Kristin Lavransdatter (edition 1974)

So I guess this is a classic of some sort? And this is apparently the translation to go with.

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I had so many ideas about this book, was looking forward to read it very much. When I started, the first pages already gave me an 'oh-oh' feeling, usually that means it'll be a tough one.

And it was. It was so tough, that I got to page 100 with difficulty. The English was difficult to read, I did not get into the story and the 'heroin' did not take me with her on her journey.

All in all, I abandoned this book :-( I always regret doing that, but sometimes there's no other solution.

When I see all the stars other readers gave this book, I might consider reading the Dutch translation, if I can lay hands on one that is. When I do, I'll get back here and tell what I think of that one. ( )

Ok, first off I didn't finish this book, not even close.
Second, I LIKE this book, but...

Every time I picked it up, I sat down determined to catch up to the lovely people in the group I was reading it with. However, 10 minutes later, the book would make me so tense I was like one of those unpopular people in a suspenseful movie who yells at the helpless and somewhat obviously doomed character to "NOT LOOK IN THE DAMN BASEMENT!"

No joke. Every. Single. Time.

There's a point where you know that it's just not happening, and I reached it.

However, I DO intend to return to this book. Someday. ( )

Sigrid Undset’s fourteenth century Norway is a place of breathtaking, yet dangerous beauty, where vast geographical distances separate settlements and farms, relationships and interactions are governed by a complicated array of social conventions, and myth and superstition live alongside the official Catholicism. Lineage, land and family reputation are the legacies left to offspring. Religion features prominently in daily life and monks wander the countryside, while elves, trolls and goblins live in the forest and under rocks, and the spirits of the deceased are never far away. Living and meal arrangements are largely communal and strong codes of hospitality prevail. Ale is a staple of the household for both adults and children, and is even given to horses on occasion. But there is little that is sentimental in the hardness of these times, with tragedy ever-present and stoically accepted. Death is a frequent outcome of childbirth and illness. Both adults and children must contribute to the constant labor necessary to support a household. Even prosperous but overburdened parents may elect for a child to be raised by foster parents. The distances involved in travel require long periods of parental absence from the family household. Violence is common and landowners are entitled to protect themselves with physical force.

Undset’s masterwork trilogy excels as historical fiction that is richly revealing of the customs, beliefs and daily life of medieval Norwegian society. Meant to be read as a whole, its three volumes flow seamlessly together in a straightforward but layered narrative that explores the inner lives of its protagonists, the hopes, conflicts and disappointments inherent to passion and marriage, and the stresses of a society transitioning from pagan to Christian values. Undset’s two major works based in medieval Norway, the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy and The Master of Hestviken tetralogy, were recognized by the Nobel Committee in awarding her the Prize for Literature in 1928, for her portrayal of ideals that contributed to the development of Germanic culture.

The Wreath introduces Kristin Lavransdatter as the beautiful daughter of Lavrans Bjorgulfson, a widely respected and influential farmer and landowner, and his wife Ragnfrid, moody, reclusive and suffering from depression following the loss of three infant sons. Kristin’s childhood and adolescence follow the expected path to her betrothal at age fifteen to Simon Andresson, the handsome and promising son of a neighboring landowner. But despite being relatively privileged, she is not shielded from hard work and harsh realities, and the course of her life is changed abruptly by events that unfairly bring the derision of the villagers upon her. Sent to temporarily board at a convent, Kristin meets and is seduced by Erlend Nikulausson, a handsome but reckless and impulsive man who has been ex-communicated by the Church for his relationship with a married woman, with whom he has two children. Struggling against her strong attachment to her father, Kristin seeks to end her betrothal to Simon and win permission to wed Erlend, while complicity in a death and the shame of hidden pregnancy foreshadow the turbulence of their union.

The Wife follows the years of Kristin and Erlend’s tumultuous, yet passionate marriage, the birth and upbringing of seven sons, and Erlend’s increasing entanglement with the country’s politics. Forced to assume responsibility for Erlend’s ill-managed estate, while experiencing the difficulties of childbirth and Erlend’s irresponsibility and frequent absences, Kristin becomes increasingly ambivalent and bitter regarding her marriage. The storyline seems to meander through these years, at times feeling a bit overlong as marital and family relationships develop, deteriorate and reconcile, child after child is born and raised, loved ones die, and the intrigue of political conspiracy is introduced.

