In the Company of Angels

by Thomas E. Kennedy

In the Company of Angels is the powerful story of two damaged souls trying to find their way from darkness toward light.

Imprisoned and tortured for months by Pinochet's henchmen for teaching political poetry to his students, Bernardo Greene is visited by two angels, who promise him that he will survive to experience beauty and love once again. Months later, at the Torture Rehabilitation Center in Copenhagen, the Chilean exile befriends Michela Ibsen, herself a survivor of domestic abuse. In the long nights of summer, the two of them struggle to heal, to forgive those who have left them damaged, and to trust themselves to love.

Dense with wisdom and humanity, possessed of a timeless, fable-like quality, In the Company of Angels is a riveting read and a testament to the resilience and complexity of the human heart.

The novel marks the first large-scale US publication of a major American author, known internationally but only within literary circles in his homeland.

Genres: Fiction, Literary Fiction, Historical Fiction, Denmark, Literature, Psychology, Novels

288 pages, Hardcover

First published July 1, 2009

About the author

Thomas E. Kennedy is an author of novels, short stories, and essays. He has been a journalist for World Medical Journal and the Danish Medical Association and a translator and editor for Copenhagen's Rehabilitation Center for Torture Victims and now teaches at Fairleigh Dickinson University. He lives in Copenhagen with his wife, a physician.

Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.

Reviews

[DeB · Rating 5 out of 5]

"The pain was not his alone, it was theirs together, a place that had waited to be discovered by what she saw now as the indefatigable wish to love."

My chest tightened and tears welled up as I read this sentence and its accompanying passage. At my core, I understood. Terrible psychic pain caused by cruelty and injustice desecrate personal attachment to living. How could that possibly change?

Bernardo (Nardo) Greene has found sanctuary in Denmark, after surviving horrendous torture during his imprisonment in Chile under Pinochet's government. The practice of detaining, removing, torturing and eventually causing the death of those who become known as the "disappeared" because they in some small way might espouse views contrary to the reigning despot has moved across borders in South America. Nardo had been a teacher of poetry. He also was the son of a man who was killed with Victor Jara, a famous left-wing songwriter and singer, at the time of the Chilean coup in 1973.

Dr. Thorkild Kristensen is the psychologist whose mission is "to begin to free him back to who he was before, a man who read, taught, who held convictions he valued more than his own safety". The psychologist is a member of a centre which works with refugees in recovery from the abuse of their former homelands, is very experienced but he fights with his feelings over Nardo, trying to remain detached. Thorkild's family suffers from his over-involvement. Nardo remains frozen emotionally, refusing to take the painful leap to acknowledge his feelings of shame, humiliation and belief that he is less than a man.

However, adrift though he is, Nardo notices a lovely woman, with "eyes of blue light". He considers a contact, reaching out... An enormous step. Michela will become part of his life, but not before we learn that she has experienced hardships in her life and also assumes fault for its pain and disappointments. She is the ex-wife of a violent marriage and her seventeen year old daughter has recently died of an overdose. Her parents are in a care home; her mother is senile and her gruff father is dying of cancer. Her boyfriend Voss, ten years her junior, has become intimidating.

The Café Noir is the spot where Nardo and Michela begin their dance of glances and smiles. Happenstance leads to a meeting on Tango Day elsewhere, and they dance. "Some say the word TANGO is from the Latin TANGERE, to touch,"... And when they meet again she asks if he believes in angels, and he tells her that her name is that of an angel. He believes in her.

Nardo shares his story, in the third person. He tells Michela about the visitation of the angels who showed him summer and promised him that he would experience this beauty again, when he was imprisoned.

But Michela herself is not ready for this man. "Why do they beat me?", she asks herself. Why must they be violent? As she contemplates Nardo's tragic life, she finds her answer - and defines anew for Nardo what it means to be a man.

Gently, the novel continues to quietly move on with the supporting characters' lives. Nardo shares his story of the angels once more, a gift of his experience, with Voss.

"You shall too be free of this pain too, my friend..."

This story builds slowly, shifting from character to character, their introspection and actions gradually making them incredibly dear to the reader. We know from the beginning that we are looking at hope and how it might be retrieved but tangentially that puzzle is at the heart of the novel. The unimaginable pain suffered by Nardo is described in a way that never discounts the others' sorrow or misfortune. This is a very special piece of fiction which has grown even more so as I finish this review. 5 stars! Highly recommended.

[Greg · Rating 3 out of 5]

At last I have won a goodreads.com first reads contest and I haven't hated the book.

Don't let my three star rating be too much of a fault against the book (as if anyone cares what I rate a book). I'd give it 7 stars out of 10, but I just can't bring myself to give it four stars.

