Peter Høeg is a bestselling Danish writer who achieved great acclaim in the 1990s with Miss Smilla’s Feeling for Snow, a philosophical thriller which broke through to become an international bestseller and subsequently made into a film with Julia Ormond and Gabriel Byrne.
Of Høeg’s 6 published novels, not one of them is in a similar style or genre. I have to admit to never getting on that well with Miss Smilla’s Feeling for Snow, although most people I know loved it. However Høeg also happens to have written one of my all-time favourite books, Borderliners, and I returned to it recently to see if it was still as good as the first time I read it 12 years ago.
Plot
This is the story of Peter, Katarina and August – three damaged children in an experimental school in Copenhagen in the 1960s.
Biehl’s Academy accepts both “normal” pupils and those from various care institutions in an attempt to integrate them into “normal” society. Some of these “borderliners” are borderline in terms of mental age or ability. Others, like middle-class Katharine, perform well in tests but are extremely traumatised, in her case due to the death of her mother followed by the suicide of her father.
Into the lives of Peter and Katarina comes August, watched at all times by the teachers, not allowed to move more than a foot away from the playground wall, gassing himself on the cooker in order to sleep at night. Peter and Katarina are mystified as to why the school has taken him and Peter is worried he can’t survive school life and will be sent elsewhere, perhaps to be permanently institutionalised.
August would never learn, that I already knew. When Flage hit him that first time, he seized up; the head moved from side to side, but the body was rigid. I came up behind him, I sensed what was going to happen.
He went for Flage’s fingers, which had remained midair after he had thrown the jotter. He grabbed hold of the outer two on his left hand, but did not get a chance to break them. I stuck a thumb over each of his eyes and pulled him back.
In the course of trying to help August, Peter and Katarina decide there is some system, some “grand plan” behind the school and set out to find out what it is.
System versus Humanity
This, to me, seems to be the great overarching theme of the book. Biehl’s Academy is seen to be enlightened from the outside, but is so controlling, so sure of its rule-bound authoritarian way of bringing these children into the mainstream, that it neglects all human relationships. The school believes all things are measurable – relying on psychologists and intelligence tests to separate and categorise its pupils, deliberately destroying all independent bonds and relationships between the children.
Here is a piece of writing from the book. Katarina and Peter have formed a friendship and the school have therefore separated them. They correspond by letters, about abstract ideas. Katarina is being tested by the Binot-Simon psychology tests (an early IQ test). She is highly intelligent. Peter (who is categorised as average mental age) receives letters put into his pocket. They do not talk.
A letter came from her. It was not in her own words, it was a quote straight out of Binet-Simon. She must have learnt it by heart, just by reading it. “There was once a grasshopper, who had sung merrily all summer long. Now it was winter and he was starving. So he went to see some ants who lived nearby and asked them to lend him some of the stores they had laid up for the winter. “What have you been doing all summer,” they asked. “I have sung day and night,” replied the grasshopper. “Ah, so you have sung,” said the ants. “Well, now you can dance.”
Beneath this she had written: “What is the moral?”…
…At the time I had been given this story I had been close to answering that the moral was, ants are not helpful. But this would not have fitted in well with the other problems. Instead I had sussed out Hessen and then I had said that the moral was that one must make hay whilst the sun shines.”
It becomes clearer as you read Borderliners, how inappropriate this system and whole way of thinking is for these children – whose experiences have been so far from “normal”. Peter tells us you must develop a strategy. Passing intelligence tests is not about honesty or about what you really think – it is about survival. And themes of evolution and survival of the fittest come into the book again and again.
Peter’s urge to survive is strong but some of the children he talks of – both at the school and in his carehomes – do not have the wish to survive enough to construct a strategy. They are classed as lunatic or moronic and their chances in life taken away from them altogether.
What Hoeg is talking about is how we judge, categorise and label people. How, by doing this, we can end up imprisoning them forever. What damaged children need are not systems, authority, assessment and judgement; but love, connection, humanity, individual understanding.
Style and Form
What some people find frustrating about this book is what makes it particularly special to me. That it is mysterious, enigmatic. That it doesn’t fully define and explain. Partly, I think this is deliberate – that Høeg is refusing to define, label and categorise as Biehl’s Academy does. Partly, it is because the character, Peter, is at sea. He is a child without a place, without explanation. But he is never allowed access to his own files. There are gaps in his knowledge and understanding and gaps in his record.
But it is this same mysterious enigmatic quality – both about the background and in the writing itself – that allows you, as a reader, to really explore the issues. In yearning to understand the mystery, you end up engaging more fully with the themes, and – what’s more – in an emotional rather than an intellectual way.
The unusual narrative structure is also controversial. Made up of short pieces, sometimes in the present, sometimes in the past, it is as though Høeg is deliberately trying to sidestep time with his structure, as though to communicate his character’s discomfort with the linearity of time itself.
