What do you think?
Rate this book
Freezing Down
First time in paperback, International Science Fiction. Copyright 1969, by Anders Bodelsen, English Translation of the Danish copyright 1971 by Harper & Row.
Suffering incurable cancer, Bruno had made his choice 20 years earlier. He'd said yes, freeze me down. Now he was alive again, in a strange new world where it never rained in the daytime and a nurse came every day to make him happy.
Suffering incurable cancer, Bruno had made his choice 20 years earlier. He'd said yes, freeze me down. Now he was alive again, in a strange new world where it never rained in the daytime and a nurse came every day to make him happy.
159 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1969
23 people are currently reading
541 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 66 reviews
December 24, 2025
First published in 1969, Danish author Anders Bodelsen’s dystopian novel often has a terse, noir-ish feel in keeping with his background as a crime writer. Influenced by Patricia Highsmith and inspired by advances in cryogenics, it explores questions of mortality and senescence. It’s focused on the experiences of fiction editor Bruno. It’s 1973 and Bruno’s newly-diagnosed with a life-limiting illness. Then he’s offered a chance to take part in an experiment, he can opt to be frozen then woken up when a cure has been found. Bruno’s isolated existence and lack of family make his candidacy particularly desirable, there’ll be no loose ends to tie up. Bruno is someone who understands his world in terms of plot scenarios real or imagined, now he has to decide what he’d like his own narrative to be. Although the prominence of a record of famous opera ‘mad scenes’ in his apartment suggests his choices may well be ill-omened. Eventually Bruno agrees to accept his doctor’s offer and that’s when his problems really begin.
Bodelsen’s story is reminiscent of the kind of old-school SF exemplified by shows like The Twilight Zone. There are echoes too of work like H.G. Wells’s The Time Machine particularly in plotlines linked to ethics, consumer capitalism, wealth inequality and the structure of future societies. It’s partly the inclusion of these kinds of interrogations that makes the book feel strangely topical, although the gender politics are horribly dated. I found it hard not to compare aspects of Bruno’s situation to contemporary billionaires desperate to prolong their lives and “cure” aging – tech entrepreneur Bryan Johnson being infused with his son’s blood is one such example. Bruno’s plight suggests that fear is the primary driver but many of those working on his particular area of cryogenics are more focused on fulfilling the hubristic desires of the ultra-rich. For Bodelsen, the prospect of immortality is clearly a nightmarish one reflected in the ways in which his disciplined prose is later broken up by a series of fractured, hallucinatory passages. As Bruno’s losses mount up – from memory to the possibility of love to cultural touchstones – the burning question becomes less about survival and more about identity. Who are we once untethered from everything and everyone that formed us? Although the world-building can be frustratingly vague, and the treatment of the women connected to Bruno beyond infuriating, this was a surprisingly gripping read. This Faber edition comes with a foreword by Sophie Mackintosh.
Thanks to Netgalley and Faber Editions for an ARC
Rating: 3/3.5
Bodelsen’s story is reminiscent of the kind of old-school SF exemplified by shows like The Twilight Zone. There are echoes too of work like H.G. Wells’s The Time Machine particularly in plotlines linked to ethics, consumer capitalism, wealth inequality and the structure of future societies. It’s partly the inclusion of these kinds of interrogations that makes the book feel strangely topical, although the gender politics are horribly dated. I found it hard not to compare aspects of Bruno’s situation to contemporary billionaires desperate to prolong their lives and “cure” aging – tech entrepreneur Bryan Johnson being infused with his son’s blood is one such example. Bruno’s plight suggests that fear is the primary driver but many of those working on his particular area of cryogenics are more focused on fulfilling the hubristic desires of the ultra-rich. For Bodelsen, the prospect of immortality is clearly a nightmarish one reflected in the ways in which his disciplined prose is later broken up by a series of fractured, hallucinatory passages. As Bruno’s losses mount up – from memory to the possibility of love to cultural touchstones – the burning question becomes less about survival and more about identity. Who are we once untethered from everything and everyone that formed us? Although the world-building can be frustratingly vague, and the treatment of the women connected to Bruno beyond infuriating, this was a surprisingly gripping read. This Faber edition comes with a foreword by Sophie Mackintosh.
Thanks to Netgalley and Faber Editions for an ARC
Rating: 3/3.5
November 12, 2025
Bruno, a fiction editor for a magazine - who comes up with the ideas for his writers, finds out that he is dying. He agreed to be frozen, and woken up at a future date when his illness can be cured. When he wakes up in 1995, society has completely changed. At this point in the story there are some interesting concepts about the way this new society is run, and the new values, that could have been explored, They aren't though, and the novel just petered out, (or at least, my interest in it did. Also, most of the female characters may as well have been inflatable dolls. It was a short read, but I didn't think it reached its potential. I'm sure this is an idea that other writers have had more success with.
*Many thanks to Netgally and the publishers for a copy in exchange for an honest opinion.*
*Many thanks to Netgally and the publishers for a copy in exchange for an honest opinion.*
December 17, 2025
This was amazing, it is a Danish novel from the 70s about a young man who is diagnosed with cancer. He is given the choice between a natural death, or being frozen so that they can wake him up in 20 years time when there is a cure for his cancer. He decides to be frozen and wakes up in both the 1990s and 2000s. The worlds he wakes up into are really sinister and the way science has developed to the point where people's bodies are for sale and people live off mortgaging their own organs was crazy. I loved how it experimented with the possibility of how the function and value of bodies will change in the future and what the cost of physical health will boil down to.
The writing and characters were great also. I sometimes struggle with reading new translations of older fiction but this was really fascinating. I would recommend it if you are a fan of science fiction and want something creepy to make you think.
The writing and characters were great also. I sometimes struggle with reading new translations of older fiction but this was really fascinating. I would recommend it if you are a fan of science fiction and want something creepy to make you think.
March 3, 2020
Full review: https://sciencefictionruminations.com...
"Anders Bodelsen’s Freezing Down (1969, trans. 1971) is a harrowing collision of SF tropes and the emotional landscape of Scandinavian noir. Bodelsen, “primarily associated with 1960s New-Realism in Danish literature,” might be best known to English-speaking audiences for writing the source material for the 1978 heist film The Silent Partner, starring Christopher Plummer and Elliott Gould.
Freezing Down, Bodelsen’s lone [...]"
"Anders Bodelsen’s Freezing Down (1969, trans. 1971) is a harrowing collision of SF tropes and the emotional landscape of Scandinavian noir. Bodelsen, “primarily associated with 1960s New-Realism in Danish literature,” might be best known to English-speaking audiences for writing the source material for the 1978 heist film The Silent Partner, starring Christopher Plummer and Elliott Gould.
Freezing Down, Bodelsen’s lone [...]"
December 1, 2009
All of the superfluous words have been pared from this novel. At 159 pages, it was tight, well-paced, and carefully worded. The effort taken was well worth it. Bruno's disconnection from the peculiar new society in which he wakes is believable and empathetic. The sly wit in the book was delightful - the narrator cheekily breaking the fourth wall made me laugh. Very, very well done. I'm glad I snagged this from the shelf.
December 27, 2025
"Get a hold of yourself. For other people's sake, if not for your own. You don't own yourself any longer. Society owns you. Had it not been for society, you would not be lying here now."
Very original take on a classic dystopian theme of eternal life and cryogenic freezing. The usual question of “Given a chance, would one want to live forever?” Is being examined from a very interesting aspect, and that is not focusing not on the eternal life itself, but the quality of life and what exactly constitutes “living”.
