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The Great Weaver From Kashmir
"[The protagonist's] grand, egotistical journey begins with art and ends with God, taking a path marked out by tormented disquisitions on all manner of existential questions."—New York Times Book Review
“Laxness brought the Icelandic novel out from the saga’s shadow. . . . To read Laxness is also to understand why he haunts Iceland—he writes the unearthly prose of a poet cased in the perfection of a shell of plot, wit, and clarity.”—Guardian
“Laxness is a poet who writes at the edge of the pages, a visionary who allows us a plot: He takes a Tolstoyan overview, he weaves in a Waugh-like humor: it is not possible to be unimpressed.”—Daily Telegraph
“Laxness is a beacon in twentieth-century literature, a writer of splendid originality, wit, and feeling.”—Alice Munro
Halldór Laxness’ first major novel propels Iceland into the modern world. A young poet leaves the physical and cultural confines of Iceland’s shores for the jumbled world of post-WWI Europe. His journey leads the reader through a huge range of moral, philosophical, religious, political, and social realms, exploring, as Laxness expressed it, the “far-ranging variety in the life of a soul, with the swings of a pendulum oscillating between angel and devil.” Published when Laxness was twenty-five years old, The Great Weaver from Kashmir’s radical experimentation caused a stir in Iceland.
Halldór Laxness is the master of modern Icelandic fiction. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1955 for his “vivid epic power which has renewed the great narrative art of Iceland.”
Philip Roughton’s translations include Laxness’ Iceland’s Bell, for which he won the American-Scandinavian Foundation Translation Prize in 2001.
“Laxness brought the Icelandic novel out from the saga’s shadow. . . . To read Laxness is also to understand why he haunts Iceland—he writes the unearthly prose of a poet cased in the perfection of a shell of plot, wit, and clarity.”—Guardian
“Laxness is a poet who writes at the edge of the pages, a visionary who allows us a plot: He takes a Tolstoyan overview, he weaves in a Waugh-like humor: it is not possible to be unimpressed.”—Daily Telegraph
“Laxness is a beacon in twentieth-century literature, a writer of splendid originality, wit, and feeling.”—Alice Munro
Halldór Laxness’ first major novel propels Iceland into the modern world. A young poet leaves the physical and cultural confines of Iceland’s shores for the jumbled world of post-WWI Europe. His journey leads the reader through a huge range of moral, philosophical, religious, political, and social realms, exploring, as Laxness expressed it, the “far-ranging variety in the life of a soul, with the swings of a pendulum oscillating between angel and devil.” Published when Laxness was twenty-five years old, The Great Weaver from Kashmir’s radical experimentation caused a stir in Iceland.
Halldór Laxness is the master of modern Icelandic fiction. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1955 for his “vivid epic power which has renewed the great narrative art of Iceland.”
Philip Roughton’s translations include Laxness’ Iceland’s Bell, for which he won the American-Scandinavian Foundation Translation Prize in 2001.
450 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1927
About the author
Halldór Laxness
164 books704 followersBorn Halldór Guðjónsson, he adopted the surname Laxness in honour of Laxnes in Mosfellssveit where he grew up, his family having moved from Reyjavík in 1905. He published his first novel at the age of only 17, the beginning of a long literary career of more than 60 books, including novels, short stories, poetry, and plays. Confirmed a Catholic in 1923, he later moved away from religion and for a long time was sympathetic to Communist politics, which is evident in his novels World Light and Independent People. In 1955 he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 31 reviews
December 14, 2021
Hvar er boring-takkinn á þessu forriti?
September 2, 2018
"The great weaver from Kashmir" is het derde boek van de geniale, toen nog heel jonge Laxness, en het geldt als zijn eerste echt grootse werk. Ik las het met plezier. Ik vond het weliswaar lang niet zo sterk als b.v. "Salka Valka", "Onafhankelijke mensen" of "World light", omdat ik de op zich fascinerende passages over Christelijke ascetische filosofie te lang vond duren en omdat ik het hier en daar te melodramatisch vond. Maar sterk vond ik het niettemin wel, en het is opmerkelijk dat iemand van 25 zo'n boek uit zijn pen kon persen.
