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4.19 AVERAGE
4.19 AVERAGE
This book is CRAY CRAY but also excellent Sigrid Undset plot and psychology. Themes of Kristin Lavransdatter and Olav Audunssøn for sure.
“But evil fortune should harden my heart, as I would have it.”
Gunnar’s Daughter by Sigrid Undset was my pick from my bowl of random TBR titles which I was pretty excited about. I fell in love with Undset when I read the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy a couple of years ago, but hadn’t revisited the author’s work since. Gunnar’s Daughter is a short, but powerful work set in the eleventh century looking at Vigdis Gunnarsdatter, a beautiful Norwegian maid, who is raped by the violent Icelandic man she wanted to love, Viga-Ljot. Vigdis’ strength is forged in adversity as she faces raising her child alone, asserting her agency in a world ruled by men, and restoring honor to her family.
What an interesting little book. This was slow to capture my attention, but once it did I found myself entirely invested in the story. Unset was superb at writing historical fiction, but it took me a bit longer to develop a relationship with Vigdis than it did with Kristin Lavransdatter. I didn’t necessarily understand her initial attraction to Viga-Ljot in the beginning of the novel. Although she seems to disapprove of his actions, she does entertain the prospect of marrying him. I think slaying a horse and generally having a propensity for violence and foolhardiness hardly seem like endearing qualities, but then again…that black hair and those piercing blue eyes? Yeah, my panties would have been discarded by page one, because I’m a wretched homosexual, but Vigdis seems to have much more self-respect than me. It isn’t until Ljot attacks Vigdis’ reputation with his suggestive songs that she turns on him.
“May you have the worst of deaths - and live long and miserably - you and all you hold dear. And may you see your children die most wretchedly before your eyes.”
After the Ljot’s assault on Vigdis is when this book really starts to get interesting and really explores themes that seem timeless. I really found the way Undset captured the trauma of Vigdis’ experience to be quite compelling and more nuanced than I expected. I’m not sure how I expected this story to go, but I was interested in every turn of the plot, particularly as Vigdis’ son grew older. Vigdis is such a brilliant character and that was what made me fall in love with Gunnar’s Daughter. Sure, she shows moments of despair, and perhaps even exhibits a bit of selfishness, but it’s also what makes her a complex and dynamic character.
Siamo nella Norvegia medievale e una nave proveniente dall’Islanda approda in un fiordo. A bordo, tra gli altri, c’è Ljot che appena tredicenne ha vendicato il padre, uccidendo i suoi assassini. Ora, è un uomo.
L’equipaggio viene accolto in una casa, dove c’è una bellissima ragazza: Vigdis appunto. È anche una tipa indipendente, che non è disposta, per esempio, a sposare chi vuole il padre.
Inutile dire che tra i due giovani c’è un fatale scambio di sguardi che fa scoccare l’amore. Ma tranquilli: questa non è una storia d’amore.
È una tragedia.
Nordica però.
Perché Ljot violenta Vigdis, lei rimane incinta, partorirà e abbandonerà il neonato nel bosco. Quando lui prima di imbarcarsi alla volta dell’Islanda la incontrerà, lei gli vomita addosso tutto il suo odio. Lo maledice.
E tutte le maledizioni si avvereranno.
Ma il bambino non è morto nel bosco. Salvato, sarà infine accettato obtorto collo, come dicono quelli bravi, da Vigdis, che pensa di usare lui per la sua vendetta.
Un po’ di tempo dopo il padre di Vigdis rientra a casa gravemente ferito. Lei prende un coltello, trova i due uomini responsabili dell’aggressione, taglia loro la gola nel sonno. Nel sangue di uno si laverà le mani e le asciugherà nei capelli del morto.
Poi, col bambino fugge per scampare alla vendetta del resto del clan, mentre il padre e la fattoria bruceranno nella notte. Troverà rifugio presso una banda di briganti che l’aiuteranno. Ma per salvarle la mano sinistra dal gelo, dovranno amputarle tre dita.
In Islanda intanto Ljot vive, ma senza serenità. Si sposa con una bellissima ragazza, ha tre figli: moriranno tutti. Il suo pensiero è sempre per Vigdis, non riesce a togliersela dalla testa, e l’amore totale di sua moglie, non riesce a oscurarne il ricordo. Alla fine, anche lei muore. Ljot abbandona l’Islanda.
In fondo ho già spiegato come finisce il romanzo, quindi è del tutto inutile proseguire.
Quello che è interessante è che questo romanzo fu pubblicato nel 1909.
È una tragedia perché quel mondo medievale norvegese, solo in apparenza lontano da noi ma in realtà più vicino di quanto immaginiamo, reclama vendetta quando subisce un torto, un’ingiustizia.
