My Struggle: Book Six

At long last I have reached the final page of this saga. As I've mulled over the full experience experience of the work, 1-6, the overarching subject is the emergence of a human (male) (artist) from childhood to maturity. At the same time Knausgaard assumes that while his is particular and further tempered by his personality, he is nonetheless the same in the essentials as everyone else. K believes (and I agree) that human society demands that we not be open about many aspects of our life experiences--even if what is taboo shifts and changes through time and cultures--so that early on we are taught to dissemble, hide, outright lie etcetera, about things we have done or not done that are not 'the norm' and we do not tell the truth about show more our experiences or how we feel about them.

He attempts to do so here. Ambitious in both the good and bad senses of the word (as in, a worthy endeavour/doomed to failure) So much of the writing in the previous five books had a transparency and flow--I mean simple language, simple sentences, often simple subject matter too. It's easy to scoff and mutter that all he is doing is writing about himself and anybody could do that. But that's the point: WE TURN EVERYTHING WE EXPERIENCE OR FEEL INTO A STORY, A FICTION. And it is impossible not to skew that story in our favor.

Humans crave coherence, need to maintain order in our heads as well as in our homes. Some argue that a biography says more about the writer of the biography than the subject. An autobiography is naturally skewed and we expect and forgive (especially if there are a few unflattering stories to give an impression of balance). A novel can be more truthful than either of the above by honing in on the actual experience creating a person who doesn't 'exist' and therefore doesn't have to observe any norms. (Well, usually there are repercussions for that individual within the novel itself for violating those norms, but we get to be in the person's head meanwhile.)

This need to create order is arguably one of the most distinguishing characteristics of homo sapiens. Not a necessity, but a compulsion.

This final novel brings clarity to the whole. The structure of Book 6 while anchored to a particular time period in K's life (he's around forty, the oldest child is 6ish and about to start 'real' school) is loosely threefold.

First. The issues of the public and family response to the books that have emerged so far (that was confusing to me as here the books came out more slowly)--in particular K's conflict with his uncle over whether he was telling 'the truth' about his father's death and his subsequent role in the aftermath. All else aside, K has violated a norm and has dragging the family name through a tragedy and a disgraceful ending that should have been kept secret.

The second part involves a close look first, at a particular poem by Celan and then at the earlier part of Hitler's life. In the poem K explores Celan's theme--the chilling question, so central to Hitler's success, of turning individuals 'someones' into 'no ones', from 'we' to 'they' and from there to 'other' and therefore not having any rights as human beings at all. Hitler, the frustrated artist, grew up to be a man driven to try to make the vision of a perfect order, the fantasy that sustains him, in his brain come true. He was a man who found his true home and calling in the orderliness of the army life in WWI. K is, of course, putting together his own version of how Hitler came to be but I would say he tries to work forwards making an effort to figure out what the hell went so wrong for this man as a child and young man that he felt obliged/inspired/driven to murder millions of people as a kind of living nightmare/fantasy made manifest, instead of painting landscapes and designing buildings.

Getting through this section of the book was an ordeal. I could not read more than ten or so pages about Hitler at a time and that meant slow going. I felt tainted also reading the actual quotes from Mein Kampf.

K is not comparing himself to Hitler -- not even remotely -- or maybe possibly as an example of the artist gone bad in the most extreme manifestation. (Ok, I am simplifying). There are many questions embedded here, among them the most disturbing: We seem to have to make some individuals into nobodies in order to feel like a somebody. This is possibly the single scariest and tragic aspect of the human psyche.

In the third and last section K returns to his 'ordinary' family life, as he grinds along trying to finish this very last book, his wife succumbs to a major bipolar episode alternating between pure chaos and pure absence. Some feel the episode is triggered by his 'success' overshadowing her own writing life. Well, maybe, but I think it has just as much to do with having had three children bing bang bong, all of them five or under at the start of this book.

There are always very funny and touching moments, as well as some incredibly annoying ones when you want to yell at K (the K's are terrible with money, just shockingly bad). K's aversion to strangers means there's no chance of, say, spending the money wasted on a country cottage (which they trash) on a bigger apartment with room for an aupair or whatever or at least hiring someone to look after the children for a few extra hours, or clean the house, or shop and prepare meals! But whatever. When Linda is in hospital K even refuses the household help that would have been free! They depend on their two mothers (and what a cliché that is, like grandmas have no other lives but to serve their children and grandchildren?). I am sympathetic--small children are a full-time job and you can't imagine ever having an uninterrupted moment and yet you are so in love with your children you have trouble letting others care for them--you lose most of your ability to make rational choices. All understandable.

You see how easy it is to criticize K's choices because he puts it all out there, all the dirty laundry, mistakes, bad days, and so on. That's why we generally don't let on what is really happening!

The whole of this last book circles around the question of the private and the public selves and how they interact, intertwine and affect our perceptions and behaviour. I would say that K's view of the matter would be, as demonstrated by the work itself, that the more that is out in the open, aired so that an attempt to understand can be made, is better.

If I had ten stars to award I would *********. show less

Noooooo!!!!! I can't believe the My Struggle series is finished for me. This is beyond the usual book hangover - someone get an IV drip line set up.