The most interesting take though is the one on humanity itself and how fast it changes with medical progress and how things such as world hunger or climate change can be solved, not when there is a crisis, but where there is an opportunity for select few to benefit off of Earth’s future. Basically keeping the Earth for future generations was never gonna work for people to act and save it, but saving it for our future selves can suddenly solve all the humanity’s issue over 20 years and brings the problems of society to more philosophical level.
Monetizing eternal life seems to dominate as a topic of the book and author’s perception of the future, seeing it as a natural continuation of late stage capitalism. There is still a working class and the rich, however the only resource anyone seems to care about is life itself, and money to finance it. This division of social classes is typical for novels of such topic, however it’s interested how it’s always presented fully only from one side and you only paint the objective picture for yourself from the background information.
The whole story is actually written from single player pov - we don’t really hear full story as that clearly wasn’t the author’s intent, we only see the main character’s experience and just like him we are not meant to know everything.
However what is left when the only thing people care about is eternal life? For the main character it’s simple - it’s human connection. It’s interesting how probably in that era when the book was written (1969) the author already noticed the move away from real life connection towards the technology, and really predicted that by 2022 having real human contact, emotions or love will be much harder to achieve, and will be considered more old-school. Though over exaggerated, almost 55 years later, the point still stands.
I would personally appreciate a bit more world building, because 1973 felt spot on, whilst 1996 and 2022 didn’t really feel like anything. I understand that was somehow also the point, but it felt kinda rushed and limited in the imagination. Also it didn’t feel extremely original and there was very weak relationship building between the reader and the main character so I didn’t care that much. Although the ending got quite emotional tbh.
But overall, it’s a nice short, and quite impactful book so I would say like solid 4⭐️
“He kissed her again and it really did seem as if he were kissing a doll. They had done something to her, or she must always have been like that. Did he know her at all, or had she just been his pretext for demanding his eternity?”
Very original take on a classic dystopian theme of eternal life and cryogenic freezing. The usual question of “Given a chance, would one want to live forever?” Is being examined from a very interesting aspect, and that is not focusing not on the eternal life itself, but the quality of life and what exactly constitutes “living”.
The most interesting take though is the one on humanity itself and how fast it changes with medical progress and how things such as world hunger or climate change can be solved, not when there is a crisis, but where there is an opportunity for select few to benefit off of Earth’s future. Basically keeping the Earth for future generations was never gonna work for people to act and save it, but saving it for our future selves can suddenly solve all the humanity’s issue over 20 years and brings the problems of society to more philosophical level.
Monetizing eternal life seems to dominate as a topic of the book and author’s perception of the future, seeing it as a natural continuation of late stage capitalism. There is still a working class and the rich, however the only resource anyone seems to care about is life itself, and money to finance it. This division of social classes is typical for novels of such topic, however it’s interested how it’s always presented fully only from one side and you only paint the objective picture for yourself from the background information.
The whole story is actually written from single player pov - we don’t really hear full story as that clearly wasn’t the author’s intent, we only see the main character’s experience and just like him we are not meant to know everything.
However what is left when the only thing people care about is eternal life? For the main character it’s simple - it’s human connection. It’s interesting how probably in that era when the book was written (1969) the author already noticed the move away from real life connection towards the technology, and really predicted that by 2022 having real human contact, emotions or love will be much harder to achieve, and will be considered more old-school. Though over exaggerated, almost 55 years later, the point still stands.
I would personally appreciate a bit more world building, because 1973 felt spot on, whilst 1996 and 2022 didn’t really feel like anything. I understand that was somehow also the point, but it felt kinda rushed and limited in the imagination. Also it didn’t feel extremely original and there was very weak relationship building between the reader and the main character so I didn’t care that much. Although the ending got quite emotional tbh.
But overall, it’s a nice short, and quite impactful book so I would say like solid 4⭐️
“He kissed her again and it really did seem as if he were kissing a doll. They had done something to her, or she must always have been like that. Did he know her at all, or had she just been his pretext for demanding his eternity?”
November 4, 2025
2.5 the premise is interesting, there is humour to it and it’s readable but it never really develops anything. Felt lazy. I would give it more if there was any woman character whose sole purpose was not just ‘letting herself’ be fucked by the main character.
January 25, 2020
This is a well-constructed and literary book from the late ‘60s centered around the development of cryogenic technology able to suspend human life for decades. It explores the ramifications of a person putting him- or herself in the hands of the medical establishment in hopes of ultimately increasing lifespan. Our main character is only loosely tied to society at the start of the book, so elects to undergo the “freezing down” procedure as a guinea pig. Results are creepy, as you might imagine, and society changes greatly while he is "down." Any more details would just spoil the strangeness for future readers. Spare prose, dark comedy, dreamlike and surreal—I liked it.
December 31, 2025
Yet another excellent novel in the Faber Editions series of rediscovered novels.
I really enjoyed this slightly dystopian look into the future. Or, more correctly, a look into the present. The book was first published in Danish in 1969. The central character, Bruno, is diagnosed with an aggressive and incurable cancer and is offered the chance to be frozen and the “defrosted” when a cure is available. The first section of the book is set in 1973, slightly in the future from the original publication date, and then in 1995 when Bruno has to start readjusting to a different world. Then there is a final section set in 2022. Bodelsen was trying to foresee a world some twenty-five and then fifty years in the future.
What makes the novel interesting is the way it can work for us now on two levels. First as a rejection of the idea of cryogenics, and the way the subjects involved in these experiments can rebel against them, and then on an almost unintended level of how well the author was able to predict the future.
The central character Bruno is a magazine editor, whose role is partly to have ideas for stories which he shares with a variety of writers in the hope they will turn them into great stories. Just before Bruno receives his diagnosis he meets a young ballerina, Jenny Holländer, whom he is attracted to. He visits her again the day before he is to be frozen, and they make love, but he doesn’t tell her what is about to happen. Twenty-two years later when he is revived and cured, he discovers that she became a very famous ballerina but then suffered a terrible career ending injury to her spine and was also frozen. Bruno is allowed to see her in her frozen state and then begs his medical team to be frozen a second time so that his return can coincide with hers. They do eventually meet in 2022, when she is trying to adjust to a life with a new spine. On that level there is also a love story.
Some of the predictions about the world in 1995 were interesting because they are things we see now. Self-driving cars for example, and wide screen televisions that fill a whole wall. Other elements are more hinted at, such as a breakdown in society between those that can afford to be frozen and given an almost eternal life, and those that sell parts of their bodies to finance their future and give life to others. It was interesting to see Bodelsen predict a future where much of the world consisted of medical professional, all intent on preserving life longer and longer. The very first human heart transplant was performed in 1967, and I guess that may have inspired the author to consider what else might be possible. His future seems to be able to supply all manner of transplants.
I enjoyed this paragraph as Bruno is given an injection as he is told about the seriousness of his condition:
As he weighs up his future options, Bruno’s career as an editor and storyteller becomes more obvious:
Not everything in the lives of the patients is going to plan. Some of those who are brought back to life will rebel against it – Bruno himself is fond of throwing things at windows he cannot see through, or be allowed to see through. Patients are kept ignorant of events in the outside world, about exactly what has changed and what still exists. Bruno keeps asking if weekly magazines still exist and being fobbed off with vague answers. There are very few cars on the roads, and Bruno never sees children when he is allowed to venture outside the medical centre in which he is ‘kept’. The troubles of the outside world are hinted at, but not fully examined.