The first part of a quartet, that might be released already in other countries, I'm not quite sure. Apparently the author is well respected outside of America, and generally unpublished here in his homeland. I do not know if the next books in the quartet have to do with the same characters, or if some of the characters will continue in the next book and some will not. I'll probably read the next one, I'm not sure what the plot could possibly be since this is a stand alone story.

Part of my lack of love towards this book I think is it's timidity. The book is very reserved, and never feels like it gives the full force of the material and characters the author has created. There is also an asymmetrical feeling to amount of pages given to the various characters. The first person narrator is probably the least needed character in the book, and one can see the story getting on fine without him; which makes me wonder why he is there (and maybe he plays more of a part in the second book, or is the connection between the books in the series).

The dying father out of no where is given the largest sustained chapter in the book, but before and after that long chapter his story is more part of the background tales being weaved and ot part of the immediate narrative. The characters in the forefront of the story are present in more short chapters, but they don't ever get the type of treatment the dying father gets.

I don't know what to say. Parts of this book are moving, the stories move along in a pleasant way (it sounds awful to use the word pleasant in a novel about torture and the awfulness that lives right below the surface of too many human relationships). I don't know, maybe this is like Dark Post-War European Literature Lite, or as through the lens of an American expatriate.

[Roger Brunyate · Rating 4 out of 5]

Last Tango in Purgatory

At the exact half-way point in this perfectly-calculated but exquisite novel two people dance a tango outside a bar in a Copenhagen square:

Four steps across and a close, his thigh between hers as their eyes met and her lips parted to draw breath. He trapped her arm, but loosely, behind her as they did another volta, looking away from each other in one direction, in the other, and the woman in black clapped her hands once, crying out "Bravo, compadre!" […] "One more," she said softly; "such a passionate dance!" "No," he said. "It is the dance of sorrow. The dance of those who are far away and alone."

The man, Bernardo Greene, a former teacher, is indeed far away and alone, having fled his native Chile after his family has disappeared and he himself tortured for daring to teach the work of poets who write the truth. Traumatized by literally unspeakable violence, he has come for healing to Copenhagen's famous Rehabilitation Center for Torture Victims, where his doctor tries to break through the wall between him and his emotions. The woman, Michela Ibsen, divorced from an abusive husband, now finds herself once more in a potentially violent relationship, and does not know how to break free. We already know a great deal about Nardo and Michela, and there will be many obstacles to overcome before they can truly help one another. But this unlikely encounter, in a dance from the opposite side of the globe that balances intimacy and solitude, violence and passion, marks a perfect turning-point. Even the setting, in a city square dedicated to the Danish resistance of WW2, is meaningful.

The extremes in this novel are tempered by touches of almost everything in between. Violence, for example, is not confined to those tortures in a Chilean jail (of which we do not hear much but just enough). It is reflected in the strain that threatens to break the doctor's marriage apart when he brings his work home. It is seen in that kind of lovemaking that uses the bodies of others for what can be taken from them rather than given back. It is seen in the cruel silence of couples that punish each other not by acts committed but by kindnesses withheld. It is seen in the racism of strangers that regard anybody with darker hair or skin as alien, lesser beings.

Love too takes many forms. Most striking, Nardo's vision of two angels in the depths of his ordeal, promising him that he would experience love yet again. Love comes—the ending of the book slips gently into a transformation so subtle that you hardly notice it until it is a reality—but it does not come easily. Meanwhile, there are other kinds of love to touch first. The love of the surrounding world: the lakes and paths of the city, people going about their daily lives, the change of the seasons. The caring of friends. The love of husband and wife, striving to find a path through pain. The love of a daughter for a father even when mired in selfishness and rotted away by cancer. The love that, even in bed, finds other forms of expression when the obvious ones fail.

Angels bring messages of hope, but they can also terrify. The greatest miracles in this brilliant and transformative novel occur when love finds a way to harness anger and confront it, facing evil head on, and finding at least some promise of redemption.

[Stephen Goldenberg · Rating 3 out of 5]

I discovered Thomas E Kennedy a few years ago when I read 'Falling Sideways' and was very impressed. It's taken me a while to get back to him and, although there is much to admire in this novel, I found it a tad disappointing.
Kennedy is an American living in, and writing about, Copenhagen. It's not a city I've been to but it provides a compelling background to these novels. Nardo is a Chilean teacher who was imprisoned and tortured by the Pinochet regime for teaching the works of banned poets to his students. He is struggling to recover with the help of a counsellor in Copenhagen. Kennedy gradually, almost reluctantly, (mirroring Nardo's reluctance to face and thus overcome the horrors he's experienCed), details the torture inflicted on him, leading up to the truly horrific incident which finally makes him sign a confession.
Alongside Nardo's story, we are told Michela's, a divorced woman trying to recover from the death of her teenage daughter. These are both strong and compelling characters and Kennedy slowly and subtly brings them together.
My problem with the novel was the lengthy sections given over to the stories of the other characters I.e. Nardo's therapist, Michela's obsessive younger boyfriend and her father who is dying of cancer. For me, these were less interesting characters and were given too much space which distracted from the more interesting growing relationship between Michela's and Nardo.

