Helmer is a farmer: a bachelor who lives in the shadow of his dead twin’s memory. His days revolved around his animals; watching canoeists in the canal; conversations with his father, his neighbour Ada and her two boys. He’s also resigned to the fact that he’ll never be the perfect son. That he’s always been more like a superfluous appendage of twins than a person. After his mother dies, he’s left to look after his invalid father alone. He moves him to an upstairs room and begins painting the house. A letter from his late brother’s fiancé changes everything. He soon has a new farmhand, Riet’s son, Henk. Still, he wonders: what exactly is Riet’s motive?

This is an absolutely beautiful work set within the melancholy landscape of a drizzly Dutch winter. The sense of isolation and loneliness is virtually palpable. It’s bleak, at times eerie, like the hooded crow that permanently presides over old van Wonderen’s window. A deeply introspective novel that speaks to one’s innermost voice. The one that ultimately helps Helmer find peace. If you expect to find a gripping plot, you won’t. The Twin is about finding one’s self.