Kirsten Thorup's Baby introduces us to strangers, the outsiders: misfits, deviants, losers, the powerless, those at the bottom of the social hierarchy. They are the other side of the coin, the failures. The novel opens in the Mexicana, a cheap nightclub in the Vesterbro district of Copenhagen, where several acquaintances are gathered together in a meaningless, hand-to-mouth companionship. When the club closes, they go their own ways, never to return to the club again a dispersion that gives the book its basic pattern of wandering and aimlessness and no neatly rounded closing of the circle. Their tracts zigzag through the city. We follow Mark, the untalented auto salesman with the Orson Welles profile who is heavily in debt and does not know how to get out, home to his money-grubbing wife who get household income by selling herself to the loan shark who has Mark in his clutches. We follow...
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