Hoofdpersoon is de bijna extatisch gekwelde jonge zoeker Steinn Ellidi (uit te spreken als "Ellithi", met de "th' van "mother"), die de meest perfecte man op aarde wil worden. Dus zoekt hij vol passie naar de allesomvattende Zin van het Leven, omdat hij wil leven naar De Ultieme Waarheid en zo tot voorbeeld wil zijn voor anderen. Dat verlangen verwoordt hij zonder meer heel eloquent: "And I yearn to be sucked into the whirlpool of life until I become a tiny pupil that peeks out along the streets of some huge city, a tiny songbird's tongue so that I can sing about what I am". Dit leidt tot een even gepassioneerde als erratische reis langs vele levensbeschouwingen en levensbestemmingen: Steinn wordt een gepassioneerde antimaatschappelijke "vervloekte dichter" en geeft dat vervolgens even gepassioneerd weer op, is idolaat van verschillende componisten die hij allemaal weer verwerpt, is overtuigd van het socialisme, het estheticisme, het hedonisme, het Marxisme, het Satanisme, en het Katholieke ascetisme van de Benedictijner orde. Zo zijn we als lezer getuige van "the far - ranging variety in the life of a soul, with the swings on a pendulum oscillating between angel and devil". En ook van een werkelijk enorme rusteloosheid en onvervuldheid, wat nog versterkt wordt door de volstrekt koortsachtige irrationaliteit waarmee Steinn zijn verschillende overtuigingen verwoordt en verdedigt, en door de al even koortsachtig irrationele wijze waarop hij die overtuigingen inwisselt of juist met elkaar vermengt. Met name de ellenlange passages over het Katholieke ascetische geloof, die mij zoals gezegd wel wat al te lang duurden, zijn door die passie enorm fascinerend: ze zijn erg scherpzinnig en op veel erudiet bronnenonderzoek gestoeld, ze zijn daardoor ook erg leerzaam in filosofisch of religieus opzicht en dus m.i. intellectueel heel bevredigend, maar ze zijn ook erg dubbelzinnig omdat de gekwelde geest van Steinn steeds door alle geleerde formuleringen heen kiert. Elk langgerekt, scherpzinnig en erudiet traktaat van Stein is tegelijk ook een onwillekeurig zelfportret van Steinn als uiterst getormenteerd mens. En juist dat onwillekeurige en impliciete zelfportret vond ik fascinerend en mooi getekend.
Laxness zelf verbleef als 21- jarige een jaar lang in een klooster, en beproefde gedurende zijn lange leven vele verschillende levensovertuigingen zonder ooit voor een dogma te bezwijken. Misschien heeft Steinn dus wel enige gelijkenis met de rusteloze zoeker die Laxness misschien deels zelf ook was. En misschien verwoordt dit boek, dat in 1925 gepubliceerd werd, wel een stemming van velen uit die tijd, zo kort na de verschrikkingen van WO I: "But all of Steinn's thoughts spun chaotically through his head, like cold suns in dead solar systems. He was situated opposite eternal life itself and there was no world in existence any longer where he could gain either a handhold or a foothold". Steinn lamenteert, op even vlijmscherpe wijze als Dostojevsky en Nietzsche, over een wereld waarin God dood is en waarin alles dus is toegestaan. Een wereld dus waarin (om met Nietzsche te spreken) de aarde van de zon is losgerukt en doelloos door het heelal en de leegte suist. Steinns wending naar het katholieke geloof lijken dan een poging om de wanhoop te boven te komen, de leegte te overwinnen, weer een nieuw ankerpunt te vinden. Maar ook op het toppunt van geloof blijven zijn gedachten, helaas, koude en dus uitgedoofde zonnen in dode zonnestelsels. Een besef dat niet bij hem expliciet opkomt, maar dat wel doorklinkt in de boven geciteerde woorden van de anonieme verteller. En een besef dat doorklinkt in het hoofd van Dilja, Steinns nicht, jeugdvriendin en versmade geliefde: "And the life of man is an attempt to arm oneself for war against the eternal horror that laughs behind the day. If the illusion is swept away and a man sees himself, it goes the same for him as for the fool: he discovers that comfort is found neither in Heaven or Earth, and then he dies".