Very enjoyable, easy to read and at the same time thought provoking.
I really enjoyed this slightly dystopian look into the future. Or, more correctly, a look into the present. The book was first published in Danish in 1969. The central character, Bruno, is diagnosed with an aggressive and incurable cancer and is offered the chance to be frozen and the “defrosted” when a cure is available. The first section of the book is set in 1973, slightly in the future from the original publication date, and then in 1995 when Bruno has to start readjusting to a different world. Then there is a final section set in 2022. Bodelsen was trying to foresee a world some twenty-five and then fifty years in the future.
What makes the novel interesting is the way it can work for us now on two levels. First as a rejection of the idea of cryogenics, and the way the subjects involved in these experiments can rebel against them, and then on an almost unintended level of how well the author was able to predict the future.
The central character Bruno is a magazine editor, whose role is partly to have ideas for stories which he shares with a variety of writers in the hope they will turn them into great stories. Just before Bruno receives his diagnosis he meets a young ballerina, Jenny Holländer, whom he is attracted to. He visits her again the day before he is to be frozen, and they make love, but he doesn’t tell her what is about to happen. Twenty-two years later when he is revived and cured, he discovers that she became a very famous ballerina but then suffered a terrible career ending injury to her spine and was also frozen. Bruno is allowed to see her in her frozen state and then begs his medical team to be frozen a second time so that his return can coincide with hers. They do eventually meet in 2022, when she is trying to adjust to a life with a new spine. On that level there is also a love story.
Some of the predictions about the world in 1995 were interesting because they are things we see now. Self-driving cars for example, and wide screen televisions that fill a whole wall. Other elements are more hinted at, such as a breakdown in society between those that can afford to be frozen and given an almost eternal life, and those that sell parts of their bodies to finance their future and give life to others. It was interesting to see Bodelsen predict a future where much of the world consisted of medical professional, all intent on preserving life longer and longer. The very first human heart transplant was performed in 1967, and I guess that may have inspired the author to consider what else might be possible. His future seems to be able to supply all manner of transplants.
I enjoyed this paragraph as Bruno is given an injection as he is told about the seriousness of his condition:
The injection was already beginning to work. Bruno had a strange feeling that he was being transformed from the first-person to the third, a person he could look at or read about.
As he weighs up his future options, Bruno’s career as an editor and storyteller becomes more obvious:
A man who is going to die, who is given two alternatives: that he should live for a while and write his story; or die, wake up again and hope that there would be even better stories to be told. Should one live the time one is allowed and get a good story out of it? How, in all the merciless details, was the freezing process carried out, and then the thawing>Would not other people have been thawed out before him and already told the story better than he could hope to – one of his better authors, and without his help, his helpful phone calls and letters?
Not everything in the lives of the patients is going to plan. Some of those who are brought back to life will rebel against it – Bruno himself is fond of throwing things at windows he cannot see through, or be allowed to see through. Patients are kept ignorant of events in the outside world, about exactly what has changed and what still exists. Bruno keeps asking if weekly magazines still exist and being fobbed off with vague answers. There are very few cars on the roads, and Bruno never sees children when he is allowed to venture outside the medical centre in which he is ‘kept’. The troubles of the outside world are hinted at, but not fully examined.
Very enjoyable, easy to read and at the same time thought provoking.
December 9, 2025
When 32-year-old magazine editor Bruno goes to his doctor about a lump on his neck, he doesn’t expect to be the perfect candidate for an experimental treatment that sees him frozen down for 20 years. By the time he reemerges his cancer — then incurable — will be cured.
Bruno comes to in 1995 but the slithers of the world he can grasp are a far reach from the distant comfort of 1973. He is not allowed to listen to music or read the magazines he once enjoyed, or speak to anyone outside of the facility. Prolonging life is now the only priority, and society has buckled under the promise of sustaining it — but for what purpose is unclear.
Despite only knowing her for a few days in his past life of sorts, Bruno wishes to track down a ballet dancer named Jenny. However, he discovers that his autonomy is no longer an option.
This is a truly chilling dystopian with an ending that made me twitch. It made me think about all the techbros who wish to prolong their life in the most soulless sense when most of that time could be while frozen down potentially still conscious. The thought of squandering real connection in return for a future that’s unrecognisable where you can’t even understand the language is haunting. It’s not even karmic for someone like Bruno who made the decision over dying young, and falsely believing he would still have full control over his body and pursuit of pleasure.
There was some dark comic relief throughout the book, particularly Bruno’s kidneys being removed and then replaced while he was down due to a shortage and then surplus.
This is rightly described as a lost classic, originally published in 1969 but now reissued with an introduction from Sophie Mackintosh, an author whose work I adore. If you’re a fan of hers, Jacqueline Harpman, or other dystopian fiction then I highly recommend Freezing Point too.
Thank you to the publisher for the copy!
Bruno comes to in 1995 but the slithers of the world he can grasp are a far reach from the distant comfort of 1973. He is not allowed to listen to music or read the magazines he once enjoyed, or speak to anyone outside of the facility. Prolonging life is now the only priority, and society has buckled under the promise of sustaining it — but for what purpose is unclear.
Despite only knowing her for a few days in his past life of sorts, Bruno wishes to track down a ballet dancer named Jenny. However, he discovers that his autonomy is no longer an option.
This is a truly chilling dystopian with an ending that made me twitch. It made me think about all the techbros who wish to prolong their life in the most soulless sense when most of that time could be while frozen down potentially still conscious. The thought of squandering real connection in return for a future that’s unrecognisable where you can’t even understand the language is haunting. It’s not even karmic for someone like Bruno who made the decision over dying young, and falsely believing he would still have full control over his body and pursuit of pleasure.
There was some dark comic relief throughout the book, particularly Bruno’s kidneys being removed and then replaced while he was down due to a shortage and then surplus.
This is rightly described as a lost classic, originally published in 1969 but now reissued with an introduction from Sophie Mackintosh, an author whose work I adore. If you’re a fan of hers, Jacqueline Harpman, or other dystopian fiction then I highly recommend Freezing Point too.
Thank you to the publisher for the copy!
December 4, 2025
Eerie and chilling! A great sci-fi about future medical advances and humans solving death 💀
What shines in this dystopia is how grounded it is -- the reader is given glimpses into the outside worlds, but - much like the main character - we are mostly confined to the hospital center, which goes a long way establishing the wrongness, uncanny valley vibe. The prose matches Bruno's experience very well and as such he is a very understandable and sympathetic character.
Pretty decent social commentary, even for a decades old story. One particularly compelling passage comes to mind where Bruno asks if various social problems are solved and is answered that they're not solved, just no longer of importance due to humanity's focus on eternity. I thought the 1995 section had some weakness surrounding the types of life and lost my suspension of disbelief a bit, but generally a good skin-crawler in terms of freaky medicalisms here. Overall a worthwhile read.
Thank you NetGalley for ARC!
What shines in this dystopia is how grounded it is -- the reader is given glimpses into the outside worlds, but - much like the main character - we are mostly confined to the hospital center, which goes a long way establishing the wrongness, uncanny valley vibe. The prose matches Bruno's experience very well and as such he is a very understandable and sympathetic character.
Pretty decent social commentary, even for a decades old story. One particularly compelling passage comes to mind where Bruno asks if various social problems are solved and is answered that they're not solved, just no longer of importance due to humanity's focus on eternity. I thought the 1995 section had some weakness surrounding the types of life and lost my suspension of disbelief a bit, but generally a good skin-crawler in terms of freaky medicalisms here. Overall a worthwhile read.