E la tragedia non è nei morti, ma nel fatto che non si possa sfuggire a questo fato che pretende, e alla fine ottiene, sangue. A un prezzo altissimo, come ben sa Vigdis che nelle ultime pagine confessa.
Che cosa? Basta leggere questo romanzo!
Sigrid Undset non si compiace affatto di quello che scrive, della violenza, del sangue. Fa il suo mestiere di scrittrice e lo fa benissimo. Ci consegna una narrazione secca, essenziale, di una strana e ammaliante bellezza. Orchestra alla perfezione le parole, e intreccia con semplicità, ma anche con abilità, una storia che in fondo ci pare di avere già letto o sentito altrove.
Eppure è una storia che ci spinge ad andare avanti, a girare pagina anche se immaginiamo come sarà il finale.
La maestria di Sigrid Undset sta nel fatto di essere riuscita, in un romanzo tutto sommato piuttosto breve, a illustrare le peculiarità della tragedia in terra nordica. Una tragedia davanti alla quale anche il cristianesimo, che inizia a imporsi in quelle terre, pare in difficoltà.
Ma chissà che il pianto finale di Vigdis non sia anche la consapevolezza, nuova, dell’inutilità di una vita intera votata all’odio e alla vendetta. Perché alla fine, che cosa resta? Ben poco. Anzi: nulla.
L’equipaggio viene accolto in una casa, dove c’è una bellissima ragazza: Vigdis appunto. È anche una tipa indipendente, che non è disposta, per esempio, a sposare chi vuole il padre.
Inutile dire che tra i due giovani c’è un fatale scambio di sguardi che fa scoccare l’amore. Ma tranquilli: questa non è una storia d’amore.
È una tragedia.
Nordica però.
Perché Ljot violenta Vigdis, lei rimane incinta, partorirà e abbandonerà il neonato nel bosco. Quando lui prima di imbarcarsi alla volta dell’Islanda la incontrerà, lei gli vomita addosso tutto il suo odio. Lo maledice.
E tutte le maledizioni si avvereranno.
Ma il bambino non è morto nel bosco. Salvato, sarà infine accettato obtorto collo, come dicono quelli bravi, da Vigdis, che pensa di usare lui per la sua vendetta.
Un po’ di tempo dopo il padre di Vigdis rientra a casa gravemente ferito. Lei prende un coltello, trova i due uomini responsabili dell’aggressione, taglia loro la gola nel sonno. Nel sangue di uno si laverà le mani e le asciugherà nei capelli del morto.
Poi, col bambino fugge per scampare alla vendetta del resto del clan, mentre il padre e la fattoria bruceranno nella notte. Troverà rifugio presso una banda di briganti che l’aiuteranno. Ma per salvarle la mano sinistra dal gelo, dovranno amputarle tre dita.
In Islanda intanto Ljot vive, ma senza serenità. Si sposa con una bellissima ragazza, ha tre figli: moriranno tutti. Il suo pensiero è sempre per Vigdis, non riesce a togliersela dalla testa, e l’amore totale di sua moglie, non riesce a oscurarne il ricordo. Alla fine, anche lei muore. Ljot abbandona l’Islanda.
In fondo ho già spiegato come finisce il romanzo, quindi è del tutto inutile proseguire.
Quello che è interessante è che questo romanzo fu pubblicato nel 1909.
È una tragedia perché quel mondo medievale norvegese, solo in apparenza lontano da noi ma in realtà più vicino di quanto immaginiamo, reclama vendetta quando subisce un torto, un’ingiustizia.
E la tragedia non è nei morti, ma nel fatto che non si possa sfuggire a questo fato che pretende, e alla fine ottiene, sangue. A un prezzo altissimo, come ben sa Vigdis che nelle ultime pagine confessa.
Che cosa? Basta leggere questo romanzo!
Sigrid Undset non si compiace affatto di quello che scrive, della violenza, del sangue. Fa il suo mestiere di scrittrice e lo fa benissimo. Ci consegna una narrazione secca, essenziale, di una strana e ammaliante bellezza. Orchestra alla perfezione le parole, e intreccia con semplicità, ma anche con abilità, una storia che in fondo ci pare di avere già letto o sentito altrove.
Eppure è una storia che ci spinge ad andare avanti, a girare pagina anche se immaginiamo come sarà il finale.
La maestria di Sigrid Undset sta nel fatto di essere riuscita, in un romanzo tutto sommato piuttosto breve, a illustrare le peculiarità della tragedia in terra nordica. Una tragedia davanti alla quale anche il cristianesimo, che inizia a imporsi in quelle terre, pare in difficoltà.