It is in this second volume that the depth of Undset’s many characters emerges, the intensity of their thoughts and emotions skillfully revealed alongside the vivid details of landscape, everyday objects and daily activities. Kristin and Ragnfrid are strong, capable women, but dependent upon their marriages and children for their identity and reason for living. Both are disgraced as fallen women, having not been maidens at their marriage, and both bear the disappointment of husbands whom they love passionately, but who will never fulfill their emotional needs. Lavrans and Simon represent the strength and morality of a traditional society that rewards adherence to hard work, duty and faith. Erlend is the perpetually overgrown adolescent, charming but unreliable, whose individualism clashes with the collectivism of medieval society. But as different as Lavrans and Erlend seem, they share a restlessness, a need for the adventure of wilderness and sea. Erlend loves Kristin passionately, but he finds life with his wife and children suffocating.

Now he longed only to go away to that strife-torn place. He yearned madly and wildly for that remote promontory and for the thundering sea surrounding the forelands of the north, for the endless coastline and the enormous fjords which could conceal all manner of traps and deceptions, for the people whose language he understood only slightly, for their sorcery and inconstancy and cunning, for war and the sea, and for the singing of weapons, both his own and his men’s.

Even the deeply religious and reliable Lavrans harbors a secret resentment for having been forced at a young age to marry Ragnfrid, an older woman whom he did not love. ”He had been a good husband to her , he believed that himself… He had simply wanted to live with her without her always trying to seize what was in his heart- and what he refused to reveal.” Undset’s many secondary characters are drawn with equal care, notable among them being Kristin’s seven sons and Brother Edvin, whose wisdom and simple joy contrasts with the storyline’s dark, haunting adversity.

In The Cross, a mature Kristin sets forth to atone for her moral failings. Erlend’s estate has become the price for his release from political imprisonment and the family must return to Kristin’s childhood farm, only to again experience rejection by the townspeople amidst marital separation, accusations of adultery, and the death in infancy of an eighth son. It is in this final book that Undset focuses most clearly on the theme of religion and redemption. Ambivalent in her faith, yet seeking purpose following Erlend’s death and the scattering of her grown children, Kristin sets forth on a pilgrimage to become a lay member of the convent. It is here that she makes her final atonement, among the ravages of the Black Death.

Surely she had never asked God for anything except that he should let her have her will. And every time she had been granted what she asked for - for the most part. Now here she sat with a contrite heart - not because she had sinned against God but because she was unhappy that she had been allowed to follow her will to the road’s end.

She had not come to God with her wreath or with her sins and sorrows, not as long as the world still possessed a drop of sweetness to add to her goblet. But now she had come, after she had learned that the world is like an alehouse: The person who has no more to spend is thrown outside the door.

Highly recommended. ( )

Kristin Lavransdatter has three volumes: The Bridal Wreath, the Wife and the Cross. I decided to read The Wreath in June, The Wife in July and The Cross in August. I'll be editing this review after each volume.

I read this book because a) June is the best time to visit Norway and b) June is the best month to get married (or divorced) in and Kristin is about the marriage of Kristin...eventually. The book starts with "The Bridal Wreath." When we first meet Kristin she is a very young child traveling with her father across Norway. In true 14th century fashion Kristin is betrothed to a wealthy, reputable man on a neighboring plot of land. As Kristin grows up she becomes increasingly rebellious, so much so that when she is nearly raped her community has doubts about who is telling the truth. As a result her family decides to send Kristin away to a convent to hide out until the rumors die down. While at this convent she falls in love with the dashing Erlend, a man who has reputation problems of his own. Excommunicated by the Catholic church because of an affair with a married woman, Erlend manages to seduce Kristin as well. Before they can be married Kristin becomes pregnant. The title of this section of Kristin Lavransdatter is in regards to the wreath she is supposed to wear on her wedding day. It is to signify virginity but Kristin wears it with shame, too embarrassed to tell anyone it is a lie. ( )