Thank you NetGalley for ARC!
December 11, 2025
3.5 stars.
Really enjoyed the exploration of eternal life and the idea of cryogenics to keep someone alive until a cure is found. I think this would have received a higher rating if we learnt more about the world outside of Bruno’s limited space in the Centre and, therefore, his incredibly limited understanding. It doesn’t help that one of his main doctors is a senile man in a young body, giving us very little information (but maybe that’s the point?). You see the changes from the 1970s, 1990s and 2022 subtly through the word choices and the implementation of a brand new language, but besides that I was left wanting a little more from this.
Really enjoyed the exploration of eternal life and the idea of cryogenics to keep someone alive until a cure is found. I think this would have received a higher rating if we learnt more about the world outside of Bruno’s limited space in the Centre and, therefore, his incredibly limited understanding. It doesn’t help that one of his main doctors is a senile man in a young body, giving us very little information (but maybe that’s the point?). You see the changes from the 1970s, 1990s and 2022 subtly through the word choices and the implementation of a brand new language, but besides that I was left wanting a little more from this.
November 9, 2025
3.5 didn't expect to really like this but I was gripped. the dystopia setting, medical horror, slip of sanity, societal collapse. it snowballed unnervingly, pinned together by under-themes of love, writing, purpose and the privilege/fear of aging. would make an excellent book club read!
February 26, 2025
Glimrende og skræmmende dystopi om en verden, hvor man ikke får lov at blive gammel. Alt kan udskiftes eller man kan bare blive frosset ned til man kan fixes. Tidløs historie!
December 27, 2025
Tell you what, cryogenics seem bad
June 5, 2025
4/5
Probably the first truly forgotten (and unknown to me) piece of SF that I've read which surprised me with its delicacy and complexity. Dark, suffocating, and Kafkaesque in its vision, this is right up my alley, and something I think should've been better remembered within the genre.
We follow a pulp magazine editor named Bruno who is deeply unsatisfied with his life and legacy when he discovers a lump on his throat while shaving. Doctors diagnose him with an incurable form of cancer, but offer him a way out as a test subject in a first of it's kind cryogenic freezing technology. Despite his newly budding relationship with a ballet dancer, Bruno takes the plunge and is 'frozen down' in the hopes that he can be unfrozen at some unknown point in the future when his form of cancer can be cured. The rest of the novel follows Bruno as he is awakened at several points in the future, as his control over his life slowly slips through his fingers, and as society becomes ever more mysterious and obfuscated through windows that are further and further away.
My only main point of criticism falls on the translation itself. Far too many times it felt as though the translator tried to find the most literal translation of a word possible without stopping to think about the spirit of the text and trying to find something that fit the purpose of the word better. As a consequence I sometimes found the prose to be oddly stilted and detached. It's annoying to be unsure if this was what Bodelsen meant it to be, or if this is an artifact of the translator.
Despite stumbling over the prose I really enjoyed this novel. Perhaps though 'enjoyed' isn't the best word, because the contents are deeply uncomfortable and depressing. Bruno is obsessed with his own legacy, and perhaps correctly assumes that with his current career he will be forgotten quickly. He grasps at ideas for a novel he will never write, and hopes that in the future he will find it easier to think of something. Instead of living his life in the present, Bruno is convinced to postpone life for greener pastures in another time. In do so, Bruno is caught up in the cogs of the medical machine, unable to escape the treadmill of experimentation to live a life of his own agency. Tragic and eerie, Bruno's half-life within the walls of the hospital is gruesome to watch.
Not only is Bruno's life grim, but the society that surrounds him is increasingly collapsing just outside his vision. The success of cryogenics has made the structure of society completely subservient to the mere idea of immortality. The vast majority of humans are frozen down, so much so that there is a lack of humans awake to provide basic services and functions. Bruno eventually finds that even the doctors themselves are unreliable, worn down by their own creation. I love the tone that Bodelsen strikes here.
Is it groundbreaking? Perhaps not, but I found it really compelling and well executed. Worthy of a place it hasn't been afforded.
Probably the first truly forgotten (and unknown to me) piece of SF that I've read which surprised me with its delicacy and complexity. Dark, suffocating, and Kafkaesque in its vision, this is right up my alley, and something I think should've been better remembered within the genre.
We follow a pulp magazine editor named Bruno who is deeply unsatisfied with his life and legacy when he discovers a lump on his throat while shaving. Doctors diagnose him with an incurable form of cancer, but offer him a way out as a test subject in a first of it's kind cryogenic freezing technology. Despite his newly budding relationship with a ballet dancer, Bruno takes the plunge and is 'frozen down' in the hopes that he can be unfrozen at some unknown point in the future when his form of cancer can be cured. The rest of the novel follows Bruno as he is awakened at several points in the future, as his control over his life slowly slips through his fingers, and as society becomes ever more mysterious and obfuscated through windows that are further and further away.
My only main point of criticism falls on the translation itself. Far too many times it felt as though the translator tried to find the most literal translation of a word possible without stopping to think about the spirit of the text and trying to find something that fit the purpose of the word better. As a consequence I sometimes found the prose to be oddly stilted and detached. It's annoying to be unsure if this was what Bodelsen meant it to be, or if this is an artifact of the translator.
Despite stumbling over the prose I really enjoyed this novel. Perhaps though 'enjoyed' isn't the best word, because the contents are deeply uncomfortable and depressing. Bruno is obsessed with his own legacy, and perhaps correctly assumes that with his current career he will be forgotten quickly. He grasps at ideas for a novel he will never write, and hopes that in the future he will find it easier to think of something. Instead of living his life in the present, Bruno is convinced to postpone life for greener pastures in another time. In do so, Bruno is caught up in the cogs of the medical machine, unable to escape the treadmill of experimentation to live a life of his own agency. Tragic and eerie, Bruno's half-life within the walls of the hospital is gruesome to watch.
Not only is Bruno's life grim, but the society that surrounds him is increasingly collapsing just outside his vision. The success of cryogenics has made the structure of society completely subservient to the mere idea of immortality. The vast majority of humans are frozen down, so much so that there is a lack of humans awake to provide basic services and functions. Bruno eventually finds that even the doctors themselves are unreliable, worn down by their own creation. I love the tone that Bodelsen strikes here.
Is it groundbreaking? Perhaps not, but I found it really compelling and well executed. Worthy of a place it hasn't been afforded.
December 10, 2025
Freezing Point is a really classic dystopian novel - a book that could have easily been written by anyone in the present day rather than in 1969.
Goes into the ethical implications of medical care, death and the progression of this over time. Bruno is likeable and the plot progresses quickly.
I felt the romantic relationships in the book lacked nuance, and the book struggled to keep pace in second half.
This book was provided for review by Faber & Faber via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
Goes into the ethical implications of medical care, death and the progression of this over time. Bruno is likeable and the plot progresses quickly.
I felt the romantic relationships in the book lacked nuance, and the book struggled to keep pace in second half.
This book was provided for review by Faber & Faber via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
December 30, 2025
Thanks to NetGalley for my free ARC!
Freezing Point is a terrifying look into an old subject: the price of immortality. Despite this tried and true theme - and the fact that the book is concerned with cryogenic freezing, the idea of which has somewhat fallen out of fashion in both fiction and real life - the book doesn't feel like it lacks any punch. Its central question: what are you living for if all you pursue is a longer life? - is just as relevant in today's world of wellness influencer scams and 5 am ice water facials as it was in 1969 when Freezing Point was first published. This is handily drawn attention to in an excellent new foreword written by Sophie Mackintosh.