Ma chissà che il pianto finale di Vigdis non sia anche la consapevolezza, nuova, dell’inutilità di una vita intera votata all’odio e alla vendetta. Perché alla fine, che cosa resta? Ben poco. Anzi: nulla.
4.5/5
The journey by which I found out about and then acquired a copy of this work is nothing short of magical, and is why I so deeply miss the reserve of used book sales I somewhat took for granted back in the day. You see, way back when, I took on Undset's [b:Kristin Lavransdatter|6217|Kristin Lavransdatter (Kristin Lavransdatter, #1-3)|Sigrid Undset|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388289230l/6217._SY75_.jpg|1370150] due to my habit of 'go big or go home' when it comes to underrepresented demographics in various awards, in this case the Nobel Prize for Literature, and ended up discovering a favorite. Through some whim of circumstance, I had actually committed to this, one of Undset's lesser known works, two years prior to my first reading of her, and if one knows anything about literary publications of women in translation, you know that not even a Nobel can save their less lauded works from obscurity. So when I went through the motions of the often thankless process of searching through the section devoted aged hardbacks largely of works long out of print and stumbled upon this long familiar title, I was more than a little chuffed. After so many years of intensive reading, I knew not to expect an author up to measure up in their second engagement to the level they set in the first, especially with as awe inspiring an introduction that Undset struck. However, this work is a masterful portrayal of desire, revenge, and unfulfillment, splayed out on the field of the Nordic Middle Age, the Vikings still reaping and sowing in the vein of pagan fulfillment but just on the verge of being fully converted to Christianity. It's the opposite of experimental and has no interest in subverting expectations, but if you're in the mood for a tale of in the style of old that zings just as sharply in the modern day, you're in for a real treat.
There's a lot going on these days, and yet, because of capitalism, so much of it looks the same. Sure, freedom of speech and all that, but if something doesn't become the next cash cow and pull in the consumers past their credit limits, good luck convincing someone who doesn't already participate in an open access project (fanfiction, Wikipedia, game modding, etc) that it's worth bringing into existence. Due to its inherent physical characteristics and position in society, literature can more easily escape the hegemonic specter that is the superhero movie where no one really dies and thus no one really matters, but if you asked yourself whether a work like this one here could be published to the wide acclaim it deserves today, you'd probably tell yourself that the plot is nothing new, the characters do not for a single moment quip, and the world building really doesn't sustain itself without any high fantasy thrills. And yet, this text thrills without proselytizing, immerses without overwhelming, and for the most part takes me back to the days where I would hold my breath while reading the last few pages, the conclusion impossible to predict and the tension thick enough for a knife. It didn't end up ranking as highly as Kristin Lavransdatter, but it did further confirm my labeling Undset as a favorite. For sometimes the humans are drawn so well in both their sanctity and their sins that one must know what happens, the conflict is so familiar in their horrid complexity that one cannot help but painfully relate, and the setting is so enticing in its possibilities and dire in its consequences that one simultaneously yearns for it while being more than relived that one is in the 21st century. As stated, it's likely too simplistic and 'done before' to win any prizes today, but sometimes what one needs on these dreary days is a ripping good tale, and the fact that the tale is about a woman who happens to be a human is an added bonus.
A few months after I relocated for work, I decided that, in order to balance being unwilling to drive 70+ miles for a potential handful of used books and yet fervently missing the experience nonetheless, I'd permit myself a regular monthly amount to spend on Bookshop.org. Now that my finances are much more stable, I'm in a better position than I've ever been to actually indulge in that scheme, but after my experience with this work, I know for a fact that getting that shipment in the mail, all nice and neat and easily collated, is never going to be as gratifying as the thrill of the successful hunt. Thoughts of eventually moving again to a more booksale-friendly area aside, I'm grateful that the fervent commitment to literature that I've dedicated nearly two decades of my life and an untold amount of my money to cultivating has made for experiences like these, where a used book that I pick up for a buck ends up being the bridge between a fraught past and a vibrant future. Indeed, upon looking back on my logged tag updates for this, I realize that I so fortuitously acquired it a mere five days before I got the offer of the full time job that has taken me farther on my love affair with bookishness than my younger, much beleaguered, engineering undergrad self could have ever imagined. The fact that it happened with a work of Undset's is, honestly, to be expected. In any case, I'm sure at some point I'll read one of her books and not have it be coupled with a cataclysmically life affirming event, but to find that out, I'll simply have to read more of her books. And if worse comes to worst and my life is totally typical from beginning to end, I'll have yet another masterful book by a damn good author who deserves far more contemporary acclaim than she gets under my belt, and that's hardly the worst thing to settle for, no?
