.

My only consolation is that everything is still so new that what happened can neither be comprehended by reason nor has it yet been able to penetrate the subconscious. The elite residents survived a nuclear holocaust within Termush’s bunkers, emerging to a life in the hotel that seems unaffected by what has happened.In the wake of a global pandemic which has disproportionately hit the poor and the working class while the rich get richer, Holm’s horrifying parable feels like a damningly accurate portrayal of the greed and selfishness of the rich in the face of disaster. It’s a series that puts the spotlight on rediscovered gems from Faber’s archive and beyond, resurrecting radical literary voices who speak to our present.

The book was originally published in the author’s native Denmark in 1967 and translated into English by Sylvia Clayton in 1969. Paranoia and chaos begin to spread more quickly than radiation sickness, as more and more strangers begin appearing, and jeopardising the future of Termush. In fact, the modern relevance of the novella is almost on the nose, with radia Faber Members get access to live and online author events and receive regular e-newsletters with book previews, promotional offers, articles and quizzes.And it’s Holm’s broader themes that make this seem curiously modern, all too familiar in an age of mass migrations and global pandemics, Holm is clearly engaged in political allegory as much as in storytelling.

Set in the aftermath of a nuclear war, in which the rich survivors are holed up in the luxury hotel Termush, the novella expertly portrays both the moral emptiness of the survivors as they turn against those who have survived outside the safety of the hotel, and their increasing discombobulation at living in a world transfigured by the invisible poison of radiation. Not because the sea was changed, but perhaps because in that moment the change in ourselves stood clearly revealed.Guests,’ at Termush exhibit empathy for refugees from the apocalypse and want to help them but not if it jeopardises their own safety. The message came over the hotel’s loudspeaker system, which evidently works so that it can broadcast this type of command even when the individual loudspeakers are switched off. But the further into their living there they get, they begin to see that not everything is quite as they thought they paid for. According to the last radio reports we received in the shelters the entire highway network has been destroyed.