So this final instalment was the biggest yet (1,153 pages), but was also a change in many respects from the form of the previous 5 books. As Knausgaard is writing Book 6, the previous books are now at various stages of being published, so this volume feels more like a real-time memoir as opposed to the novelised form of an embellished memoir that was typical of the previous books. In many senses, Book 6 feels like mental closure for Knausgaard on the series - his opportunity to come full circle on the project, setting the record straight on the truth and intent of it amidst members of his show more wider family becoming embittered and litigious on what has been written as the books start to be published.

Divided into 3 sections, the first section is very much centred around the stress of Knausgaard's uncle Gunnar's reaction to Book 1 when he receives a copy before publication. As he faces the reaction of those who are detailed in his books for the first time, self-doubt begins to surface. Does he have the right to write about his own past? Has he remembered the key aspects of the past truthfully?

As Gunnar pushes for anonymity for himself and his brother (Knausgaard's father), the second section becomes a complete departure from form, taking the topic of the importance of a name into a 400 page philosophical essay segue on the topic of the critical differences between I, we and they, and the impact of anonymisation on the perception of someone as an individual. Some 70 pages of this were devoted to a line-by-line, word-by-word analysis of a Paul Celan poem, which acts as a prelude to an examination of Hitler's rise and anti-semitism in Nazi Germany, interwoven with biblical analysis. At a high level in this section, Knausgaard is examining the interplay between art, politics and religion, but the subtle subliminal message is his argument for not anonymising his father in the book.

Section 3 then brings us back to usual Knausgaard writing style. Time is further accelerated with more books published, and as he begins to focus on the completion of Book 6 his wife Linda enters a period of serious mental illness.

Three very different sections which felt in many ways like 3 separate books, although Knausgaard successfully ties them together. In the first section, Knausgaard comes across as a bit of a self-obsessed bore who is selfish with his self-wallowing time and introspection. In the first few books he humorously comes across as a bit of a dick as a youngster. By the end of the first section of book 6, I was beginning to think he might just be a bit of a dick full stop.

The first part of section 2 didn't work for me. He opens up by stating that he's always felt inferior because he doesn't understand poetry, yet then goes off on a 70 page examination word-by-word of the Celan poem. This felt like a selfish departure from the main thrust of the novel, a chance for Knausgaard to prove to himself and his readers that he does deserve respect as a credible examiner of literary text. Whilst I could put forward a similar argument for the Hitler segue, I found this part really interesting as I've not read in detail about Hitler's life before. On one level I could be unkind and accuse Knausgaard of simply bringing a number of texts on Hitler together (including Mein Kampf) - he relies on much of the actual text from other books in this section - but overall I think that would be doing him a disservice. His analysis of the popularity of Hitler and the important differences between the viewpoints of I, we and them was extremely well done, and I can see how he has successfully gone on to write other books which are of a more philosophical and critical nature.

The third section was probably my favourite of the three, but the one that gives me the most personal doubt. Was it right for him to have written in such graphic detail about his wife's mental illness? Does this cross a moral line, or was it necessary to maintain the truth of his project right to the end?

In all, this was a rollercoaster finale to the series that takes the reader in all sorts of unexpected directions. Does the series finale need a 400 page philosophical critique taking up a third of it? Does it work? Yes. No. I can't decide. It's so out there, and so at odds with the rest of the book and the series, yet at the same time I think he might just have pulled it off. Would I ultimately have preferred to have read section 2 as a separate book? Quite possibly, but then wouldn't that just have been something more ordinary then?

For sure this is a series I'll have to come back to again at some point. It deserves re-reading, multiple times. Knausgaard successfully concludes the series, to the detriment of us readers. How will we cope with not reading in his words about his subsequent divorce from Linda, his move to London and his new partner? Don't we deserve to keep spying on his life indefinitely?!!!

4.5 stars - my literary crush remains intact. Knausgaard is joining Bowie in my personal true-love-lasts-a-lifetime wall of fame.

PS - So is he a dick? In conclusion, yes there is a strong chance he is, as this project has ultimately been a selfish and self-absorbed journey, but still - we've all got our crosses to bear ;) show less

I feel like I can’t give this book 5 stars after Karl Ove put me through that 450 page self-indulgent AF Hitler biography/poetry analysis essay, but I also feel like I have to give this 5 stars to recognize the scope and the effect of this entire project. So here we are. Not a perfect book by any means and probably not a very ethical project either, but it is deeply fascinating and unlike anything else I’ve encountered before. In Book 6, Karl Ove grapples with the consequences of writing a wildly popular yet deeply personal book series. These books have altered (or completely destroyed) relationships with friends and family members, and yet Knausgaard is still unable to quit. It is easy to cast judgement from the sidelines at show more Knausgaard for his lack of consideration in sharing intimate details about his life, but yet as a reader I too felt implicated because of how invested I have become in this project. Of course it is never possible to achieve 100% unflinching honesty (even Knausgaard writes about how public pressure and fear of media scandals affects his process), but it has been fascinating to watch Knausgaard venturing time-and-time-again into overshare territory throughout this entire project. show less