In the novel, magazine editor Bruno discovers he has life-threatening cancer and decides to undergo cryogenic freezing in the hopes of being woken one day in the future when the disease can be cured. In this, medicine succeeds - but in a way, Bruno never manages to make it back to the 'real world,' either the form in which it is when he wakes in 1995 and 2022, or the world he expected when he went to sleep. So much has changed that all the touchstones Bruno had in his old life - his job, music, magazines, literature - have no meaning for him anymore, or have no meaning for the people of this new world, so they no longer exist. Much like the protagonist of Joe Haldeman's The Forever War, Bruno wakes up to a world that has moved on without him, in which he can't find his place. Or, more to the point, it seems no one around him is willing to let him find his place - their obsession with immortality, with deciding between living for now or working hard for a life in the future, is so all-consuming that they can't accept that he has no desire to make such a decision. The sad reality of Freezing Point is that, while Bruno may have survived the cancer in body, for his life, the disease was indeed terminal. He never manages to escape from the labyrinth of the hospital, once they have their claws in him; as surely as anyone else, the quest for immortality drags him down.
I think this book really hit home for me because it explores one of my biggest fears: being kept in a hospital room and not given any information about my condition, being 'looked after' without having any of my treatment explained to me. This is the action around which much of the novel revolves: Bruno is kept in various treatment centres and not given all the information he needs because it will supposedly be 'too much for him.' There's a very well-paced, growing horror throughout the book as Bruno begins to realise that, far from keeping information from him for the sake of his mental health, the people in charge of his care are keeping things from him with ulterior motives. They desperately want to mould him into one of them, into someone who will be useful for society, who will work for them, for immorality, without question, as they do. Bruno continually voices the audience's perspective, demanding to know more about this world, and is placed in increasingly more powerless positions. The increasing loss of autonomy he experiences at the end of the novel - going from being able to meet with his beloved Jenny to being strapped to a bed and fed through a tube - is particularly chilling (no pun intended).
There are so many little details that lend this book a kind of creeping, slow horror (like ice slowly freezing?). The covering and uncovering of the windows in Bruno's room - and the fact that he never truly gets a window he can actually open, always being enclosed and trapped - was one great detail. The fact that there are no windows in the hospital in 2022 - no way of knowing what's going on, the action of the narrative stripped down to its most fundamental truth, the freezing 'up and down,' - was really chilling. The lights consistently going on and off in the 2022 section, and the way Ackermann kept making a joke of it, and the fact that we never really got an answer for why - never got an answer for who the people in yellow coats were, either, aside from what Bruno imagined about them - added to the sense of disconnection from the world that pervaded the novel. Bodelsen created such a creeping sense of dread as you got deeper and deeper into the novel and realised how hopeless Bruno's situation was becoming - culminating, of course, with Bruno himself recognising this and wanting to end his own life, and in the end being denied even that level of autonomy.
I have to admit I wasn't 100% sure what the point of the side plot with Jenny and her and Bruno's child was. It heavily affected the narrative, as the reason Bruno chose to go back 'down' rather than stay in 1995, but like many of the characters in the novel, I wasn't entirely sure what was so special about Jenny or what exactly Bruno saw in her. He seems to have almost imagined himself in love with her - and the way their story ends, with her just rejecting him, makes the whole thing seem pointless. I'm not entirely sure what Bodelsen was trying to say with the whole thing, or what its thematic point was? It seems like the reader is meant to just understand that, of course, Bruno is in love, because Jenny is a beautiful woman. To me, that's some peak Male Het Writing xD
Aside from that, I had no complaints about Freezing Point. The book is short, but it packs an incredible punch into its runtime. I still feel haunted by the final image: Bruno constantly reliving the same loop in his memories, probably not even an hour long. While most people have rightfully picked up on the themes of immortality and its fruitlessness, the horror of the medical malpractice angle haunts me after finishing Freezing Point. Bruno took a chance because his doctor assured him it would be the best thing, because he trusted his medical providers and the system - and he was paid back with a lifetime of agony. Unfortunately, that's still an all-too-relatable story in our modern world.
Freezing Point is a terrifying look into an old subject: the price of immortality. Despite this tried and true theme - and the fact that the book is concerned with cryogenic freezing, the idea of which has somewhat fallen out of fashion in both fiction and real life - the book doesn't feel like it lacks any punch. Its central question: what are you living for if all you pursue is a longer life? - is just as relevant in today's world of wellness influencer scams and 5 am ice water facials as it was in 1969 when Freezing Point was first published. This is handily drawn attention to in an excellent new foreword written by Sophie Mackintosh.
In the novel, magazine editor Bruno discovers he has life-threatening cancer and decides to undergo cryogenic freezing in the hopes of being woken one day in the future when the disease can be cured. In this, medicine succeeds - but in a way, Bruno never manages to make it back to the 'real world,' either the form in which it is when he wakes in 1995 and 2022, or the world he expected when he went to sleep. So much has changed that all the touchstones Bruno had in his old life - his job, music, magazines, literature - have no meaning for him anymore, or have no meaning for the people of this new world, so they no longer exist. Much like the protagonist of Joe Haldeman's The Forever War, Bruno wakes up to a world that has moved on without him, in which he can't find his place. Or, more to the point, it seems no one around him is willing to let him find his place - their obsession with immortality, with deciding between living for now or working hard for a life in the future, is so all-consuming that they can't accept that he has no desire to make such a decision. The sad reality of Freezing Point is that, while Bruno may have survived the cancer in body, for his life, the disease was indeed terminal. He never manages to escape from the labyrinth of the hospital, once they have their claws in him; as surely as anyone else, the quest for immortality drags him down.
I think this book really hit home for me because it explores one of my biggest fears: being kept in a hospital room and not given any information about my condition, being 'looked after' without having any of my treatment explained to me. This is the action around which much of the novel revolves: Bruno is kept in various treatment centres and not given all the information he needs because it will supposedly be 'too much for him.' There's a very well-paced, growing horror throughout the book as Bruno begins to realise that, far from keeping information from him for the sake of his mental health, the people in charge of his care are keeping things from him with ulterior motives. They desperately want to mould him into one of them, into someone who will be useful for society, who will work for them, for immorality, without question, as they do. Bruno continually voices the audience's perspective, demanding to know more about this world, and is placed in increasingly more powerless positions. The increasing loss of autonomy he experiences at the end of the novel - going from being able to meet with his beloved Jenny to being strapped to a bed and fed through a tube - is particularly chilling (no pun intended).
There are so many little details that lend this book a kind of creeping, slow horror (like ice slowly freezing?). The covering and uncovering of the windows in Bruno's room - and the fact that he never truly gets a window he can actually open, always being enclosed and trapped - was one great detail. The fact that there are no windows in the hospital in 2022 - no way of knowing what's going on, the action of the narrative stripped down to its most fundamental truth, the freezing 'up and down,' - was really chilling. The lights consistently going on and off in the 2022 section, and the way Ackermann kept making a joke of it, and the fact that we never really got an answer for why - never got an answer for who the people in yellow coats were, either, aside from what Bruno imagined about them - added to the sense of disconnection from the world that pervaded the novel. Bodelsen created such a creeping sense of dread as you got deeper and deeper into the novel and realised how hopeless Bruno's situation was becoming - culminating, of course, with Bruno himself recognising this and wanting to end his own life, and in the end being denied even that level of autonomy.
