Introduction

How deeply can you love when your heart is full of secrets?

A sweeping, propulsive family story about a woman learning to love, from the bustle of New York’s fashion scene to a remote, windswept Swedish island, by the acclaimed author of The Red Address Book—“a love letter to the human heart” (Alyson Richman).

By age 50, Elin Boals has created for herself a perfect life: her wildly successful business as Manhattan’s preeminent fashion photographer is flourishing. Her handsome, patient husband is devoted to her; her teenaged daughter, Alice, has been accepted to the ballet academy of her dreams. But then Elin receives an innocuous looking envelope. Folded inside is a star-chart, with an address written by a familiar hand.

Shaken, Elin begins to have startling flashbacks, to a life very different from the childhood in a Paris bookstore that she has so lovingly recounted to Alice. In these images, a poverty-stricken little girl cares for her two ragged baby brothers, laughing with her family on the good days, sheltering them from her mother’s sadness and her father’s wrath on the bad days. Elin also remembers vivid walks with a young classmate, Fredrik, whose steadfast friendship and starlit confidences shaped her young life. As Elin becomes consumed by these memories, though, her New York life begins to crumble dramatically. Finally, her family’s troubling questions drive her to face, at last, the brutal secret from her past.

At once a heartwarming family story and a page-turning mystery, A Question Mark Is Half a Heart traces a surprising journey across continents to reconciliation, and toward finding a true sense of home.

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Excerpt

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New York, 2017

It’s dusk. Outside the industrial windows, the sun is setting behind the tall buildings. Stubborn rays wedge their way between the facades; like golden spearheads they penetrate the encroaching darkness. Evening again. Elin hasn’t eaten dinner at home in several weeks. She won’t to- night, either. She turns to look at the building just a few blocks away, where she can see the luxuriant vegetation on her very own roof terrace, the red parasol, and the barbecue that’s already been lit. A narrow col- umn of smoke rises toward the sky.

She catches a glimpse of someone, probably Sam or Alice. Or maybe a friend who’s come over to visit. All she can see is a figure moving about purposefully between the plants.

They’re sure to be waiting for her again at home. In vain.

Behind her, people move back and forth across the studio floor. A gray-blue backdrop hangs from a steel fixture, swooping from wall to floor. A chaise longue upholstered in gold brocade has been placed in the center. On it, a beautiful woman reclines, with strands of pearls around her neck. She’s wearing a wide, flowing white-tulle skirt that spreads across the floor. Her upper body is glossy with oil, and the chunky pearl necklaces cover her naked breasts. Her lips are red, her skin smoothed to perfection with layers of makeup.

Two assistants are correcting the light: they raise and lower the big light boxes, click the camera shutter, read the meters, start again. Be- hind the assistants stands a team of stylists and makeup artists. They carefully observe every detail of the image that’s in the process of being created. They’re dressed in black. Everyone is dressed in black, everyone but Elin. She’s wearing a red dress. Red like blood, red like life. Red like the evening sun outside the window.

Elin is torn from her thoughts as the beautiful woman, growing irri- tated, begins to make dissatisfied noises.

“What’s taking so long? I’m not going to be able to hold this pose much longer. Hey! Can we get started now?”

She sighs and twists her body into a more comfortable position, and the necklaces fall to the side and reveal her nipple, which is hard and blue. Two stylists are on the spot immediately, patiently and carefully rearranging the pearls to cover it. Some of the necklaces are stuck down with double-sided clear tape, and the woman’s skin rises in goose bumps from the contact. She sighs audibly and rolls her eyes, the only part of her body she’s free to move.

A man in a suit, the woman’s agent, walks over to Elin. He smiles po- litely, leans toward her, and whispers, “We’d better get started, she’s get- ting impatient and it won’t end well.”

Elin shakes her head vaguely and looks back to the window. She sighs.

“We can stop now if she wants. I’m sure we have enough pictures al- ready, it’s just a spread this time, not a cover.”

The agent holds up his hands and stares at her hard. “No, absolutely not. We’ll do this one too.”