Så er jeg gjennom alle 6 bøkene i denne serien. Den sjette skiller seg markant ut fra de foregående både hva gjelder lengde og form. Man skal ha gode underarmsmuskler for å lese denne nesten 1200 sider lange boken. Egentlig er dette flere bøker i en, og forlaget kunnet nok ha vært tjent med å dele den opp i minimum to. Det er imidlertid en sterk leseopplevelse Knausgård gir oss - igjen. Bokens eneste svakhet i mine øyne er enkelte svært utilgjengelige passasjer i midten om litteratur og poesi, et budskap for et betydelig smalere publikum enn resten av boken. Hans lange essay om Adolf Hitler er noe av det beste essay jeg har lest på norsk, og har endret mitt syn på mellomkrigstid og oppblomstring av nazismen. Men det er den show more siste delen, om konas depresjonssykdom, som setter dypest spor. Sjelden eller aldri har vel sykdommen blitt beskrevet med en slik innlevelse og patos som Knausgård gjør her. Det er gjort med kjærlighet og empati, men er samtidig nakent og rått. Boken er også morsom i og med at den kommenterer seg selv - det er like før nåtiden tar igjen forfatteren når han beskriver tiden rundt utgivelsene av de fem første bøkene. Den første delen av sekseren er en åpen og ærlig beskrivelse av forfatterens følelser når noen i hans nærmeste familie går til angrep på ham. Igjen forteller han oss om oss selv ved å dele så mye av sitt eget liv, og det får stå som den viktigste bragden hele denne fantastiske bokserien har gitt oss: en kunnskap om oss selv, våre grenser, våre håp og drømmer. Hvert menneske er ensomt, men Knausgård har ført oss nærmere hverandre i forståelsen av at det er mer som forener enn skiller oss. show less

If Knausgaard's My Struggle sequence were a DVD box-set, The End would be the disc of bonus features. The book's principal theme is the reception of its own earlier volumes and the effect that their publication had on the author's family. There is also a digression of several hundred pages on the life of Adolf Hitler, from his childhood to the lingering horrors of the holocaust. Knausgaard is insightful and convincing when he writes about Hitler, but (apart from his book's titular reference to Mein Kampf, which he attributes to his publisher) there is no particular reason why he is doing so. The End would not have been diminished if the excellent but lengthy Hitler section had been published as a standalone book. Knausgaard is on less show more certain ground when he deconstructs a poem by Paul Celan. Poetry rarely responds well to translation, and this lengthy analysis of the Norwegian translation of a poem written in German and (in this edition) translated into English seems like a drawn-out game of Chinese whispers. Taken as a whole, The End is a less-than-worthy conclusion to a truly magical sequence of novels; this is not due to the writing, but to the laissez-faire editing. Hats off to the two translators who have managed a seamless effort that remains consistent with the 'voice' used in the earlier volumes. Typographic peeve: the typesetter has selected a typeface that does not contain the slashed 'o' [ø] used in Norwegian. This character is 'flown in' from another font and jars every time it appears. show less

Things get meta as Karl Ova’s life is turned upside down by the release of the first volume in the series. The middle of the book is a very long analysis of a Celine poem and (maybe I should’ve guessed?) Hitler’s Mein Kampf. Fortunately while I don’t care for poetry I’m fascinated by Hitler but people who enjoy neither might be in for a rough ride as it makes up at least a quarter of the book.
I can only guess that analyzing the memoir of a monster helped him come to terms with his being perceived as a monster himself after the release of Volume 1.
When he returns to chronicling his escalating family dramas in the last third it’s a welcome relief. I won’t go into details but it was somewhat frustrating, as it ends very show more abruptly when the subject matter could’ve made a fascinating book in its own right.
Still I’m happy to have undertaken this journey with an author who is willing to sacrifice almost everything in his pursuit of “literary realism”—or at least a convincing imitation.
I also want to compliment the narrator who did a terrific job with a wide range of characters at a wide range of ages. show less

My rating has to be extended to the entire endeavor itself, the stones required for such a project. Do I at this moment feel manipulated? Possibly. If Hamlet is indeed about Bosnia and AIDS (as was once asserted in a brilliant Branagh satire) then Knausgård and his Min kamp is a meditation on Trump/Erdogan/Abe, Brexit and #MeToo.

There are astonishing readings of Paul Celan and Hitler here, much more on the latter than one would assume. This discursive turn arrives when one is accustomed to something different. The My Struggle project isn't Proust, though the author is most aware and lards matters with the stated appreciation thereof. There is also a questionable diary of his wife's mental illness: things went suddenly Through A Glass show more Darkly. (that analogy is interesting with Bergman's relationship to Linda)

I read most of this on a mountain in Tennessee, Sierra Nevada was at hand. Quite a bit. Do I want to plumb further, perhaps consider Anne Sexton and Kawabata in this light? Do the Kavanaugh hearings have a bearing on ontology? My wife and I discussed a host of aspects regarding the meta-confession. I feel the better for such. I just spent a month reading Karl Ove. Let's see what daylight brings. show less