The first book I remember that took me out with its prose (in a good way) was Hjalmar Söderbergs “Doctor Glas”. While I read it in the original swedish, I think that the english translation is just as beautiful:

“Thought is an acid, eating us away. At first we imagine it will only eat into that which is rotten and sick and must be removed. But thought thinks otherwise. It eats blindly. It begins with the prey you most gladly throw to it - but don’t imagine it will be content with that! It doesn’t stop until it has gnawed away the last thing you hold dear.”

“We know so little about one another. We embrace a shadow and love a dream.“

“People want to be loved; failing that admired; failing that feared; failing that hated and despised. They want to evoke some sort of sentiment. The soul shudders before oblivion and seeks connection at any price.”

I couldn’t find the translation of my favourite passage, so I’ll just post it in swedish and try to translate it myself:

“God natt, du onda kraft. Sov gott i din lilla runda dosa. Sov, tills jag behöver dig; så vitt det beror på mig skall jag icke väcka upp dig i otid. Det regnar i dag, men i morgon skiner kanske solen. Och först om den dagen gryr, då själva solskenet tyckes mig förpestat och sjukt, skall jag väcka dig för att få sova själv.“ (my translation: Sleep well, you force of evil. Sleep well in your little round box. Sleep until I need you; So far as it depends on me, I will not wake you up untimely. It is raining today, but tomorrow the sun may be shining. And only if that day dawns, when the very sunshine seems to me to be poisonous and sick, will I awaken you to sleep myself")

At the end of the day, the swedish academy are simply 18 literature nerds who meet and discuss what books they like over glasses of wine. For all its prestige, I don’t think the Nobel prize for literature should be taken as some sort of “literary canon”