I have to admit I wasn't 100% sure what the point of the side plot with Jenny and her and Bruno's child was. It heavily affected the narrative, as the reason Bruno chose to go back 'down' rather than stay in 1995, but like many of the characters in the novel, I wasn't entirely sure what was so special about Jenny or what exactly Bruno saw in her. He seems to have almost imagined himself in love with her - and the way their story ends, with her just rejecting him, makes the whole thing seem pointless. I'm not entirely sure what Bodelsen was trying to say with the whole thing, or what its thematic point was? It seems like the reader is meant to just understand that, of course, Bruno is in love, because Jenny is a beautiful woman. To me, that's some peak Male Het Writing xD
Aside from that, I had no complaints about Freezing Point. The book is short, but it packs an incredible punch into its runtime. I still feel haunted by the final image: Bruno constantly reliving the same loop in his memories, probably not even an hour long. While most people have rightfully picked up on the themes of immortality and its fruitlessness, the horror of the medical malpractice angle haunts me after finishing Freezing Point. Bruno took a chance because his doctor assured him it would be the best thing, because he trusted his medical providers and the system - and he was paid back with a lifetime of agony. Unfortunately, that's still an all-too-relatable story in our modern world.
June 12, 2020
A science fiction story in line with the stories from the second half of the 20th century. Written in Danish in 1969, the story is set in ‘the near future’. The novel starts in 1975 and after a while, makes a leap to 1995 and finishes in 2022. For the author this must have seemed like the far away future. For a reader in 2020 it is of course the near. It is not a strong story at all, but the atmosphere created is typical for the period in which Bodelsen wrote the book. The prejudices of the time are very tangible in the book. Even sixty years in the future, it seems obvious that doctors are men and nurses are women. For that reason alone, it makes sense to reread these old works. Times change and what is now taken for granted may become absurd in the future.
Read in Dutch translation.
Read in Dutch translation.
January 4, 2015
eine übersichtliche erzählung, die eine düstere vision beschreibt: einfrierungen von kranken menschen ist möglich und bruno wird wegen eines 1973 noch unheilbaren krebsleidens in den kälteschlaf versetzt, um 22 jahre später in eine völlig veränderte gegenwart aufzuwachen.
die geschichte ist stofflich schön erzählt, beschreibt die zukunftsvision einerseits greifbar, andererseits aber mit zu wenig schwung. aus der idee könnte ein viel umfangreicheres buch gemacht werden, so bleibt es mehr das substrat einer idee, aber einer sehr guten, und man hat dadurch ein wenig das gefühl als ob der protagonist des buches, der 1973 noch den job hat, geschichtenplots zu erfinden, dann doch ein buch aus seinem leben gemacht hat.
die geschichte ist stofflich schön erzählt, beschreibt die zukunftsvision einerseits greifbar, andererseits aber mit zu wenig schwung. aus der idee könnte ein viel umfangreicheres buch gemacht werden, so bleibt es mehr das substrat einer idee, aber einer sehr guten, und man hat dadurch ein wenig das gefühl als ob der protagonist des buches, der 1973 noch den job hat, geschichtenplots zu erfinden, dann doch ein buch aus seinem leben gemacht hat.
July 4, 2016
I loved the world that was created but I disliked that we hardly get to explore it, and the ending was subpar but at under 200 pages these are common complaints, I just feel that if it was made to just intrigue you then it should have just been a short story and the effect would have been better.
March 10, 2012
Interesting premise. Pushed it a little too hard, and vaguely surreal wrap up didn't quite work (IMHO)
March 23, 2023
One of the first science fiction books I ever read. I really liked it in 6th grade school back in the 1970’s. Probably gave me the initial desire and enjoyment of reading the sci-fi genre.
October 6, 2025
January, 1973. Bruno is shaving when his razor meets a lump and he cuts himself. He realizes that he noticed the lump recently, but it's grown larger. He sees the doctor, who says there's probably nothing to worry about but wants to do tests. Turns out there is something to worry about. Bruno has an untreatable form of cancer. But the doctor has a proposition for Bruno. He could choose to be frozen until such time as a cure is found, which the doctor thinks will be in 10 or 15 years. Bruno has a few days to decide. At first he's not sure what to do, but he suddenly decides to do it and wants it done quickly. When he comes back to consciousness, it's 1995. His cancer is gone and he is physically healthy, but society has changed so much during the time he's been frozen that his problems are just beginning. It's not a matter of simply starting his life from where he left off but without being sick. The world is different and as Bruno learns bit by bit what it's like now, he quickly learns he doesn't like it. But he's owned by society now and what can he do about it?
This book, although written over half a century ago, has so many resonances with the world today. As I was reading I kept thinking about people who have plastic surgery over and over again to try to look young and the people who want to live forever in some form. These are not new ideas of course, just the methods change as the available technology changes. When Bruno is offered the choice between living out whatever time he has left and being frozen so he can wake up cancer-free and pick up his life where he left off, he doesn't really give it that much thought. Would it have mattered if he did? Could he have even imagined the kind of world he'd come back to? Would he have been able to grasp that his status as a 'guinea pig' for this technology would cost him something in the end? Would he have gotten to the point where he'd consider the difference between extending an existence indefinitely and living a life? Whether he would've gotten to these questions before he was frozen or not, he was certainly faced with them when he was brought back to consciousness.
The book is extremely well written. I was hooked from the very beginning. Bodelsen creates a cold atmosphere throughout. The book starts in January, so we're cold from the start. Bruno has a recurring thought/memory of a time when he went skating with friends and realized that he was on thin ice, which was cracking all around him as he desperately tried to get back to shore. He doesn't have any close relationships, and seems a bit detached from others. When he's brought back from his frozen state, the environment he's in is sterile and cold--not in terms of temperature, but in terms of human connection and warmth. As reality slowly dawns on him, he struggles to make sense of his situation and to change it. Does he succeed? I'll leave it to readers to find out for themselves. I thoroughly enjoyed this excellent book and highly recommend it.
Thanks to NetGalley and Faber and Faber for a digital review copy.
This book, although written over half a century ago, has so many resonances with the world today. As I was reading I kept thinking about people who have plastic surgery over and over again to try to look young and the people who want to live forever in some form. These are not new ideas of course, just the methods change as the available technology changes. When Bruno is offered the choice between living out whatever time he has left and being frozen so he can wake up cancer-free and pick up his life where he left off, he doesn't really give it that much thought. Would it have mattered if he did? Could he have even imagined the kind of world he'd come back to? Would he have been able to grasp that his status as a 'guinea pig' for this technology would cost him something in the end? Would he have gotten to the point where he'd consider the difference between extending an existence indefinitely and living a life? Whether he would've gotten to these questions before he was frozen or not, he was certainly faced with them when he was brought back to consciousness.
The book is extremely well written. I was hooked from the very beginning. Bodelsen creates a cold atmosphere throughout. The book starts in January, so we're cold from the start. Bruno has a recurring thought/memory of a time when he went skating with friends and realized that he was on thin ice, which was cracking all around him as he desperately tried to get back to shore. He doesn't have any close relationships, and seems a bit detached from others. When he's brought back from his frozen state, the environment he's in is sterile and cold--not in terms of temperature, but in terms of human connection and warmth. As reality slowly dawns on him, he struggles to make sense of his situation and to change it. Does he succeed? I'll leave it to readers to find out for themselves. I thoroughly enjoyed this excellent book and highly recommend it.
Thanks to NetGalley and Faber and Faber for a digital review copy.