Soms vond ik het boek wijdlopig, en ik vond wat weinig terug van die typische Laxnessiaanse humor waar ik zo van houd. Maar het heeft wel al de Laxnessiaanse trefzekerheid van stijl en vorm die ik aan zijn latere boeken zo bewonder. Het heeft zelfs meerdere stijlen: lange monologen van Steinn, al dan niet epistolair, worden afgewisseld met opmerkelijk absurdistische dialogen, met bijna picaresk aandoende reispassages, en - op steeds erg onverwachte wijze- met lange brieven van Dilja en van Steinns aan het leven lijdende moeder. Dat is goed voor de afwisseling en de leesbaarheid. Bovendien ontstaat daardoor een veelheid van perspectieven op Steinns levenslange zoektocht , wat het raadsel van die zoektocht nog vergroot en verrijkt. Dat raadsel wordt nog verder vergroot doordat de verteller zich van elke duiding en psychologische verklaring onthoudt: we proeven Steinns verwarde gekweldheid steeds tussen de regels van zijn verhitte woorden, we zien ook zijn paradoxale gedrag waarachter een enorme koortsachtige wanhoop lijkt te schuilen en een wereld van irrationele passie, maar de verteller geeft nergens een verklaring of een moreel oordeel. Daardoor, en door de af en toe wel heel opmerkelijke en onlogische sprongen in het verhaalverloop, kunnen wij als lezers niks anders doen dan meebewegen met deze raadselachtige, koortsachtige, gekwelde en vergeefs zoekende figuur. Zonder ooit een definitief oordeel over Steinn te kunnen vellen. Dus hebben ook wij, lezers, aan het einde van dit boek geen eindconclusie. Net zo min als Steinn. Behalve misschien de eindconclusie dat er geen eindconclusie is, en dat geen enkele levensbeschouwing ooit de vraag naar de zin van het leven beantwoordt.
Ik heb, nu ik ook "The great weaver from Kashmir" uit heb, alle in het Nederlands en/of Engels vertaalde boeken van Laxness gelezen. Daar ben ik blij om, want het zijn allemaal mooie en onderling ook heel verschillende boeken. Wel voel ik nu de verleiding om alles opnieuw te lezen, in chronologische volgorde, om zo wat beter te begrijpen hoe die geniale Laxness zich in zijn lange leven en carrière ontwikkeld heeft. Maar dat is voor later, niet voor nu: eerst nagenieten!
Hoofdpersoon is de bijna extatisch gekwelde jonge zoeker Steinn Ellidi (uit te spreken als "Ellithi", met de "th' van "mother"), die de meest perfecte man op aarde wil worden. Dus zoekt hij vol passie naar de allesomvattende Zin van het Leven, omdat hij wil leven naar De Ultieme Waarheid en zo tot voorbeeld wil zijn voor anderen. Dat verlangen verwoordt hij zonder meer heel eloquent: "And I yearn to be sucked into the whirlpool of life until I become a tiny pupil that peeks out along the streets of some huge city, a tiny songbird's tongue so that I can sing about what I am". Dit leidt tot een even gepassioneerde als erratische reis langs vele levensbeschouwingen en levensbestemmingen: Steinn wordt een gepassioneerde antimaatschappelijke "vervloekte dichter" en geeft dat vervolgens even gepassioneerd weer op, is idolaat van verschillende componisten die hij allemaal weer verwerpt, is overtuigd van het socialisme, het estheticisme, het hedonisme, het Marxisme, het Satanisme, en het Katholieke ascetisme van de Benedictijner orde. Zo zijn we als lezer getuige van "the far - ranging variety in the life of a soul, with the swings on a pendulum oscillating between angel and devil". En ook van een werkelijk enorme rusteloosheid en onvervuldheid, wat nog versterkt wordt door de volstrekt koortsachtige irrationaliteit waarmee Steinn zijn verschillende overtuigingen verwoordt en verdedigt, en door de al even koortsachtig irrationele wijze waarop hij die overtuigingen inwisselt of juist met elkaar vermengt. Met name de ellenlange passages over het Katholieke ascetische geloof, die mij zoals gezegd wel wat al te lang duurden, zijn door die passie enorm fascinerend: ze zijn erg scherpzinnig en op veel erudiet bronnenonderzoek gestoeld, ze zijn daardoor ook erg leerzaam in filosofisch of religieus opzicht en dus m.i. intellectueel heel bevredigend, maar ze zijn ook erg dubbelzinnig omdat de gekwelde geest van Steinn steeds door alle geleerde formuleringen heen kiert. Elk langgerekt, scherpzinnig en erudiet traktaat van Stein is tegelijk ook een onwillekeurig zelfportret van Steinn als uiterst getormenteerd mens. En juist dat onwillekeurige en impliciete zelfportret vond ik fascinerend en mooi getekend.
