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travisppe's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
There are long passages that I didn’t care for but overall an intriguing read. Knausgård’s style is fascinating even when the story is mundane, much like his autobiography.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Dementia, Drug use, Injury/Injury detail, Medical content, Suicide attempt, Addiction, Blood, Child death, Death, Suicide, Alcohol, Car accident, and Mental illness
encyclopedia's review against another edition
challenging
dark
mysterious
reflective
tense
medium-paced
4.5
"So it's a sign, is it?"
"Everything's a sign. That tree over there. The leaves. Signs, everything."
"Of what?"
"I don't know."
"All right, then. Signs from what? Who's contacting us?"
"The world is contacting us. The signs are from the world. From that which is."
I was convinced to read this book by Patricia Lockwood's delightfully unhinged review in the London Review of Books (here: https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v44/n01/patricia-lockwood/strap-on-an-ox-head). In it, Lockwood compares this book to "a hoarder's house, full of sliced ham, possible to become obsessed with." This alone sold me, and I am certainly obsessed with this book — even if, like Lockwood, I'm actually not sure if it's good or not.
I had never read Knausgaard before, but I understand his hyperfocus on minute, mundane details is a common theme in his work. Weirdly, I think this hyperfocus is actually what makes this book shine, or maybe burn. Without it, the pace would pick up, and the horror of the plot would sit closer to the surface. It would just be a thriller. But as it is, this book is mostly full of scenes where someone gets out the bread and cheese and tomato, and then slices the tomato, and makes some coffee, and gets a cup for the coffee, and then pours it, and then picks up the cup and the plate and puts them on the table. While there is, all told, perhaps a bit too much of this, it also serves to heighten the sense of dread.
When you are experiencing a medical emergency, you should go to the emergency room, or at least urgent care, but the reality is that there will (inshallah) be someone worse off than you who needs care more urgently; and either way, someone else will have gotten there first. So there you sit, technically having a medical emergency, nonetheless waiting for minutes or hours, perhaps watching The Price is Right or staring at a fly on the windowsill. That is what this book feels like. It is 666 pages of hang time, the moment of flight before impact.
For this reason, it's not exactly a thriller or a horror novel, although it is sometimes thrilling and/or horrifying. It's almost a philosophical novel, but in some ways it's too blunt for that. Fortunately or unfortunately, I am enamored with it, sliced ham and all.
I happened to read this immediately after Russell Hoban's "Riddley Walker," an unlikely but fabulous pairing with this book. I highly recommend you get into Riddley Walker if you liked this. It's much shorter and very, very different, but there are a shocking number of commonalities. Both are concerned with consciousness and perception in times of apocalypse, and they share a weirdly parallel conception of the soul that is not exactly Christian, despite the influence Christianity exerts on the worlds of both novels. There's even some extremely specific mythological ideas that are referenced in both.
"Everything's a sign. That tree over there. The leaves. Signs, everything."
"Of what?"
"I don't know."
"All right, then. Signs from what? Who's contacting us?"
"The world is contacting us. The signs are from the world. From that which is."
I was convinced to read this book by Patricia Lockwood's delightfully unhinged review in the London Review of Books (here: https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v44/n01/patricia-lockwood/strap-on-an-ox-head). In it, Lockwood compares this book to "a hoarder's house, full of sliced ham, possible to become obsessed with." This alone sold me, and I am certainly obsessed with this book — even if, like Lockwood, I'm actually not sure if it's good or not.
I had never read Knausgaard before, but I understand his hyperfocus on minute, mundane details is a common theme in his work. Weirdly, I think this hyperfocus is actually what makes this book shine, or maybe burn. Without it, the pace would pick up, and the horror of the plot would sit closer to the surface. It would just be a thriller. But as it is, this book is mostly full of scenes where someone gets out the bread and cheese and tomato, and then slices the tomato, and makes some coffee, and gets a cup for the coffee, and then pours it, and then picks up the cup and the plate and puts them on the table. While there is, all told, perhaps a bit too much of this, it also serves to heighten the sense of dread.
When you are experiencing a medical emergency, you should go to the emergency room, or at least urgent care, but the reality is that there will (inshallah) be someone worse off than you who needs care more urgently; and either way, someone else will have gotten there first. So there you sit, technically having a medical emergency, nonetheless waiting for minutes or hours, perhaps watching The Price is Right or staring at a fly on the windowsill. That is what this book feels like. It is 666 pages of hang time, the moment of flight before impact.
For this reason, it's not exactly a thriller or a horror novel, although it is sometimes thrilling and/or horrifying. It's almost a philosophical novel, but in some ways it's too blunt for that. Fortunately or unfortunately, I am enamored with it, sliced ham and all.
I happened to read this immediately after Russell Hoban's "Riddley Walker," an unlikely but fabulous pairing with this book. I highly recommend you get into Riddley Walker if you liked this. It's much shorter and very, very different, but there are a shocking number of commonalities. Both are concerned with consciousness and perception in times of apocalypse, and they share a weirdly parallel conception of the soul that is not exactly Christian, despite the influence Christianity exerts on the worlds of both novels. There's even some extremely specific mythological ideas that are referenced in both.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Murder, Animal death, Suicide, Addiction, Death, Alcoholism, Blood, and Gore
renepierre's review against another edition
challenging
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
Set in Norway, following a cast of nine characters and their families, we watch as weird things start happening after a new star suddenly appears in the night sky. I really enjoyed the multiple perspective aspect to this novel, having been left in suspense until their story continued later in the novel was really fun. However, although I know this is a series and I am to have a lot of my questions answered eventually, I feel like the pay off wasn’t worth it in this particular novel considering it is a 680 page novel. Some characters were not given enough time, which, instead of filling me with anticipation for the next novel, made it seem like their role in the story was pointless. There is also an essay toward the end of the novel written by one of the characters, and I’m afraid this just removed me completely from the story and more so felt like the author inserting himself within this novel. Having said, I still enjoyed the reading experience for this book, at least enough to warrant picking up the next in the series.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Addiction, Alcoholism, Animal death, Child death, Death, Medical content, Medical trauma, Schizophrenia/Psychosis , and Suicide
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