[Jill · Rating 5 out of 5]

Every now and then, a book comes along that you want to tell the next person you meet, "You must read this." ANGELS is simply masterful -- an exquisitely-written book that focuses on the theme of torture (physical and emotional) and redemption. I promise -- you will not soon forget it.

[Irene · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this book so long ago, yet it continues to haunt me in untold ways. As it resolutely remains beside my "to-review" bench, I painfully hesitate to address my tenuous commitment to satisfactorily articulate how profoundly one book is capable of genuinely provocative reflection long after the last page is read. Yet, In the Company of Angels refuses to relieve me of lingering thoughts, so it is best to be rid of its rabid hold upon my dreams, much like Nardo, who has endured the tortuous anguish, much like the reader who weeps and eventually rejoices with him.

Redemption in its most crucial moment demands a noble submission beyond what mere forgiveness portends to offer. As a Chilean teacher who teaches his beloved country's poetic songs during Pinochet's regime, Nardo's unyielding courage amidst unimaginable persecution initially robs him not only of his fundamental dignity, but also shatters the remnants of his invincible spirit. A virtual prisoner, physically within his sparse quarters and emotionally as a patient of the renowned Copenhagen Rehabilitation Center for Torture Victims, Nardo's guarded psychological sessions appear doggedly bleak until his fleeting vision of Michela.

Nardo's brief encounter with beautiful Michela creates a poignantly crucial fissure in his restrained carapace. "Your name," he said. "Michela. It is the name of an angel. I believe in you." In the company of his angelic Michela, Nardo remembers the promise of the angels who visited him. And it is Michela, fighting her own demons, who in the minute gestures of daily life unwittingly fulfills that promise: "…the possibility of life." "…The true and sweet sadness of two human beings coming this close…" "Nardo realized now that he had…two champions…Thorkild Kristensen…who entered the burning rooms…of souls to drag them out into safety…her, too, Michela, who touched his broken face with love…"

Thomas Kennedy's third book in the Copenhagen Quartet is a quietly disturbing rendering of liberating personal history, melancholic at times, but without despair.

[Mag · Rating 5 out of 5]

Written 'in a slow, ponderous prose, almost like the music of some strange film, grinding deeply, escalating and then dropping, but resonating for a long time', is Kennedy’s tale of torture and abuse, but also of hope and healing. Two characters are at the centre of this story: Nardo, a teacher who has survived torture at the hands of Chilean oppressors and is now trying to get back to normal, and Michela, a victim of domestic abuse. The story is compelling and rings true, and is written in a languorous, poetic prose, generously sprinkled with poetry throughout.

Kennedy is an American author who permanently lives in Copenhagen, and even though a recipient of some European awards, he has not been published extensively in North America so far. This book, a part of the Copenhagen Quartet, most probably stems from his work as a translator and editor for Copenhagen’s Rehabilitation Center for Torture Victims and his engagement in his work. Compassionate and hopeful, it makes for a very good literary read.

It was a review copy.
4.5/5

[switterbug (Betsey) · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a resounding, deeply moving story of pain, sorrow, love, and redemption. Despite the characters' dark and soul-shattering journeys, light reflects on every page, both literally and aesthetically. Kennedy writes with an exquisite and tender timbre, lyrical and poetical, from core to root to stem to stalk to bloom. His prose is fueled with gravitas and grace, as he probes into the seeds of the subconscious with a Jungian finesse.

Nardo Greene is a Chilean teacher who is in Copenhagen receiving treatment for PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). He was tortured during Pinochet's regime for educating his pupils about "a poet who sang dangerous songs," a poet who was captured and died in a dungeon. Nardo's wife and child are joined with the *desaparecido*, the disappeared.

"The poets were captured, but not their songs. For a song, once it is let loose in the air, can only be captured by one person at a time and cannot be stopped, for there are not ever enough policeman, will never be enough policemen or enough soldiers to stop a song. Even all the money of the rich cannot stop a song from reaching the ears of those who will hear it. If only one person hears it and learns it, others will, too, and others again. And they will teach the song to others."

This beautiful passage points to the essence of the story, connecting with others to heal wounds, and about the power of human souls to surmount horrifying ordeals and ultimately prevail. Throughout the novel, Kennedy weaves in beautiful poetry, by authors such as Pablo Neruda, one of my cherished poets, and poignant Scandinavian poetry. Moreover, this is the first time that Matthew Arnold's "Dover Beach" mesmerized me with its rousing expression and eloquent sound and rhythm.