Laxness zelf verbleef als 21- jarige een jaar lang in een klooster, en beproefde gedurende zijn lange leven vele verschillende levensovertuigingen zonder ooit voor een dogma te bezwijken. Misschien heeft Steinn dus wel enige gelijkenis met de rusteloze zoeker die Laxness misschien deels zelf ook was. En misschien verwoordt dit boek, dat in 1925 gepubliceerd werd, wel een stemming van velen uit die tijd, zo kort na de verschrikkingen van WO I: "But all of Steinn's thoughts spun chaotically through his head, like cold suns in dead solar systems. He was situated opposite eternal life itself and there was no world in existence any longer where he could gain either a handhold or a foothold". Steinn lamenteert, op even vlijmscherpe wijze als Dostojevsky en Nietzsche, over een wereld waarin God dood is en waarin alles dus is toegestaan. Een wereld dus waarin (om met Nietzsche te spreken) de aarde van de zon is losgerukt en doelloos door het heelal en de leegte suist. Steinns wending naar het katholieke geloof lijken dan een poging om de wanhoop te boven te komen, de leegte te overwinnen, weer een nieuw ankerpunt te vinden. Maar ook op het toppunt van geloof blijven zijn gedachten, helaas, koude en dus uitgedoofde zonnen in dode zonnestelsels. Een besef dat niet bij hem expliciet opkomt, maar dat wel doorklinkt in de boven geciteerde woorden van de anonieme verteller. En een besef dat doorklinkt in het hoofd van Dilja, Steinns nicht, jeugdvriendin en versmade geliefde: "And the life of man is an attempt to arm oneself for war against the eternal horror that laughs behind the day. If the illusion is swept away and a man sees himself, it goes the same for him as for the fool: he discovers that comfort is found neither in Heaven or Earth, and then he dies".
Soms vond ik het boek wijdlopig, en ik vond wat weinig terug van die typische Laxnessiaanse humor waar ik zo van houd. Maar het heeft wel al de Laxnessiaanse trefzekerheid van stijl en vorm die ik aan zijn latere boeken zo bewonder. Het heeft zelfs meerdere stijlen: lange monologen van Steinn, al dan niet epistolair, worden afgewisseld met opmerkelijk absurdistische dialogen, met bijna picaresk aandoende reispassages, en - op steeds erg onverwachte wijze- met lange brieven van Dilja en van Steinns aan het leven lijdende moeder. Dat is goed voor de afwisseling en de leesbaarheid. Bovendien ontstaat daardoor een veelheid van perspectieven op Steinns levenslange zoektocht , wat het raadsel van die zoektocht nog vergroot en verrijkt. Dat raadsel wordt nog verder vergroot doordat de verteller zich van elke duiding en psychologische verklaring onthoudt: we proeven Steinns verwarde gekweldheid steeds tussen de regels van zijn verhitte woorden, we zien ook zijn paradoxale gedrag waarachter een enorme koortsachtige wanhoop lijkt te schuilen en een wereld van irrationele passie, maar de verteller geeft nergens een verklaring of een moreel oordeel. Daardoor, en door de af en toe wel heel opmerkelijke en onlogische sprongen in het verhaalverloop, kunnen wij als lezers niks anders doen dan meebewegen met deze raadselachtige, koortsachtige, gekwelde en vergeefs zoekende figuur. Zonder ooit een definitief oordeel over Steinn te kunnen vellen. Dus hebben ook wij, lezers, aan het einde van dit boek geen eindconclusie. Net zo min als Steinn. Behalve misschien de eindconclusie dat er geen eindconclusie is, en dat geen enkele levensbeschouwing ooit de vraag naar de zin van het leven beantwoordt.
Ik heb, nu ik ook "The great weaver from Kashmir" uit heb, alle in het Nederlands en/of Engels vertaalde boeken van Laxness gelezen. Daar ben ik blij om, want het zijn allemaal mooie en onderling ook heel verschillende boeken. Wel voel ik nu de verleiding om alles opnieuw te lezen, in chronologische volgorde, om zo wat beter te begrijpen hoe die geniale Laxness zich in zijn lange leven en carrière ontwikkeld heeft. Maar dat is voor later, niet voor nu: eerst nagenieten!
March 12, 2023
Alls ekkert svo slæm ef maður kemst í gegnum settuppið á bókinni sem er óþarflega langt og þurrt að mínu mati.
September 14, 2009
This is not a bad book. Trust me; I've been spoonfed Absolutes and the glorious decay of those who chase after it, as it were some inarguable national trait for Romanians blossoming on the pages of our national literature. After being steeped in that bullshit rhetoric, it is easy for me to see-- this book is quite the opposite.
