To grieve, to pine

In Vigdis Hjorth’s novels, to be functional is to be underwhelming. In Long Live the Post Horn!, for instance, (published in 2012 in Norwegian, translated into English in 2020), the protagonist receives from her boyfriend (himself underwhelming), the « shared present » of a well-reviewed vibrator. The wrapping is enticing, maybe, « in glossy black paper with a purple ribbon », but the maiden voyage is not so successful:

It took longer than usual for him to come, then he rolled over and took the gadget out of me, it continued to hum and vibrate, he tried to turn it off but couldn’t, he held it up under the lamp on the bedside table again, the humming was louder now, he still wasn’t able to turn it off, finally he got up and put it in the hall, but we could still hear it, he got up again and put it even further away, maybe in the kitchen drawer.

The vibrator is a gadget, and in the worst sense: gimmicky, in poor taste, both garish (it is purple) and coldly functional. That’s what makes it egregious: it is too reliable, performing recognisably even when there’s nothing to perform on. It’s not the relationship’s only underwhelming gadget; she’s not long ago received an engagement ring.