Tag Archives: writer: sigrid undset

Kristin Lavransdatter II: The Wife, by Sigrid Undset

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Second paragraph of third chapter:

Det var slik at han tok seg mer nær av dette ille varsel enn hustruen kunne vite. Han hadde skrytt så meget av sin festemø, helt siden hans frender hadde hentet ham jaord på Jørundgaard. Det var det siste han hadde villet, at noen skulle tro, han regnet henne eller hennes frender for ringere enn sine egne folk. Nei, alle skulle vite at han holdt det for en heder og en opreisning, da Lavrans Bjørgulfsøn festet ham sin datter. Nå ville folk si han hadde vel ikke regnet møen for stort mer enn et bondebarn, når han hadde turdet krenke hennes far slik at han sov med datteren, før hun var blitt ham gitt til ekte. I sitt bryllup hadde Erlend trengt heftig inn på sin kones foreldre, til sommeren måtte de endelig komme til Husaby og se hvordan han hadde det. Både hadde han gjerne villet vise dem, at det var ikke til små kår han førte deres datter inn. Men han hadde også gledet seg til at fare omkring og syne seg i følge med disse vakre og staselige svigerforeldre; han skjønte at Lavrans og Ragnfrid kunde hevde seg mellom de fremste, hvor de så kom hen. Og han hadde trodd, siden den gangen han var på Jørundgaard, da kirken brente, at Lavrans tross alt ikke likte ham så ilde. Nå var det lite rimelig at gjensynet mellom ham og hans konefrender skulle bli til hygge for noen av parterne.As it turned out, he took this act of fate more to heart than his wife could know. He had boasted so much of his betrothed, ever since his kinsmen had won Lavrans’s assent at Jørundgaard. This was the last thing Erlend had wanted—for anyone to believe that he considered her or her kinsmen to be lesser than his own people. No, everyone must know that he held it to be an honor and a distinction when Lavrans Bjørgulfsøn betrothed him to his daughter. Now people would say that Erlend had not considered the maiden much more than a peasant child, since he had dared to offend her father in such a manner, by sleeping with the daughter before she had been given to him in marriage. At his wedding, Erlend had urged his wife’s parents to come to Husaby in the summer to see how things were on his estate. He wanted to show them that it was not to paltry circumstances that he had brought their daughter. But he had also looked forward to traveling around and being seen in the company of these gracious and dignified in-laws; he realized that Lavrans and Ragnfrid could hold their own among the most esteemed of people, wherever they might go. And ever since the time when he was at Jørundgaard and the church burned down, Erlend had thought that Lavrans was rather fond of him, in spite of everything. Now it was unlikely that the reunion between Erlend and his wife’s kinsmen would be pleasant for either party.
translated by Tiina Nunnally

Having very much enjoyed the first volume of Kirstin Lavransdatter, and with the sunk cost of having bought all three in one volume anyway, I came to the second volume with reasonable expectations; which were met. Kirstin has married the rather irresponsible Erlend, already pregnant with the first of their seven sons together, and manages the demands of motherhood and dealing with Erlend’s somewhat irresponsible approach to life and to managing the family’s finances and other commitments, all against the backdrop of the chilly Norwegian climate.

The book then takes a sharp twist when Erlend is arrested on (entirely reasonable) suspicion of plotting a coup d’état to overthrow King Magnus. Kirstin is thrown onto her own wits and needs support from both her father Lavrans and her ex-lover Simon to ensure her own safety and try to prevent Erlend’s execution. The vividly described landscape turns into a well-sketched set of characters interacting because their very lives depend on it.

Glad that I persevered with this. One more volume to go.

You can get Kristin Lavransdatter II: The Wife here.

This was my top unread book by a woman. Next in that pile is Little Thieves by Margaret Owen.

Kristin Lavransdatter I: The Wreath, by Sigrid Undset

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This is the next in my sequence of educating myself about the work of winners of the Nobel Prize for Literature who were not white men. Sigrid Undset (1882-1949) was born in Denmark, but her father was Norwegian and they moved back to Norway when she was two. She began writing as a teenager, and won the Nobel Prize in 1928, when she was 46, then the second youngest winner after Rudyard Kipling (since beaten by Sinclair Lewis, Pearl S. Buck, and Albert Camus).