This is an epic of an Icelandic family, taking place mainly on the continent, and making heavy use of the epistolary form (not as boring as it sounds). About the style: it's filled with poetic moments ("a jubilant monk of the world"), and unexpected use of language ("she felt as if her hands were filthy, as if a raw egg had been cracked open over them.") Not least in number are the youthful angst-type comical utterings ("I suffer in the company of men who do not suffer"). That last quote is sheer comedy to me, and as such I often found myself laughing out loud.
We should not look at the main character or narrator and the author as interchangeable (see Umberto Eco, Six Walks in the Fictional Woods; otherwise yes, The Great Weaver of Kashmir is about a little boy who never matures, a pedantic prick that at times I found curiously endearing - perhaps because he is so prone to erring, and because he made me laugh. For every outpouring of dialectics that Steinn, the main character, makes up out of thin air, the author counterpoints with some small, ironic remark. By letting Steinn whirl his words around everything from marriage to religion, Laxness precisely debunks everything his character proclaims as ultimate truth. It's the opposite of a Bildungsroman, but still a wonderful occasion for reflection.
It's a classic book, with wonderfully weird characters. Although I felt like skipping fifty pages or so of religious rambling, I feel nonetheless like I will want to revisit this book, as it's the type of read that changes with the reader. I am left with the firm conviction that I have to get my hands on more Laxness.
This is an epic of an Icelandic family, taking place mainly on the continent, and making heavy use of the epistolary form (not as boring as it sounds). About the style: it's filled with poetic moments ("a jubilant monk of the world"), and unexpected use of language ("she felt as if her hands were filthy, as if a raw egg had been cracked open over them.") Not least in number are the youthful angst-type comical utterings ("I suffer in the company of men who do not suffer"). That last quote is sheer comedy to me, and as such I often found myself laughing out loud.
We should not look at the main character or narrator and the author as interchangeable (see Umberto Eco, Six Walks in the Fictional Woods; otherwise yes, The Great Weaver of Kashmir is about a little boy who never matures, a pedantic prick that at times I found curiously endearing - perhaps because he is so prone to erring, and because he made me laugh. For every outpouring of dialectics that Steinn, the main character, makes up out of thin air, the author counterpoints with some small, ironic remark. By letting Steinn whirl his words around everything from marriage to religion, Laxness precisely debunks everything his character proclaims as ultimate truth. It's the opposite of a Bildungsroman, but still a wonderful occasion for reflection.
It's a classic book, with wonderfully weird characters. Although I felt like skipping fifty pages or so of religious rambling, I feel nonetheless like I will want to revisit this book, as it's the type of read that changes with the reader. I am left with the firm conviction that I have to get my hands on more Laxness.
January 21, 2017
I pondered whether I in fact could find refuge anywhere on all of God’s green Earth, and whether there was in fact anyone whom I could now allow to look me in the face. And not a single living soul came to mind, not one single creature. [...] There come those times when a man actually has no friend at all! This anguish can cut one so quickly to the heart that no comfort can assuage it, no friendly handshake can shake it off, no smile can soothe it, no mother’s tears can wipe it clean, no lover’s heart can conquer it with forgiveness and affection.
*
[...] so little can be put in words. Words can never reveal the heart. Words are wise, precise, and strict like teachers, and I’m afraid of them, but the heart is none of these things. I usually stayed quiet when you were around because I felt that words couldn’t say what was in my heart. I want to speak a completely different language than the one contained in words. As if I could put into plain words how I felt in my heart that day in the summer when you left!
*
And I listened to the rain fall, and memories rained down in my mind. I recalled your words and everything that had happened. Your words are beautiful and terrible. I tremble when you start to speak. Everything that you say and do is beautiful and terrible.
*
I thank you, my love, for how you have allowed me to torment you. Lovers torment; and are tormented. [...] I’ll torment you, torment you, torment you. I left Iceland last time with the intention of tormenting you; and when I leave again I leave in order to torment you. Because you are all that I love. The love between a man and a woman is the only truth in life. Everything in my life is a lie, Diljá: God and the Devil, Heaven and Hell, everything a lie but you.
*
And the life of man is an attempt to arm oneself for war against the eternal horror that laughs behind the day.
*
[...] so little can be put in words. Words can never reveal the heart. Words are wise, precise, and strict like teachers, and I’m afraid of them, but the heart is none of these things. I usually stayed quiet when you were around because I felt that words couldn’t say what was in my heart. I want to speak a completely different language than the one contained in words. As if I could put into plain words how I felt in my heart that day in the summer when you left!
*
And I listened to the rain fall, and memories rained down in my mind. I recalled your words and everything that had happened. Your words are beautiful and terrible. I tremble when you start to speak. Everything that you say and do is beautiful and terrible.