When this novel opens, psychotherapist Dr. Kristensen is trying to bring Nardo back to the land of the living. Nardo is emotionally, psychically, and spiritually dead. Kristensen is an enthusiastic and diligent doctor, facile at his work. But with Nardo he has hit a wall. His ability to maintain a professional and therapeutic distance is threatened by the fact that Nardo's demons are visiting him. Moreover, he is losing his grip with his family. The chapters from the doctor's perspective are the only chapters written in first person. It is as if he is the center, from which all others radiate outward and back, even the characters that don't personally interact with him. And, yet, he remains the most enigmatic, the most difficult character to pin down. His character feels disembodied at times, as he is woven in as the literal healing force.

Michela Ibsen is a lovely woman, an ordinary woman, burdened with unresolved grief. Her much younger boyfriend is Voss, a boyishly handsome and emotionally stunted individual. He is suffocating her with his perverse needs and possessiveness.

Michela's parents are both seriously ill. They live in separate rooms in a facility for the aged and infirm. Her relationship with them is complex and crucial to the novel's themes, and they furnish subtext and context to Michela's private agony. Michela's love-hate bond with her father is deftly rendered with intense color and character. Her mother, who suffers from Alzheimer's, bestows an echoing impact that is ceaseless and ultimately full of wonder.

The chapters alternate seamlessly from one character to another, as the circle shrinks and all their fates ineluctably entwine. The angels, who appear with a stunning literary presence, represent the figurative healing force, the deep consciousness shared by all humanity.

There is violence, but it is measured and never gratuitous. The story unfolds with a noble and elegant symmetry, leaving the reader exalted and wanting more. It imbues you like a penetrating symphony; and, like a symphony in four movements, this is the first of Kennedy's quartet. I eagerly anticipate the US release of the remaining three books.

[Diane Tweed · Rating 1 out of 5]

I received this as an AR from Goodreads.

I first have to say that this is not book I would normally read. However, the synopsis sounded interesting and I am looking to expand my reading interests.

Unfortunately, the book did not live up to my expectations. I couldn't connect with any of the characters. There is not a lot of dialogue, but rather a lot of internal thought processes. I found these thought processes strange, disjointed and somewhat unbelievable. I also had a hard time connecting with the characters as they were only seen in such limited scenarios. Other than when they were interacting with one another, I got no sense of what these people do. It was almost as if they just sat in their apartments doing nothing until their next scene in the book came up.

I understand that Bernardo had suffered torture. I don't know much about torture, but it is hard for me to believe that with the torture being as horrible as described, that he had no long term physical problems. I also found it hard to believe that as soon as he told about his wife and child, that he no longer needed any treatment. Perhaps he was still working on his recovery, but there were no further scenes with the psychotherapist.

As for Michela, if the synopsis had not explained that she came from an abusive relationship, I'm not sure that I would have picked it up. Even when the abuse is mentioned, it seemed as if it happened so long ago that she hardly remembers it. The same for the memories of her child.

The psychotherapist, Voss and Michela's father all seemed quite unbelievable to me. In fact, just about every other character in the book was unbelievable. It seems like everyone Bernardo ran into was rather prejudiced, nasty or just plain inconsiderate.

I feel that I wrote more than I wanted to, and yet, I have more I would like to say. Perhaps I missed something, because most people seemed to like this book.

[Cathy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've read many books that are page-turners, but In the Company of Angels drew me in beyond that. I, more than wanting to finish the book, wanted to savor every page and read small bits at a time to prolong the experience. Kennedy crafted a heart-wrenchingly beautiful and expertly-told story.

The characters' perspectives were woven together in a way that flowed with ease. Each character brought depth and insight to the story and added new meaning.

Kennedy wrote about difficult topics of abuse, human suffering, and love with such great wisdom and understanding. The tragedy and beauty in the characters' stories of healing were moving. I wish my review could really give justice to the beauty of the novel, but it's a book that you need to read for yourself. Kennedy's writing is moving and reaches right at what is is to be human.

[Doug · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was some very beautiful, lyrical writing about a difficult subject. What happens to those who survive torture? What is the affect of exposure to the most violent and dark of human nature on the immediate victim and on those around them? Is it possible to move on?

I very very much enjoyed the story, but I do admit that the context/setting (exposure to torture) was hard to take. While there was no graphic description of the turture, the description of it's affect on the main protagonist quite affected me. I've perhaps read worse (stories with worse subject matter) but none that dealt with it in a character that was so immediately human to me.