October 19, 2025
First published in Denmark in 1969, this story follows Bruno, a fiction editor, diagnosed with a terminal cancer in 1973. He's offered a choice: live out the natural remainder of his life, or become one of the first to be cryogenically frozen until medicine advances enough to cure him. Having no particular ties, despite a liaison with a ballet dancer he has recently met, he opts for the latter. The book is in 3 parts: 1973, 1995 and 2022.
The costs of Bruno's preservation are met by the state, and as such, he becomes the property of the state. So when he is revived in 1995, he discovers the state has taken startling liberties with him. The reanimation process takes place over weeks or months, a more realistic portrayal than many depictions, where someone pops out of a pod and an hour later they're running about. It takes Bruno a while to understand where he is, regain his speech, movement and ability to question his environment. Under the pretence of prioritising his welfare, medical staff strictly control his location, mobility, and any stimulus he receives, while keeping him under constant observation. Despite this, Bruno senses that things are not right with the world outside, and the book takes a dystopian turn. It also goes a bit meta with Bruno, in his fiction editor mindset, wondering about stories that could be created from his situation. He also realises he is in love with the ballet dancer he left behind in 1973 and tries to find out what happened to her.
The book is of its time: men are doctors, women are nurses (or ballet dancers :), and nurses are required to take care of all their patients' needs, including sexual. And cryogenics or cryonics preservation itself has fallen out of fashion since being introduced to the public in the 70s/80s. But Bruno's story remains relevant today, raising questions about the impact medical advances and a growing population might have on society, the obsession with staying young and the costs and ethics of that. Plus, quality of life, an argument in the assisted dying debate. Also interesting comparing Bodelsen's vision for 1995 and 2022 against our experience. It's a thought-provoking read that does a good job illustrating the absurdity and horror of Bruno's situation, the implications of the technology, and how it all unravels.
The costs of Bruno's preservation are met by the state, and as such, he becomes the property of the state. So when he is revived in 1995, he discovers the state has taken startling liberties with him. The reanimation process takes place over weeks or months, a more realistic portrayal than many depictions, where someone pops out of a pod and an hour later they're running about. It takes Bruno a while to understand where he is, regain his speech, movement and ability to question his environment. Under the pretence of prioritising his welfare, medical staff strictly control his location, mobility, and any stimulus he receives, while keeping him under constant observation. Despite this, Bruno senses that things are not right with the world outside, and the book takes a dystopian turn. It also goes a bit meta with Bruno, in his fiction editor mindset, wondering about stories that could be created from his situation. He also realises he is in love with the ballet dancer he left behind in 1973 and tries to find out what happened to her.
The book is of its time: men are doctors, women are nurses (or ballet dancers :), and nurses are required to take care of all their patients' needs, including sexual. And cryogenics or cryonics preservation itself has fallen out of fashion since being introduced to the public in the 70s/80s. But Bruno's story remains relevant today, raising questions about the impact medical advances and a growing population might have on society, the obsession with staying young and the costs and ethics of that. Plus, quality of life, an argument in the assisted dying debate. Also interesting comparing Bodelsen's vision for 1995 and 2022 against our experience. It's a thought-provoking read that does a good job illustrating the absurdity and horror of Bruno's situation, the implications of the technology, and how it all unravels.
May 5, 2024
Anders Bodelsen (1937-2021) might well be called “the Ira Levin of Denmark.” Like Levin, his strengths never lay in strong and beautiful prose, but rather in ingenious, clockwork-like narrative constructs. One of his Danish collaborators described him as a “master of the plots.” As in the case of Levin, film adaptations of Bodelsen's work tend to deliver more fulsomely than the source material. Nowhere is this more evident than in Curtis Hanson and Daryl Duke’s The Silent Partner (1978) - a crackling thriller of Hitchcockian complexity that far outshines Bodelsen's bestselling novel, Think of a Number.
The 1969 novel Freezing Down - one of a handful of Bodelsen works to be translated into English - doesn’t really reflect a surfeit of narrative ingenuity. FD has a great, tried-and-true science fiction subject - cryopreservation. But from there it moves into a familiar dystopian fable about an Orwellian future predicated on preserving human life while squelching love, joy and freedom. There are suggestions of hope and redemption and liberation in the story (mankind bucking the tyrannical system) but none of these play out on the page - and because Bodelsen hints at them but never exploits them, the story begins to feel like unfulfilled set up with little to no payoff. And the epilogue - which takes a Pledge-like plunge into the depths of human insanity - depressed the hell out of me.
Mercifully, this was a brief read (picked it up and finished it in a single day) and I will not soon forget it. There is intelligence at work, but Bodelsen was far more capable of narrative derring-do than this piece of mediocrity.
The 1969 novel Freezing Down - one of a handful of Bodelsen works to be translated into English - doesn’t really reflect a surfeit of narrative ingenuity. FD has a great, tried-and-true science fiction subject - cryopreservation. But from there it moves into a familiar dystopian fable about an Orwellian future predicated on preserving human life while squelching love, joy and freedom. There are suggestions of hope and redemption and liberation in the story (mankind bucking the tyrannical system) but none of these play out on the page - and because Bodelsen hints at them but never exploits them, the story begins to feel like unfulfilled set up with little to no payoff. And the epilogue - which takes a Pledge-like plunge into the depths of human insanity - depressed the hell out of me.
Mercifully, this was a brief read (picked it up and finished it in a single day) and I will not soon forget it. There is intelligence at work, but Bodelsen was far more capable of narrative derring-do than this piece of mediocrity.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 18, 2025
A well-told, entertaining parable: 4/5
Freezing Point by Anders Bodelsen explores the implications of extended life, and centres around the fundamental question of should you live now, or instead focus on the prospect of a better tomorrow.
The vehicle for this exploration is magazine fiction editor Bruno, who when faced with a choice between living out his life with terminal cancer or being 'frozen down' until a cure is available, chooses the latter. He awakes into a different world, and the struggles he faces reveal the cost of his choice.
The ideas explored by Freezing Point are engaging, and there's plenty of fodder in even the early sections about the best way to live and ideas or the act of 'doing'. As the book goes on themes of freedom, the social compact and the danger of the 'ideal' shine through strongly.
This is definitely an ideas-forward book. The prose is so straightforward and frank that it occasionally comes off as humorously dry, and there isn't *tons* of plot or character development. It's obvious that these things, plus the genuinely interesting worlds shown, are really just the canvas for what Bodelsen wants to say about life. In that way it's more like a parable than a fully-fledged novel.
For its limitations, Freezing Point is well-constructed and executed, and enjoyable throughout. Recommended for those who like the idea of a book about ideas, less so for those craving careful plotting or fully-rendered characters.
Thank you to Faber and Faber, Netgalley and the recently deceased Anders Bodelsen for providing a free copy of Freezing Point, in return for an honest review.
Freezing Point by Anders Bodelsen explores the implications of extended life, and centres around the fundamental question of should you live now, or instead focus on the prospect of a better tomorrow.
The vehicle for this exploration is magazine fiction editor Bruno, who when faced with a choice between living out his life with terminal cancer or being 'frozen down' until a cure is available, chooses the latter. He awakes into a different world, and the struggles he faces reveal the cost of his choice.
The ideas explored by Freezing Point are engaging, and there's plenty of fodder in even the early sections about the best way to live and ideas or the act of 'doing'. As the book goes on themes of freedom, the social compact and the danger of the 'ideal' shine through strongly.