*
I thank you, my love, for how you have allowed me to torment you. Lovers torment; and are tormented. [...] I’ll torment you, torment you, torment you. I left Iceland last time with the intention of tormenting you; and when I leave again I leave in order to torment you. Because you are all that I love. The love between a man and a woman is the only truth in life. Everything in my life is a lie, Diljá: God and the Devil, Heaven and Hell, everything a lie but you.
*
And the life of man is an attempt to arm oneself for war against the eternal horror that laughs behind the day.
April 26, 2014
Read because I'm going to Iceland in the summer. I might try another of Laxness's books, but mainly because I wasn't the craziest over this one, and I am going to Iceland, after all. This was like a Hardy novel cut in half, only add 200 pages of the protagonist's philosophical and spiritual ramblings. There are some real ferocious parts to the book, but they are much fewer than the philosophical and spiritual nonsense that we use to look into the protagonist. I would recommend this to no one, but I can't say I didn't enjoy reading it for much of the time.
June 23, 2013
Brilliantly telling line...15 pages of meandering on the soul's torments. Hilarious aside...12 pages on the failings of modern philosophy. Clever description...9 pages on Icelandic weather. And so forth.
January 10, 2015
An amazing journey through the many souls of man.
Only Laxness can throw everything, including the kitchen sink, in and have it work.
Only Laxness can throw everything, including the kitchen sink, in and have it work.
October 12, 2017
I thought I'm on an Iceland binge.... why not continue. Perhaps I wasn't in the right frame of mind, there was little of Iceland in it and mostly unpleasant characters. Not the book for me.
April 25, 2023
I somewhat lost interest in the middle, which started to drag, but it picked up again for the end. I really thought we were meant to find Steinn ridiculous but it does seem like he was basically Laxness' self insert at the time? Insight into the mind of an insane type of guy. This was also one of my favourite works in translation I've read on the strength of the translation. The footnotes literally made up the last 10% of the book.
August 10, 2012
'The Great Weaver from Kashmir' by Halldór Laxness was okay. The book is a translation so some of the poetry I was expecting in the writing may have been missed. At times I found the book slow and could have cheerfully skipped over several pages, especially during the beginning. Ultimately, the book is about a young man, Steinn who leaves Iceland for the continent in order to find himself and experience a better life away from Iceland and the demands of his family. Steinn never manages to grow up and his views on women would have been better suited for the dark ages.
Laxness seems to use 'The Great Weaver from Kashmir' as a platform to explore several theological issues, including many aspects of Catholicism. These theological debates are sometimes interesting, but at times feel a bit excessive when combined with Steinn's boorish behaviour. That said, there are moments of poetry within the book where Laxness has created wonderful similes and comparisons.
Laxness seems to use 'The Great Weaver from Kashmir' as a platform to explore several theological issues, including many aspects of Catholicism. These theological debates are sometimes interesting, but at times feel a bit excessive when combined with Steinn's boorish behaviour. That said, there are moments of poetry within the book where Laxness has created wonderful similes and comparisons.
October 8, 2009
I wrote a long review with quotes that got deleted. Incredibly bizzare book about sums it up. But I cannot resist giving this one quote after all. "It is horrendous to be betrothed to a woman: one can't go for a refreshing walk in the cool of the evening, like the Lord, without having a whole side of female meat hanging on to one. And what's more, a man has to endure this infectious carcass in his bed at night, lying over him, smacking her lips and groaning in her sleep, puffing and snuffling." (p.37) This is said entirely in earnest by the main protagonist. Hard to see why this person got a Nobel prize in literature.... He wrote 60 books and this is one he wrote at 23, but publishing it (for the first time in English!) did him a huge disservice. I am not about to read anything else by him.
September 16, 2015
Well. What an introduction to the author. I may have been as frustrated by some medieval Catholic saint-philosophers back in college as I was by The Great Weaver, but I doubt it. Those authors were easy to write off entirely as tedious, dogmatic, and ignorant. They were simply wrong. But Laxness was so obviously, undeniably brilliant. His words were stark and modern as Hemingway but with an elegance that would make your heart ache. As much as you might want to scream in frustration and throw the book down, you also wanted to turn the page to find the next poetic jewel of philosophic wisdom or penetrating observation.
August 16, 2012
What an amazing book. This is not only a stunning literary work in and of itself, but it is also a great representation of all Icelandic literature has to offer. This groundbreaking author deserves two thumbs up for introducing the world to the Icelandic culture's precise detail and perfectly in-tune voice in modern world literature.
