Just finished Henning Mankell’s excellent novel “The Italian Shoes”. Not Wallander, not even crime. A story of a man in his 60s, living on tiny island, lost and losing himself, and what happens when the woman he once loved turns up across the ice, very sick. Beautifully written (and translated, I guess) with lots of thought-provoking images and ideas.

That we lie to ourselves and others all the time – there is no way we can be honest with each other really, so we have to learn to live actively with lies.

That human contact is risky and painful but still preferable to isolation.

That when we think we are ‘lost’, we may just be covered over with lies and decisions not to look at life and the world. Unpeeling the covering layers can reveal something of who we are…