The Twin. By Gerbrand Bakker. Translated from the original Dutch by David Colmer. Harvill Secker, €21.55

In The Twin, Gerbrand Bakker’s first novel for adults, the life of a lonely bachelor farmer is etched against the narrow confines of his small farm in the Netherlands, as he reflects on his past and resolves to reshape his future.

With the news that he has ‘‘put Father upstairs’’, Helmer sits waiting for the paint to dry in his refurbished kitchen. He wryly describes himself as ‘‘a fairly old farmer . . . who has grown older every day since 1967 without anything else changing’’. Now, he stands on the cusp of significant changes.

In between decluttering the downstairs rooms of the farmhouse and tending to his livestock, Helmer reflects on his relationship with the dying man upstairs and the 37 years he has spent living the life that should have been his twin brother’s, Henk.

When Henk died in a car accident, Helmer had to abandon his studies and take his twin’s place on the farm. Even before Henk’s death, Helmer felt ‘‘left behind, alone’’, as Henk became engaged to Riet and no longer relied on the close bond with his brother.

Since Henk’s death, Helmer has felt only half a person: ‘‘I’ve been doing things by halves for so long now. For so long I’ve had just half a body. No more shoulder to shoulder, no more chest to chest, no more taking each other’s presence for granted.”

In the midst of Helmer’s soul searching, Riet appears, asking if her troubled son can stay on the farm while he works through his youthful angst.

The young boy’s presence emphasises the loneliness Helmer faces, as well as introducing an erotic subtext.

Helmer rejects the boy’s clumsy advances, while remembering his teenage years and the friendly kiss of the farmhand.

Initially, Helmer’s heartlessness towards his father is shocking and puzzling, but recollections of his father’s dour harshness over many years explain the animosity of his son towards him.

Bakker’s writing is rich with imagery and wry humour. Henk’s bedroom ‘‘has become one big gathering point for the past, and the living museum piece [h is father] in the adjacent bedroom just keeps on breathing’’.

His stream of recollections is interspersed essentially with current events, such as attending to the bodily needs of his decrepit father, attending funerals or talking to neighbours.

While Helmer realises that he has become melded to the farm, something he never wanted, he continues to long for the Danish coast, a place that has always appeared exotic and mysterious.

The unrelenting flatness of the Dutch landscape, the canals, the sails on the windmill and damp green fields all seep into the writing. So too does the decay, the suffocating smell of Helmer’s unwashed, bedridden father.

Bakker has a gift for investing daily rituals and landscape with the universal questions around identity and self worth. Helmer’s transformation affirms that it is never too late to take responsibility for one’s destiny.

This is a beautifully written book - its lustre lies in the clear simplicity of language as well as the authenticity of Helmer’s internal dialogue.

In the end, his diurnal range expands beyond the farmyard to Denmark and a journey of discovery with an old friend, who becomes his new life partner. Watching the sunset from a deserted beach, Helmer is alone - but no longer lonely.