I am very much enjoying this introduction to a culture's contribution to world lit that I have not previously experienced.
I am very much enjoying this introduction to a culture's contribution to world lit that I have not previously experienced.
July 20, 2012
Laxness is one of my favorite authors. This was his first novel, and it reads like it was a first effort. At times it is boring...more a theological debate than a novel. And it is somewhat misogynistic which I don't recall in his later work. Perhaps I missed something. I appreciated his use of humor & irony which would become better developed later on. Definitely an important book for anyone interested in Laxness.
February 18, 2009
Because I want to go to Iceland.
And he understands how an utter ass can be the center of young girl's obsession.
And he understands how an utter ass can be the center of young girl's obsession.
July 2, 2009
I tried, I really did, but I found the earnest search for Absolutes and the national and emotional stereotypes too tiresome.
Read
September 30, 2009Remembering how to see the light behind the visage of things.......in other words, some people don't seek beauty because they bring it.
March 8, 2010
This book can be beautiful when it is not busy philsophising or moaning. disappointing as my first introduction to halldor laxness, though.
May 12, 2012
Overall I was not impressed with this book. I will admit that I was looking forward to this book. The description I had read led me to believe it was of a different nature.
December 27, 2014
ástin, trúin og sannleikurinn.
March 5, 2017
Recognizably Laxness though spotty with some overlong digressions, but even in this first work the magic is there throughout.
July 20, 2022
I read this in preparation for an Icelandic cruise. The descriptions of the mountains, lava flows and light summer nights make me want to be there. The main character is a naive and self-centered young poet who fancies himself as unique an artist as a great weaver from Kashmir while spouting immature modernist philosophy of the early 20th c. He is anti-Christian and pro-Communist as the obvious future of the world. It’s one of the few books I have read that admits to the impact of the horrors of The Great War on the people who want to bury its memory deep in the frivolity of the ’20s. Parts of the story are told in long, detailed letters including TMI from Stein’s mother to his childhood playmate who thankfully doesn’t read all of it.
Early in the story Steinn meets a monk on a train on the continent. After his mother’s death, abandoned by him, Steinn seeks out the monk and converts to Catholicism. He wants to join the monastery, but returns to Iceland to see his family first. But his new-found faith seems to have made no difference in his life; he is every bit as obnoxious and self-centered about God as he was before about his modernist philosophies. In the end he seduces his childhood playmate (or she seduces him). She is now married to his (their?) uncle (I think they were cousins), who commits suicide when she tells him the truth. Meanwhile Steinn has returned to the continent and his Father Confessor. When she comes looking for him, he rejects her and that is the end of the story. Weird. But beautiful writing.
Early in the story Steinn meets a monk on a train on the continent. After his mother’s death, abandoned by him, Steinn seeks out the monk and converts to Catholicism. He wants to join the monastery, but returns to Iceland to see his family first. But his new-found faith seems to have made no difference in his life; he is every bit as obnoxious and self-centered about God as he was before about his modernist philosophies. In the end he seduces his childhood playmate (or she seduces him). She is now married to his (their?) uncle (I think they were cousins), who commits suicide when she tells him the truth. Meanwhile Steinn has returned to the continent and his Father Confessor. When she comes looking for him, he rejects her and that is the end of the story. Weird. But beautiful writing.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 7, 2019
I enjoyed The Fish Can Sing, so I thought I'd try this one. It's a lot different. There's a lot of meandering which I skimmed through. There are some flashes of brilliance, and some lines I will remember, though.
I still haven't finished thinking about the main character or come to an understanding of what kind of person he is, with his selfish poetry opposed to his conversion to Catholicism-- and I'm not sure what the author thinks of him either.
Interesting to have read this right after "Snow" by Orhan Pamuk- seems that novelists always have to think over & explore how they relate, as writers, to the European canon, and to European civilization.
I still haven't finished thinking about the main character or come to an understanding of what kind of person he is, with his selfish poetry opposed to his conversion to Catholicism-- and I'm not sure what the author thinks of him either.
Interesting to have read this right after "Snow" by Orhan Pamuk- seems that novelists always have to think over & explore how they relate, as writers, to the European canon, and to European civilization.
June 10, 2018
Loksins, loksins. Bókin hreif mig ekki. Senurnar í klaustrum Evrópu og sértaklega pælingar varðandi klerkastéttina eldast illa. Afturá móti eru mög góðar frásagnirnarnar um útgerðar- og verslurnarveldið reykvíska. Endirinn er pínu töff en annars er bókin ekki sérlega eftirminnilega á Laxness-mælikvarða.