The Theme of Time
One of the difficulties some critics and readers seem to have with the book are the sections on time.
The main character’s philosophising about time irritates some who view these sections to be unnecessary, even pretentious. For me, Høeg is trying, straining to capture something, express something that is, perhaps, not so much intellectual as emotional.
Peter, the narrator, is oppressed by time. Time is what is used to control him, regulate him, stop him thinking. It is only in the gaps between time that he feels he can have his own thoughts, ideas – and most importantly – relationships. The other characters, too, have difficulty with time. Time is not only control but represents trauma, memories, damage. Time becomes synonymous with emotional pain.
Autobiographical Elements?
There is a note of bitterness and real anger in Høeg’s writing.
The fact that the main character is called Peter and he is eventually adopted by people called “Høeg” is even more frustratingly intriguing. Is there an autobiographical element? Is the Peter of the novel the writer or is it a fictional Peter, a person the writer might have been? Or is it both? When I was younger I wondered and wondered, now I scour the internet desperate to find out what truth there is to these experiences outlined. But I find nothing but a few other people speculating about the same thing.
Parallel of the Present and Past
The main story of the children at Biehl’s academy is offset by sections where the main character in the present talks of The Woman and The Child – his family in the present, we assume. We see how Peter struggles with his role in the present when he has experienced nothing but an institutionalised life. The Woman leaves him with The Child and he is terrified. He cannot offer her anything. He does not know how to behave. He feels useless. He cannot relate.
Little by little, the bonds are forged. Putting paid to both his own difficulties and also the assumptions – those categorisations – of his past. We find out that the system has decided that he can never form stable and significant relationships. Yet, all the way through the book we see him forming relationships, but it is the system itself that deliberately sets out to break them.
The past and the present become a mirror of each other: Peter, Katarina and August become Himself, The Woman and The Child. And the message of the book is clear. To survive, to be human, you need human relationships – not systems. You need to be understood – not categorised. You need to be seen not judged. You need to be cared about. Loved.
The ending of the book packs a huge emotional punch and I have rarely felt so much for a set of characters. August is a towering character in the form of a tiny boy. He has remained vividly in my head ever since first reading this book. August’s story provides the huge dramatic climax to the book whilst in the present, a different outcome leads us forwards.
More than a decade on and book seems as powerful to me as ever. This is an angry, beautiful, profound and moving book. It makes us feel rather than intellectualise about a subject that is still as relevant – how we, as a society treat our “problem” people. How we judge rather than care. How those on the borderline can survive or be lost to us.
And how we fail them.
The Harvill Press; New Ed edition (4 April 1996), 252pp. ISBN: 1860461433. Translated from the Danish by Barbara Haveland.



Just want to apologise in advance for such a ridiculously long post – and this was the cut-down version!!
I’m still hoping to track down “The Quiet Girl”, another book by Høeg which I believe Leena reviewed last year. This one sounds just as fascinating…
Wow, could you have made Borderliners sound any more enticing? Excellent review. Sounds like a totally unique book that will stand the test of time. There’s an interview with Høeg here:
http://www.podstantsiya.ru/?area=posts&id=361
If you scroll down, you’ll see the English transcript.
Some interesting information about Høeg’s life and career here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_H%C3%B8eg and here:
http://www.ambwashington.um.dk/en/menu/InformationaboutDenmark/Culture/Literature/PeterH%C3%B8eg.htm
It seems he started a foundation called The Lolwe Foundation. From the ambwashington link:
“The word Lolwe is the East African Luo Tribe’s word for the infinite space, seen in the west across Lake Victoria, where the sky meets the water and beyond which lies the world of the Gods. The purpose of the Lolwe Foundation, which is a non-profit organization, is to help Third World women and children with financial support and Peter Høeg donated all of his profits from the sale of his book The Woman and the Ape to this organization.”
He seems like a fascinating person.
Hey thanks for the interview, Lisa. I should add that into the post at some point. He is certainly unusual. I think that in Denmark he’s been awarded a kind of salary for life kind of thing so presumably he doesn’t need to live off proceeds from books. But I read he is very cut-off in terms of technology (I doubt he’ll be popping up on Vulpes soon more the pity) and doesn’t seem to invite intrusion or fame.
Thanks for commenting, Trilby – I must look for Leena’s review and link it. I have been thinking a lot after our last conversation on Monica Janssen’s piece about mislit versus literature about misery
http://vulpeslibris.wordpress.com/2008/06/12/thursday-soapbox-monica-janssens-has-the-misery-memoir-reached-the-end-of-the-road/ –
as Borderliners has a lot of elements that , with a wildly different treatment – could go into classic mislit. (Not that Borderliners would ever be defined as Mislit. Although I do wonder what sort of cover they’d put on it these days…;).