[Friederike Knabe · Rating 5 out of 5]

Danish psychiatrist Thorkild Kristensen feels his case slipping away. His patient, Chilean exile Bernardo (Nardo) Greene, is avoiding eye contact and resisting all attempts to be coaxed back to the memories of the horrific events that are at the root of his harrowing physical and emotional pain. Yet, without confronting again those demons of the past, any healing of the body and the soul are unlikely to be possible. In this accomplished and deeply moving novel, Thomas E. Kennedy examines with profound insight and extraordinary sensitivity a torture survivor's multifaceted struggles towards recovery and hope for a humane future. Not limiting himself to this one powerful storyline that is dealing with aftermaths of state endorsed brutality against those who dare to think independently, he introduces a second similarly affecting narrative thread. At its centre is Michela Ibsen, a beautiful young woman with sky-blue eyes, who Nardo has been admiring from afar. A victim of domestic abuse and a difficult family background, she comes alive in Kennedy's intricate portrayal. The stories alternate and gradually interweave and the author succeeds in doing so with gracefulness and subtle beauty as both protagonists take tentative steps towards each other and to the healing of their souls.

While Michela's story is important on its own and as preparation for her role in Nardo's life, for me, Nardo's story stands out more than anything else in this novel. The author's extraordinary ability to evoke the rainbow of emotions that any torture survivor has to pass through to find hope at the end of that rainbow, is such that I, for one, was completely in tune with the character. Nardo, having maintained his stubborn silence in the face of Kristensen's questioning, can finally share his trauma with Michela, yet only by inventing another victim in his stead. This is the beginning of more healing and an opening to one of the most delicate love stories one can imagine. Kennedy has created totally authentic voices for Nardo and his doctor, who himself is pulled into Nardo's nightmares and has to fight demons of his own. Such voices need to be heard, far beyond the confines of this remarkable novel.

IN THE COMPANY OF ANGELS, was informed and inspired by work of the International Rehabilitation Council for Torture Victims, based in Copenhagen, and its founder Dr. Inge Genefke. "It has been said" Dr. Genefke is quoted writing in her comment on Kennedy's novel, "that no language exists to describe the experience of that greatest of all traumas -- torture -- the attempt to erase a human being's personality by the willful infliction of intense physical and psychological pain[...:] With the great talent of an artist [Kennedy:] has created a language which brilliantly describes not only the intense loneliness and distress of those who have survived torture, but also the struggle, hope, and possibility of their healing." It could not have been expressed better and more succinctly by anybody else.

This award winning novel, originally published in 2004 in Ireland under the title "Greene's Summer", is part of a quartet of independent novels "about the seasons and souls of the Danish capital". In his novel, Kennedy touches on many aspects of city life, its environment as well as Danish societal issues, connected primarily to local attitudes to immigration and political change. Michela's father is another important voice in this context. As an American having made Copenhagen his home for many uears, the author is also very sensitive to challenges of language and comprehension. Examples of that find a touching place in the novel, with Nardo trying very hard to find the correct expressions in Danish, often retreating into his more fluent English or even Spanish. While only now published in North America and under the new title, the novel has lost nothing of its power of narrative, urgency of topic and global importance.

[Susan Tekulve · Rating 5 out of 5]

At the beginning of In the Company of Angels, a Chilean torture survivor named Bernardo Greene sits in a street-side café in Copenhagen on a chill June day and muses, “How much of a survivor, in fact, survives? How much must remain of a survivor for him also to be called a man?” These questions become the central preoccupation of this wise and astonishingly beautiful novel that weaves together the lives of characters who have survived unspeakably evil events: After his release from the South American prison, Bernardo Greene finds himself without family or country, living in Copenhagen, attending therapy sessions that seem a little too much like brutal interrogation; a Danish secretary named Michela escapes from a violent marriage and into the arms of an obsessive and brutal man named Voss Anderson; Michela’s father, Mikail Ibsen, waits out the last days of his life in a state hospital, suffering the indignities of cancer, unable to connect with his estranged wife and daughter; Mikail’s wife, Lise, moves in a fog of senility one floor up from her husband in the same hospital, no longer able to recognize him. Thorkild Kristensen, Bernardo’s Danish therapist, struggles with the despair caused by counseling a man who has who has suffered from brutal crimes. Souls stunned, minds imprisoned by atrocious memories, all of these characters simply exist, unsure if they can or should awaken from their half-slumber of grief, until their lives intersect, the fog of sorrow rises and the slow recovery begins.
A native New Yorker and longtime resident of Copenhagen, Kennedy’s prose resonates with haunting descriptions of his beloved city’s cobblestone streets and boulevards that remain twilit all day long, melancholic characters who eat ambrosial pastries in the street-side cafes, and taste nothing. In its relentless exploration of grief, madness and revenge, In the Company of Angels also resembles Shakespeare’s tragedy, Hamlet. But Kennedy draws from the conventions of the revenge play—the ghost who cries for vengeance; the woman who goes mad from grief; the hero who feigns madness in order to execute his revenge—and transmutes these conventions into an original, more hopeful story. This masterful novel eventually passes beyond terror, and the reader is left contemplating the healing powers of kind daughters, ministering angels and the sad beauty of Danish summer.