The journey by which I found out about and then acquired a copy of this work is nothing short of magical, and is why I so deeply miss the reserve of used book sales I somewhat took for granted back in the day. You see, way back when, I took on Undset's [b:Kristin Lavransdatter|6217|Kristin Lavransdatter (Kristin Lavransdatter, #1-3)|Sigrid Undset|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388289230l/6217._SY75_.jpg|1370150] due to my habit of 'go big or go home' when it comes to underrepresented demographics in various awards, in this case the Nobel Prize for Literature, and ended up discovering a favorite. Through some whim of circumstance, I had actually committed to this, one of Undset's lesser known works, two years prior to my first reading of her, and if one knows anything about literary publications of women in translation, you know that not even a Nobel can save their less lauded works from obscurity. So when I went through the motions of the often thankless process of searching through the section devoted aged hardbacks largely of works long out of print and stumbled upon this long familiar title, I was more than a little chuffed. After so many years of intensive reading, I knew not to expect an author up to measure up in their second engagement to the level they set in the first, especially with as awe inspiring an introduction that Undset struck. However, this work is a masterful portrayal of desire, revenge, and unfulfillment, splayed out on the field of the Nordic Middle Age, the Vikings still reaping and sowing in the vein of pagan fulfillment but just on the verge of being fully converted to Christianity. It's the opposite of experimental and has no interest in subverting expectations, but if you're in the mood for a tale of in the style of old that zings just as sharply in the modern day, you're in for a real treat.
There's a lot going on these days, and yet, because of capitalism, so much of it looks the same. Sure, freedom of speech and all that, but if something doesn't become the next cash cow and pull in the consumers past their credit limits, good luck convincing someone who doesn't already participate in an open access project (fanfiction, Wikipedia, game modding, etc) that it's worth bringing into existence. Due to its inherent physical characteristics and position in society, literature can more easily escape the hegemonic specter that is the superhero movie where no one really dies and thus no one really matters, but if you asked yourself whether a work like this one here could be published to the wide acclaim it deserves today, you'd probably tell yourself that the plot is nothing new, the characters do not for a single moment quip, and the world building really doesn't sustain itself without any high fantasy thrills. And yet, this text thrills without proselytizing, immerses without overwhelming, and for the most part takes me back to the days where I would hold my breath while reading the last few pages, the conclusion impossible to predict and the tension thick enough for a knife. It didn't end up ranking as highly as Kristin Lavransdatter, but it did further confirm my labeling Undset as a favorite. For sometimes the humans are drawn so well in both their sanctity and their sins that one must know what happens, the conflict is so familiar in their horrid complexity that one cannot help but painfully relate, and the setting is so enticing in its possibilities and dire in its consequences that one simultaneously yearns for it while being more than relived that one is in the 21st century. As stated, it's likely too simplistic and 'done before' to win any prizes today, but sometimes what one needs on these dreary days is a ripping good tale, and the fact that the tale is about a woman who happens to be a human is an added bonus.
A few months after I relocated for work, I decided that, in order to balance being unwilling to drive 70+ miles for a potential handful of used books and yet fervently missing the experience nonetheless, I'd permit myself a regular monthly amount to spend on Bookshop.org. Now that my finances are much more stable, I'm in a better position than I've ever been to actually indulge in that scheme, but after my experience with this work, I know for a fact that getting that shipment in the mail, all nice and neat and easily collated, is never going to be as gratifying as the thrill of the successful hunt. Thoughts of eventually moving again to a more booksale-friendly area aside, I'm grateful that the fervent commitment to literature that I've dedicated nearly two decades of my life and an untold amount of my money to cultivating has made for experiences like these, where a used book that I pick up for a buck ends up being the bridge between a fraught past and a vibrant future. Indeed, upon looking back on my logged tag updates for this, I realize that I so fortuitously acquired it a mere five days before I got the offer of the full time job that has taken me farther on my love affair with bookishness than my younger, much beleaguered, engineering undergrad self could have ever imagined. The fact that it happened with a work of Undset's is, honestly, to be expected. In any case, I'm sure at some point I'll read one of her books and not have it be coupled with a cataclysmically life affirming event, but to find that out, I'll simply have to read more of her books. And if worse comes to worst and my life is totally typical from beginning to end, I'll have yet another masterful book by a damn good author who deserves far more contemporary acclaim than she gets under my belt, and that's hardly the worst thing to settle for, no?
dark
emotional
sad
tense
medium-paced
adventurous
challenging
emotional
inspiring
reflective
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
this one started my fascination with Sigrid Undset's writing, good stuff
dark
sad
tense
fast-paced
Loveable characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Content Warnings
Graphic: Violence, Murder
Moderate: Child death, Rape