This is definitely an ideas-forward book. The prose is so straightforward and frank that it occasionally comes off as humorously dry, and there isn't *tons* of plot or character development. It's obvious that these things, plus the genuinely interesting worlds shown, are really just the canvas for what Bodelsen wants to say about life. In that way it's more like a parable than a fully-fledged novel.
For its limitations, Freezing Point is well-constructed and executed, and enjoyable throughout. Recommended for those who like the idea of a book about ideas, less so for those craving careful plotting or fully-rendered characters.
Thank you to Faber and Faber, Netgalley and the recently deceased Anders Bodelsen for providing a free copy of Freezing Point, in return for an honest review.
November 20, 2025
Thanks to Faber Books for sending me an ARC, it hasn't affected my review.
This is genuinely a book that's so hard to describe while doing it justice- published in 1969 by Danish author Anders Bodelsen, and translated into English for this new edition, the story follows Bruno, a young magazine editor who gives all his ideas for stories to his clients. After he finds a lump in his neck while shaving, Bruno is told he has terminal cancer- but he's given a choice: to be frozen down in a cryogenics chamber until medicine can save him. Making his decision, Bruno spends one night with a beautiful ballet dancer before he is frozen. He wakes in 1995 and then again in 2022, fully cured but in a world he doesn't understand- the rich control organs and death itself while the poor live one life, war has ended and all joy in life is slowly sapping away. Stuck in this new world, Bruno has to decide what he wants from life and if it's worth it.
This is a very short book, clocking in at 185 pages, but it's one I couldn't put down once I started. I was fascinated by how the author viewed the future and just how accurate he was in parts around the wealthy and capitalism. The character of Bruno is likeable and humorous, I enjoyed his narration as he's forced to face the likelihood of dying at thirty two and then the terrible choice of choosing to be frozen. I really liked how we are constantly reminded of the cold from the first page and his obsession with the thermostat. This is a dark and nihilist look at the future, very dystopian in places, but I'm so glad I read it for the odd humour and the ideas behind it.
This is genuinely a book that's so hard to describe while doing it justice- published in 1969 by Danish author Anders Bodelsen, and translated into English for this new edition, the story follows Bruno, a young magazine editor who gives all his ideas for stories to his clients. After he finds a lump in his neck while shaving, Bruno is told he has terminal cancer- but he's given a choice: to be frozen down in a cryogenics chamber until medicine can save him. Making his decision, Bruno spends one night with a beautiful ballet dancer before he is frozen. He wakes in 1995 and then again in 2022, fully cured but in a world he doesn't understand- the rich control organs and death itself while the poor live one life, war has ended and all joy in life is slowly sapping away. Stuck in this new world, Bruno has to decide what he wants from life and if it's worth it.
This is a very short book, clocking in at 185 pages, but it's one I couldn't put down once I started. I was fascinated by how the author viewed the future and just how accurate he was in parts around the wealthy and capitalism. The character of Bruno is likeable and humorous, I enjoyed his narration as he's forced to face the likelihood of dying at thirty two and then the terrible choice of choosing to be frozen. I really liked how we are constantly reminded of the cold from the first page and his obsession with the thermostat. This is a dark and nihilist look at the future, very dystopian in places, but I'm so glad I read it for the odd humour and the ideas behind it.
November 7, 2025
Bruno chooses to be cryogenically frozen in 1973 after discovering a lump in his neck. Awakened 22 years later into a world transformed by technology and moral decay, he finds that the promise of progress has come at a haunting cost. As he drifts through a society obsessed with immortality, Bruno must confront what it truly means to be alive.
I always enjoy reading books that predict futures set in years I’ve lived through and it’s fascinating to see how authors envisioned the world would be. Written in 1969, this book imagines a dystopian future set in 1973, 1995 and 2022, where society collapses under the weight of its obsession with immortality. With most humans frozen and too few awake to sustain everyday life, even the doctors behind cryogenics are crumbling under their own creation.
Here, Bruno searches for meaning in a world where life never truly ends, yet his own freedom diminishes with each procedure. We glimpse the decaying world mostly through the doctors’ accounts, though I wished for more scenes of Bruno himself experiencing it to deepen his existential struggle.
Dark, repressive, and deeply lonely, this story follows a futile quest to extend time while losing sight of what it truly means to live. At under 200 pages, it’s a concise yet haunting exploration of existentialism and nihilism that leaves you questioning: if you could live forever, would you really want to? 3/5.
Thanks to Faber & Faber for this ARC in exchange for my honest review.
Republished book available now.
I always enjoy reading books that predict futures set in years I’ve lived through and it’s fascinating to see how authors envisioned the world would be. Written in 1969, this book imagines a dystopian future set in 1973, 1995 and 2022, where society collapses under the weight of its obsession with immortality. With most humans frozen and too few awake to sustain everyday life, even the doctors behind cryogenics are crumbling under their own creation.
Here, Bruno searches for meaning in a world where life never truly ends, yet his own freedom diminishes with each procedure. We glimpse the decaying world mostly through the doctors’ accounts, though I wished for more scenes of Bruno himself experiencing it to deepen his existential struggle.
Dark, repressive, and deeply lonely, this story follows a futile quest to extend time while losing sight of what it truly means to live. At under 200 pages, it’s a concise yet haunting exploration of existentialism and nihilism that leaves you questioning: if you could live forever, would you really want to? 3/5.
Thanks to Faber & Faber for this ARC in exchange for my honest review.
Republished book available now.
December 23, 2025
A dystopian novel, originally published in Denmark in 1969, centring on people’s fear of death and the pursuit of eternity. A jaded magazine editor is diagnosed with terminal cancer and given the chance to postpone the inevitable by being ‘frozen down’ until a cure is found. Humanity is now divided into mortal ‘now-life’ and immortal ‘all-life’, the latter coming at considerable cost.
Written in a brisk, straightforward style, I found this a quick and enjoyable read which raises some serious questions about whether living a long life is necessarily such a good thing. There is quite a bit of deadpan (Scandinavian?) humour in the book, which I enjoyed. Some of Bodelsen’s predictions have since come true, e.g. autonomous electric vehicles, wall-size TVs, and even AI-assisted medical intervention (though not expressed in quite those terms).
There are some passages in the book which female readers might find uncomfortable reading, but to their credit Faber warns that ‘the language in these pages is a reflection of the historical period in which the book was originally written.’
On the back flap page, there is a short biography of Sophie Mackintosh, who wrote a four-page ‘Foreword’, but we’re told nothing – shamefully - about the translator, Joan Tate. According an obituary in The Guardian on 7 July 2000, she “was an outstanding and prolific literary translator, [who] worked on more than 200 books from the Scandinavian languages.”
Written in a brisk, straightforward style, I found this a quick and enjoyable read which raises some serious questions about whether living a long life is necessarily such a good thing. There is quite a bit of deadpan (Scandinavian?) humour in the book, which I enjoyed. Some of Bodelsen’s predictions have since come true, e.g. autonomous electric vehicles, wall-size TVs, and even AI-assisted medical intervention (though not expressed in quite those terms).
There are some passages in the book which female readers might find uncomfortable reading, but to their credit Faber warns that ‘the language in these pages is a reflection of the historical period in which the book was originally written.’
On the back flap page, there is a short biography of Sophie Mackintosh, who wrote a four-page ‘Foreword’, but we’re told nothing – shamefully - about the translator, Joan Tate. According an obituary in The Guardian on 7 July 2000, she “was an outstanding and prolific literary translator, [who] worked on more than 200 books from the Scandinavian languages.”
Displaying 1 - 30 of 66 reviews