[Holly · Rating 3 out of 5]

In this novel a Chilean victim of torture is living in Copenhagen and forced by his therapist/trauma counselor to return to his memories of torture and to re-live them in the therapeutic setting, presumably so that the victim can then get over the trauma and "move on." Although the novel was quite beautiful in some ways, and quite thought-provoking (it could have been called "A History of Violence as Seen Through the Intersecting Experiences of a Torture Victim, a Domestic Violence Victim, a Perpetrator-or-Two, and an Empathetic Psychotherapist"), these counseling scenes bothered me a lot. Just last week I indexed a scholarly book about truth and reconciliation commissions in Peru. In the normative trauma discourse of truth commissions (South Africa, Rwanda, Guatemala, Chile, Peru, etc,) women and victims are uniformly encouraged or coerced into telling their trauma stories, because the trauma industry's assumption is that to keep silent is to let the trauma fester and debilitate you, and to speak is to excise your pain. Trauma counselors draw the victims into supplying detailed testimonies of something they might rather forget. And along with this insistence on "talking trauma" goes the fact that the perpetrators, unless they are on trial, are not required to speak in the same way. But what if sometimes silence, remaining silent, would have been the more appropriate response to violence and shame in a culture? What if victims might need to forget - or sometimes to "pretend" to forget - so that they can return to their communities and live side-by-side with those who committed the acts of violence? And what if re-living the stories makes them worse by reinforcing the horror, by giving the victim more ways to look at the pain and experience it anew?

Anyway.

[Jennifer · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was fortunate to win this book from the blog written by Mary Whipple. I am very happy she lead me to a new author to eagerly await material from.

The story tells about a teacher who is brutally tortured in Chile, a divorced woman who has lost a child, her father with many life regrets, the therapist who is helping Nardo heal, and a young, immature, and self-centered boyfriend who is forced to self reflect.

I really enjoyed this story. Kennedy does an amazing job of capturing the human spirit through life, death, love, as well as the spirit of Denmark itself. This story will stay with me for a long time.

Although, I am far removed from the setting and have had a much different life experience than the characters of Nardo and Michela, I could recognize a little bit of myself and my loved ones in their story. Kennedy does an amazing job of connecting the characters of the story to the everyday reader. I wish I could pinpoint how exactly he does it but it felt different than I often feel when reading books where I really like the character or am intrigued by a characters story.

It is a heavy read yet somehow you remain hopeful during the most painful parts. Without giving too much of the ending away, I must say it was a well deserved ending that was believable.

[JennyB · Rating 2 out of 5]

Thomas Kennedy is a talented writer, but I didn't like his novel In the Company of Angels. It's an ugly book, with some lovely passages, and an incongruously happy ending. It is, I suppose, about love, and (mild spoiler) that's where the happy ending comes in. That ending is hard to swallow, since the whole rest of the book is essentially about how awful people in love (or perhaps, "in love") are to one another. If interpersonal depravity isn't enough for you, there's also a heaping helping of state-sanctioned, institutionalized torture: one of the protagonists is an escapee from Pinochet's Chilean horror show. I guess what Kennedy is saying is that, despite whatever personal or political abuse that has been visited upon it, the human spirit is resilient enough to hope again, and to love again. It's a lovely message, but following scene after scene of violence, perversion, and general fucked-upness, it just doesn't ring true. His conclusion seems an afterthought, while the real substance lies in the inescapable, pervasive ugliness.

[Sherie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sometimes after I've read a particularly inspiring book, I find myself unwilling or unable to pick up another book. Savoring is something I don't often indulge in, but after reading this book in all of its terrible beauty, I am not ready to take on the challenge of any literature.
I was a bit hesitant to read this because of the promise of human suffering and while there is that, there is redemption and hope so eloquently articulated.
The protaginist is a man living in Copenhagen, after surviving the evil regime of Pinochet. His torture and suffering are told without graphic description. He is trying to come to terms with survivor's guilt and the need to learn to trust. He places his trust in the most vunerable person, who has her own issues of trust.
Man's inhumanity to man is played out every day somewhere as it has been since the beginning of time. Our inability to overcome our fear and apathy to put an end to this pernicious behavior is subtly repeated in this book.