But after thinking about Borderliners so much I did start to realise why I have problems with mislit. Because the other name for Mislit is Inspirlit – or Inspiring Literature. I have a problem with this. That the genre requires a certain message: triumph over adversity, the individual winning over terrible background by force of will…etc…etc. But the trouble with this is that doesn’t it negate our responsibility as a society? Doesn’t it fail to ask proper questions? Isn’t it part of the bogie-man myth – that problems exist by evil people doing evil deeds and its nothing to do with the rest of us…?
As soon as a genre requires a certain message (rather than form), I find there is a problem for me…
Great review, Rosy. You’ve certainly made me want to read it. Like you I read Miss Smilla and I wasn’t overly thrilled by it, at least not enough to want to look up other books of his. But now I will.
Hi Rosy
Good review – I’ll try to find Borderliners. I read The Woman and The Ape, maybe ten years ago, and enjoyed it hugely. I also did not get on with Miss Smilla – but I was given it at a time when everyone was supposed to find it remarkable, and I was feeling in a rebellious mood, I think. But all I can really recall now was that I found it s l o w. Whereas The Woman and The Ape is fun and imaginative so I can recommend it with no reservations.
Catheryn
Thanks for commenting Mary and Catheryn. Mary, I think you might get a lot out of this book. I was wondering about you and Jackie and disturbing subject-matter, but there is nothing gratuitous or dwelt on and I think you would enjoy the ideas side.
I have never read The Woman and The Ape, Catheryn. I think the trouble is when you love a book that you pick up others by the same author and are disappointed if they are of different styles and all Hoeg’s work is in different styles.
But, on what you say, it sounds interesting. And I might see if I can get my hands on a copy. Thanks for the recommendation!
Just when I told myself that I would not buy another book until I worked my way through my towering To Be Read pile, you write this post. I have added it to my list and will get my hands on a copy as soon as possible.
I read all of this author’s works that I could find about 10 years ago, Smilla, Woman and Ape and this one. He has a really unusual view of the world, but accessible and I found myself agreeing with a lot of his points. This book I found disturbing, though your review almost makes me want to revisit it. Thanks for a well thought out post, I didn’t mind the length at all.
Oh dear – I began reading this, but then I had to return it to the library, and now you made me want to pick it up again straight away. Harrumph.
Will have to get it back asap – it sounds so fascinating!
I didn’t get far, but the mysterious school environment reminded me of ‘Never Let me Go’ a bit.
I found “Miss Smilla” very curate’s eggish. It was recommended to me by someone who said that the lead character reminded her of me. I’ve never been sure whether that was a compliment or not …
However, I’ve never been tempted to try another book by Høeg, until now … You’ve intrigued me.
I’m not sure if its something in the water, but it is refreshing to come across someone else that has heard of and read anything by Peter Høeg. I read Smilla’s Sense of Snow when I was 14th, and I think I read everything else of his I could my hands on before I even got my driver’s license. I loved your review of the book, and it just makes me want to pick this book up again and give it another read through. I can only suggest picking up a History Of Danish Dreams, by Høeg, if you haven’t yet. I think that’s my absolute favorite of all his works.
Thanks so much for commenting everyone!
I’ve always been interested to see what you think of it, Leena. But perhaps if the style didn’t grab, it’s not going to be your sort of thing. I know quite a few people who didn’t get on with it. You know – favourite books and all – never a totally rational business, eh?
Moira – surely that is a compliment!
And thanks Rants (love the name of your blog). I haven’t read A History of Danish Dreams because of that problem I was talking about earlier – wanting more of the same and being disappointed. But I think there’s been enough of a gap now for me to discover a different Hoeg altogether. You’ve convinced me to get it now. Thanks for that!
No, Rosy, it did grab me – only I’d started reading it a bit late, as I had to take it back the following day, and somebody had reserved it so I couldn’t check it out again either. Harrumph…
By the way, Trilby, I haven’t read The Quiet Girl so you must be thinking of somebody else’s review! It is on my list though…
[...] Borderliners by Peter Hoeg. I reviewed this for Vulpes and I love it. I think officially it did pretty well at the time but is less well-known than Miss Smilla’s Feeling for Snow and I’ve met hardly anyone who has read it. So I’m out to change that and spread the word about it for a second time. [...]
Hi Rosy and friends,
I am also a reader of Peter Høeg. I knew the interview with russian press and what I love about it is the fact that I heard his voice and especially the way to prononce his last name!
Regarding the books, well, I am a fervent admirer of Smilla. That being said, I read Borderline and your critic is right on the money Rosy. You are very good at pointing out the main ideas in such a philosophical book. The emotions are raw and sometimes I wanted to add a rescue hero in the story.
I read A History of Danish dream and I found it excellent. It shows so much Høeg’s rich and open mind. It is a thrill.
The Quiet Girl has all the elements of greatness yet I am not sure how to rate it. I have to read it again. The plot is a bit confusing to me. But you can have so much with this writer that the plot is not everything.
So long and thank you.