The Nobel Committee is clear that the award was for Kristin Lavransdatter: the citation was “principally for her powerful descriptions of Northern life during the Middle Ages”. She had been nominated previously in 1922, 1925 and 1926; in 1928 her nomination came not from a writer but from Norwegian psychologist Helga Eng. In her mercifully short acceptance speech, she restricts herself to celebrating the bonds between Norway and Sweden. I find the Chairman of the Academy’s presentation speech somewhat patronising, but he’s clear that Kristin Lavransdatter is the key to Undset’s succcess.

I must say that I approached it with some trepidation. My project to read non-white-male Nobel Literature laureates has not been super successful so far; I have read two short okayish novels by Selma Lagerlöf, some incomprehensible poetry by Rabindranath Tagore and a dull book by Grazia Deledda. And Kristin Lavransdatter checks in at over 1100 pages, and I could tell that it was another tale up upstanding rural folk, like the Lagerlöf and Deledda books. However, I realised that I could just read the first part, published in 1920, for this project, and come back to the second and third parts in due course of my normal rounds of reading.

So, what did I think of The Wreath, the first part of Kristin Lavransdatter? Here is the second paragraph of the third chapter:

Ogsaa Kristin følte at det var en stor lykke de hadde faat med den lille spæde søsteren. Tænkt over at morens tunge sind gjorde det stilt paa gaarden hadde hun aldrig; hun hadde syntes det var som det skulde være, naar moren optugtet og formanet hende, men faren lekte og skjemtet med hende. Nu var moren meget mildere mot hende og gav hende mere frihet, kjælte ogsaa mere for hende, og da la Kristin litet merke til at hendes mor ogsaa hadde meget mindre tid til at stelle med hende. Hun elsket da Ulvhild, hun som de andre, og var glad naar hun fik bære eller vugge søsteren, og siden blev det endda mere moro med den lille, da hun begyndte at krype og gaa og tale og Kristin kunde leke med hende.Kristin also felt it was a great joy that they had been given her little infant sister. She had never thought about the fact that her mother’s somber disposition had made life at home so subdued. She thought things were as they should be: her mother disciplined or admonished her, while her father teased and played with her. Now her mother was gentler toward her and gave her more freedom; she caressed her more often too, so Kristin didn’t notice that her mother also had less time to spend with her. She loved Ulvhild, as everyone did, and was pleased when she was allowed to carry her sister or rock her cradle. And later on the little one was even more fun; as she began to crawl and walk and talk, Kristin could play with her.
English translation by Tiina Nunnally.

Actually I rather liked it. It’s set in the 14th century, in a valley in central Norway. Kristin is the daughter of Lavrans (as you might have guess from the title); he is a respectable nobleman who betroths her to the neighbours’ virtuous son. Kristin however falls in love with an more mature chap who has children from a previous relationship (Undset’s own husband was also an older chap with children from a previous relationship) and eventually persuades her family to let her marry him, wearing the virginal wreath of the book’s title, though she alone knows that she is several months pregnant (as Undset was when she married).

I thought Kristin herself was very well realised, as were the men and women in her life, and the Norwegian landscape and climate, both of which are significant factors in the story, are vividly depicted. One of the interesting subplots is that Kristin’s younger sister suffers a spinal injury in an accident and remains bedridden for the rest of her short life. One of Undset’s own children had a learning disability, as did one of her stepchildren; I don’t know any more details than that, but for obvious reasons disabled characters catch my attention.

It’s quite a Catholic book. Kristin is sent off to a convent school in Oslo, and the portrayal of the nuns is pretty realistic; in general the church plays a helpful role. Undset herself converted to Catholicism in 1924, to great public scandal in Lutheran Norway. In general it’s a huge contrast with the likes of The Good Wife of Bath, which I bounced off last year. My Catholic days are behind me, but I appreciate calm description rather than polemic.

So yeah, this was the first discovery of a new and interesting writer for me in this project, and I will get to the second and third volumes in good time. Meanwhile you can get Kristin Lavransdatter: The Wreath here.