[Amy · Rating 1 out of 5]

One of the few books I have been unable to finish. The premise is fascinating: a man who suffered extreme torture in South America finds himself in Denmark getting therapy for his emotional issues. He meets and gets acquainted with a Danish woman who has suffered domestic abuse more than once. These two would make a great book.

But the woman's abuse and scary boyfriend isn't bad enough to be a true villain, and has no real emotional pull. The psychiatrist himself is equally distant, without anything to offer the reader to draw them in.

I finally gave up out of frustration with the side stories that didn't add to the narrative.

BUT, one character stood out: the wife of the psychiatrist who suffers his emotional abandonment. She was interesting and potentially could have pulled the book out of the mire of too many characters fighting over nothing.

[Maryjoamani · Rating 5 out of 5]

I don't know what it is lately but the books I have read lately are wonderful. In the Company of Angels tells the story of a teacher/poet tortured under the Pinochet takeover in Chile. He immigrates to Denmark and works with a psychiatrist to heal. The story also tells of the broken life of a Danish woman who is struggling to find meaning in her life. Love, forgiveness, openness to the pain of the lives of others, tolerance, understanding are all themes is the very very special book. In the end, the book teaches us all and reminds us that hope (and love) is present even in the darkest, darkest nights. It is a book that should/must be read.

[Vanessa · Rating 2 out of 5]

I have a hard time justifying this as a love story. True, there is a love story or two encapsulated into the plot, but the darker, violent themes carry a stronger resonance in this novel. The multiple perspectives prove to be another problematic issue. While it is possible to use this approach well in writing, this novel becomes more and more disjointed a further perspectives are added. I would prefer to read a select few instead of throwing in everyone and their father.

[Julian · Rating 2 out of 5]

I didn't like the style of writing. Mixing narratives can be interesting (think My Name is Red) but it doesn't work here. I also found the writing to be dry. Kennedy goes into detail to describe pretty normal, mundane things (a normal street, park or whatever in Copenhagen). I couldn't relate to any of these characters (the abuser or the abused). I also didn't feel the love. On the other hand, the sorrow and pain I could feel. All in all, Kennedy holds back too much for me.

[Ellen · Rating 5 out of 5]

The first in the wonderful Copenhagen Quartet as reissued by Bloomsbury. Disclaimer: Tom is a friend; footnote to disclaimer: my admiration of the books led to the friendship. This is a brilliant and moving exploration of our capacity to maintain our humanity in the face of inhumanity: torture rehabilitation, domestic abuse, tender romance.

[Kaitlin · Rating 2 out of 5]

I went pretty quickly through this book at first, but mostly just to find out what was going to happen. In the end, nothing really happened. I found the story rather anti-climatic and not very entertaining at all. Disappointing read.

[NK · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wasn't sure how to rate this book. There were parts that I found myself really getting into and others were I was skipping over paragrahs that went too deeply into aspects that didn't really add to the story.

[Jan · Rating 5 out of 5]

An exquisite reading experience - perhaps especially for a Copenhagen native. Thomas Kennedy demonstrates a keen sense of Danish culture and lack thereof. Beautiful story and convincing characters. Highly recommended.

[Liza]

A gruesome paced book. Would I recommend it? Nope. Something got lost in translation or the author has some serious issues to work out with sex and violence.

[Chloe Morley · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was an eye opening and diverse read about an individual (Bernardo) who was victim to the political turmoil of his country, who meets another main character called Michela. Michela has had her own share of turmoil from abusive romantic relationships to the loss of her child. Set in Denmark you get to see some of Dainish culture. This book is a story of the road to recovery after traumatic events with many quote worthy lines.

I enjoyed reading this book and was interested in the fact it’s set in Denmark because I’ve never read a book set there before. I also liked how it was insightful to the lives of those that fall victim to speaking out about the truth which some areas of society don’t always praise speaking of, as it’s not something we (or me at least) think about in our everyday lives. Whilst I’m going about my day to day business, it doesn’t occur to me at this very moment someone could be imprisoned and beaten just for discussing about what happens in their society.

However, the switch in point of views (POVs) was hard to make sense of in the beginning and I would get confused by it, but further into the book I could discern who’s POV it was more easily. It might’ve been nice for it to have been more immediately obvious though. I was also not crazy about Mikhail’s (Michela’s father’s) POVs, his characters thoughts and personality just didn’t gel with me as much I guess.

Quotes:

‘Caring, I realised, was not an act of Will, but a resource, a thing that existed in a man in a finite quantity.’ Page 148

‘“So many broken people. But like everything else, they must to be repaired each one at a time. This you have taught me, my friend.”’ Page 150

‘These were men who did not fear their ideas, for they had never been put to the test of their bodies.’ Page 160

‘“A writer has got to hate writing, the way a man hates his wife.”’Page 178

‘“May I say to you something? Do not be ashamed to say you do not know something. For a person to e-say ‘I do not know’ require wisdom.”’ Page 189
^ This would make me respect any character more.