March 1, 2018
Nothing like Independent People, don't buy it if that's what you are after. Well written but not enjoyable.
March 17, 2023
Dett á milli 3 og 4 stjarna. Textinn og sagan dásamleg en dettur niður við bullið í Steini
February 17, 2023
Naut hverrar sekúndu af lestrinum, mögulega svolitið langir kaflar inna milli af eingöngu trúarpælingum en þær eru svo vel skrifaðar að það þreytti mig ekkert. Steinn Elliði er frábær karakter sem er augljóslega (alter)egó Laxness. Frábær saga um lífið, tilganginn og hamingjuna. Meinlætalíf eða nautnalíf? Andinn eða náttúran? Guð eða djöfullinn?
Skil betur núna hvað Laxness meinar með að barn náttúrunnar hafi sömu þemu og allar hans framtíðarbækur. Þessi bók er nokkurskonar level up af barni náttúrunnar. Gáfur og hugmyndaflug Laxness skína í gegn.
Það eru margar stórkostlegar síður, efnisgreinar og málsgreinar í þessari bók sem karakterísera nákvæmlega það sem ég leitast mest eftir þegar ég neyti einhvers:intellectual humors.
Her eru uppáhalds quoetin:
“Ekkert er viðbjóðslegra en karlmaður sem grætur.”
“Kona á aldrei að sýna karlmanni sál sína í allri nekt. Þegar karlmaður hefur séð til botns í sál konunnar þá lítur hann á líkama hennar einsog tómt ker; og það er eins og hann haldi að kerið muni brotna ef hann snertir það; hann kennir í brjósti um hana og fer.”
“Þegar ég heyri um dáðir manna, spyr ég fyrst: var hann skírlífur? Ég treysti ekki forustu manns sem er vitsmunavera í dag en kynferðisvera í nótt.”
“En ástir takmarkast af kynferði. Ástir eru óhefjanlegar yfir náttúruna. Á annan veg mætti segja um platónskar ástir, að þær séu að vísu til - nema milli karls og konu.”
“Í allan vetur hef ég verið að ala upp í mér þrjár tilhneigingar til að yfirbuga manninn, nefnilega kynvillu, eiturfíkn og sjálfsmorðsfýsn.”
“Gleði lífsins er dauði sá sem svelgir vitund lifandans í botnlausum algleymingi vitfirríngarinnar.”
“Þar liggur veikleiki minn að ógeðslegar ímyndanir eru skjótari til ásóknar en undanhalds.”
Mörg önnur frábær quote en læt þessi duga þangað til ég kem aftur að þessari bók einhvern tímann.
Skil betur núna hvað Laxness meinar með að barn náttúrunnar hafi sömu þemu og allar hans framtíðarbækur. Þessi bók er nokkurskonar level up af barni náttúrunnar. Gáfur og hugmyndaflug Laxness skína í gegn.
Það eru margar stórkostlegar síður, efnisgreinar og málsgreinar í þessari bók sem karakterísera nákvæmlega það sem ég leitast mest eftir þegar ég neyti einhvers:intellectual humors.
Her eru uppáhalds quoetin:
“Ekkert er viðbjóðslegra en karlmaður sem grætur.”
“Kona á aldrei að sýna karlmanni sál sína í allri nekt. Þegar karlmaður hefur séð til botns í sál konunnar þá lítur hann á líkama hennar einsog tómt ker; og það er eins og hann haldi að kerið muni brotna ef hann snertir það; hann kennir í brjósti um hana og fer.”
“Þegar ég heyri um dáðir manna, spyr ég fyrst: var hann skírlífur? Ég treysti ekki forustu manns sem er vitsmunavera í dag en kynferðisvera í nótt.”
“En ástir takmarkast af kynferði. Ástir eru óhefjanlegar yfir náttúruna. Á annan veg mætti segja um platónskar ástir, að þær séu að vísu til - nema milli karls og konu.”
“Í allan vetur hef ég verið að ala upp í mér þrjár tilhneigingar til að yfirbuga manninn, nefnilega kynvillu, eiturfíkn og sjálfsmorðsfýsn.”
“Gleði lífsins er dauði sá sem svelgir vitund lifandans í botnlausum algleymingi vitfirríngarinnar.”
“Þar liggur veikleiki minn að ógeðslegar ímyndanir eru skjótari til ásóknar en undanhalds.”
Mörg önnur frábær quote en læt þessi duga þangað til ég kem aftur að þessari bók einhvern tímann.
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