Elin tears herself away from the view of her home and walks toward the camera. Her telephone vibrates in her pocket; she knows who’s try- ing to reach her but doesn’t respond. Knows the message will just play on her conscience. Knows the people at home are disappointed.

As soon as Elin gets behind the camera, a thousand tiny stars light up in the woman’s eyes; her back straightens, her lips pout. Her hair falls back as she lightly shakes her head, and it ripples in the gentle breeze from the fan. She’s a star, and Elin is too. Soon only the two of them exist, they’re absorbed in each other. Elin shoots and instructs, the woman laughs and flirts with her. Behind them the team applauds. The rush of creativity pounds through Elin’s veins.

Several hours pass before Elin finally forces herself to leave the stu- dio and all the new shots requiring her attention on the computer. Her phone is full of missed calls and annoyed texts. From Sam, from Alice.

When are you going to be here? Where are you Mom?

She scrolls through but doesn’t read all the words. She hasn’t the strength. She lets the taxis pass her in the vibrant Manhattan night. The asphalt still feels warm from the sun’s heat as she crosses the street. She walks slowly, past beautiful young people who laugh loudly, intoxicated. Sees other people sitting on the street, dirty, vulnerable. It’s a long time since she walked home, even though it’s so close. A long time since she moved beyond the walls of the gym, the studio, her home. The paving stones are uneven beneath her heels and she walks slowly, noting every detail along the way. Her own street, Orchard Street, lies deserted in the night, empty of people, empty of cars. It’s grimy and rough, like all the streets of the Lower East Side. She loves it, the contrast between out- side and inside, between shabbiness and luxury. She takes a step into the lobby, passes the slumbering doorman unnoticed, and presses the but- ton for the elevator. But when the doors open, she hesitates and turns around. She wants to stay out, to linger in the pulsating night. The oth- ers have probably gone to sleep anyway.

She unlocks her mailbox and takes the stack of letters to the restau- rant a few doors down, the local she often goes to after late shoots. Once there, she orders a glass of 1982 Bordeaux. The waiter shakes his head.

“Nineteen eighty-two, we don’t serve that by the glass. We have only a few bottles. That shit’s exclusive. A good year.

Elin shifts uncomfortably in her chair.

“Depends how you look at it. But I’m happy to pay for a bottle. Give me the wine, thanks — I’m worth it. It’s got to be the 1982.”

“All right, you’re worth it.” The waiter rolls his eyes. “We’re closing soon, by the way.”

Elin nods.

“Don’t worry, I drink fast.”

She fingers the letters, laying aside the sealed envelopes until one catches her attention. The postmark is from Visby, the stamp Swedish. Her name has been written by hand in capitals, carefully spelled out in blue ink. She opens the envelope and unfolds the sheet of paper within. It’s some kind of star chart and on it her name is printed, in large ornate type. She holds her breath, reading the Swedish words above it.

On this day, a star was named Elin.

She reads the line again and again in the unfamiliar language. A long string of coordinates denotes the star’s precise whereabouts in the heav- ens.

A star someone has bought for her. Her very own star, which now bears her name. It must be from . . . can it really be . . . him, who sent it? She puts the brakes on her own thoughts, doesn’t even want to pro- nounce the name to herself. But she can picture his face clearly, his smile too.

Her heart is hammering in her chest. She pushes the chart away. Stares at it. Then she gets up and runs out into the street to look up at the sky, but she can see only a dark-blue featureless mass above the buildings. It’s never truly dark in New York, never enough to see the meandering muddle of the stars. The tall buildings of Manhattan al- most touch the sky, but down on the streets it just feels distant. She goes in again. The waiter is standing by her seat, waiting, wine bottle in hand. He pours a splash into her glass and she downs it without notic- ing how it tastes. With an impatient wave of the hand she indicates that he should refill it, and takes two more large gulps. Then she picks up the star chart again and turns the shiny paper this way and that. In the bot- tom corner, against the dark background, someone has written in gold marker:

I saw your picture in a magazine. You look just the same. Long time no see. Get in touch!