‘All mistakes, pain, stupidity, injustice, preparing them to become something new together, something more certain and genuine.’ Page 248

[Sometimes IRead · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’m terrible at picking books for holidays, not that this is a holiday, but still. Common sense would suggest something light, to buoy the mood up fittingly, but no, I had to start with a heavy and challenging book.

In the Company of Angels by Thomas E. Kennedy follows a group of narrators as they navigate what it means to be alive. From Michela, who grapples with the reason behind why the men in her life hit her, to Nardo, who tries to emerge from the shadows of his trauma, and everyone in between, we watch as they try their hand at life in the best way they know how, even if they make a mess of things.

The writing felt almost brutal in the way it examined the subject matter, yet there was tenderness in certain phrases or quotes that certainly gave me pause. These usually came when Kennedy was making a point about life in general or the realization of the futility in striving in life. It certainly helped make the generally unlikeable characters a lot more sympathetic. Of course, there were characters that I was more partial to, as guided by Kennedy’s deft pen, but on a whole, the brokenness of each character was highlighted and displayed in an almost intimate way. Still, we did not veer into mawkishness, with well-timed bursts that undermined certain pompous moments.

The themes tackled here were definitely heavy ones, starting with the long-lasting trauma of torture. Seeing that on the first page of cracking open the book should have clued me in to what a terrible holiday reader I am, but I’m glad that I ploughed on. We get a glimpse of toxic masculinity and how the people it hurts the most is the posturing male. We also see how life is nasty, brutal, and short, but what makes it more bearable is the people we surround ourselves with. When we actively choose to love and support each other, instead of choosing oneself and lashing in out, can we have a chance of banishing our demons, both past and present.

Diversity meter:
Chilean character
Strong female character

[R.G. Evans · Rating 5 out of 5]

I never had the privilege of studying with Tom Kennedy when I was a student in the MFA program at Fairleigh Dickinson University from 2001-2004. I only knew him as the smiling, avuncular presence at program events, meals, and at the bar at Poor Herbie's. When I heard Tom had died earlier this year, it saddened me deeply knowing that the erudite man who never failed to greet me with a smile and by name was gone. Years ago, I had purchased In the Company of Angels, the first volume in Tom's Copenhagen Quartet, with the best intentions of reading it, which, unfortunately for me, I never did (I started it once, but for some reason didn't finish it). I finally got around to reading it this month as a tribute to Tom's passing.

What an amazing novel. Tom manages to bring together a cast of characters including a vitim of Pinochet's torture, a woman enduring a string of abusive relationships, a man dying a painful cancer death, and a woman suffering from severe dementia and turn their collective pain into one of the most beautiful, human novels I've read in a very long time. I mentioned Tom's erudition: this novel is infused with poetry, from Matthew Arnold, to Neruda, to Hamlet; world politics; and enough local color to make Copenhagen seem at once like an old familiar haunt (I've never been) and an indispensable character in the book itself. I find it difficult to call individuals "genius," but there is genius at work in this book. The world lost more than just an avuncular presence with Tom's passing; it lost an artist of breathtaking scope whose deep understanding of humanity helped make In the Company of Angels one of the most compelling and moving novels I've read in years.

[Keith · Rating 5 out of 5]

In a small bar on the outskirts of Copenhagen, two broken people are dancing the tango. He is a dark-haired man who has survived unspeakable depravities in the faraway land of his birth and has come to Denmark to heal. She is a native Dane with piercing blue eyes who still suffers physical and emotional abuses at the hands of those she has cared for the most. Will this dance, the dance of passion and sorrow, lead to their salvation?

In this stunning novel, we share the stories of Nardo and Michela and learn their fates. Through his masterful command of images and words, author Thomas Kennedy takes the reader on a journey that touches the depths of hell before ascending to the ultimate heights. He tells us a love story; more precisely, it is a tale of the power of love to redeem and restore after one has lost faith in all else. It is a love that comes to Michela and Nardo when they expect it the least but need it the most. It is nothing more than the love that the angels have ordained.

This was my first exposure to this author and, according to the liner notes, the first of his much-heralded Copenhagen Quartet novels to be published in the United States. That is truly a shame because such moving fiction deserves as wide an audience as possible. Kennedy’s characterizations are strong and true and his choice of having Nardo’s psychotherapist tell part of the story in the first person was quite effective. In the Company of Angels touched me in a way that few books ever have and none has in a very long time. The subject matter of this novel is sometimes difficult, but the writing is always sublime and the effort to read it is richly rewarded.