F

And underneath, an address. Elin feels her stomach cramp when she sees the place of origin. She can’t stop looking at it, her eyes filling with tears. She follows the contours of the letter F with her index finger and mouths his name. Fredrik.

Her mouth feels dry. She reaches for the wineglass and empties it.

Then she calls the waiter over, loudly.

“Hello! Can I get a large glass of milk? I’m so thirsty, suddenly.” view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

1. What was inside the package sent to Elin by Fredrik Grinde? What is Elin’s relationship to the sender and what does the gift represent for her? What effect does the receipt of it have on Elin? Why does she try to hide the gift from her husband Sam? When Sam discovers it, how does he react? Were you surprised by his response? Why or why not?

2. In addition to the gift from Fredrik, what other secrets has Elin been keeping from her husband and daughter? How does her past differ from the one she has represented to Sam and Alice over the years? Why did she choose to keep these aspects of her life secret rather than telling the truth? Do you think that she made the right choice? How do you think Sam might have reacted if Elin had told the truth from the beginning?

3. Consider Elin’s relationship to her career. Why does she spend so much time working and how does this affect her relationship with her husband and daughter? Do you think that Sam and Alice’s complaints about how much time Elin dedicates to her work are valid? Why or why not? What does Elin confess that her job has really been about? What ceases when she is taking photographs?

4. As Alice talks about her own passion with Elin, what important question does she pose about passion versus escapism? What does the book ultimately suggest about work-life balance and about commitment and dedication versus diversion or avoidance?

5. How does the novel deal with the subject of abuse? What kinds of abuses are Elin and other characters in the book subjected to? How do they cope with this? What long-term impact does this seem to have on Elin? Is she ever able to come to terms with this and heal from the traumas she has experienced? If so, how? What does the book suggest about cycles of abuse? Why is Elin so upset that her daughter compares her to her mother?

6. Consider how the book creates a dialogue about poverty. What is daily life like for Elin and her siblings? Why did Elin’s father end up in prison and what further strains does this place on the family and on Elin as a young caretaker? Why does Elin’s mother refer to even the children as little criminals? Is the family ever able to surmount their financial struggles?

7. Explore the author’s characterization of Elin’s parents. Would you say that they were drawn sympathetically by the author? Did you feel any sympathy towards either character? Why or why not? What kinds of mistakes do Elin’s parents make and how does this impact their family? How is their characterization influenced by Elin’s point of view and the depictions of her love and care for them?

8. Where does the title of the book come from? What does “a question mark is half a heart” mean? What does it suggest about the major themes of love and intimacy? Does the book ever answer the question: Can one truly love and be loved while keeping secrets?

9. Why did Elin flee her childhood home? How does her view of these events change after she returns to her childhood home in Sweden? What surprising truths does Elin learn about the tragedy that led to her leaving the island? How does she respond to these revelations? What is Elin’s reunion with her family in Sweden like? Were you surprised by her interactions with her mother? Why or why not? How does the visit give Elin clarity about her own family situation?

10. Explore the theme of reconciliation. How does the book answer the question of how reconciliation is achieved? What does it entail? How does Elin come to reconcile with her difficult past and with members of her own family? Is she forgiven by her husband and her daughter? Is she ever able to forgive herself?


About the Author

Sofia Lundberg is a journalist and former magazine editor. She is the author of A Question Mark is Half a Heart (2018) and The Red Address Book (2017). Her debut novel The Red Address Book, published in more than 28 countries, was shortlisted for the Suomalainen kirjakauppa Book of the Year Award in Finland and LovelyBooks’ Der Leserpreis, the largest readers’ choice book award in the German-speaking region. Lundberg resides in Stockholm.

Suggestions for Further Reading

Backman, Fredrik. Britt-Marie Was Here
Friedland, Elyssa. The Intermission
Giffin, Emily. Where We Belong
Jackson, Stina. The Silver Road
Ng, Celeste. Everything I Never Told You
Reed, Deborah. Pale Morning Light with Violet Swan
Semple, Maria. Where’d You Go, Bernadette?
Wolitzer, Meg. This Is My Life

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