But then I could just as well take these old leather gloves and hang them up on that ray of sunshine over there.’ If I had the proper faith and love, I wouldn’t stand here and lie to Brother Aasulv. But they’re so nervous about their books here in this house. But when one of the monks came in, Brother Edvin said he was merely looking for a donkey’s head to to copy.Īfterward he shook his head at himself. They contained the most beautiful pictures.

For reference, I am reading the Tiina Nunnally translation from 1997.īrother Edvin took Kristin into the sacristry and showed her the monastery’s books, which were displayed on stands.

Over all, it’s really readable, evidenced mostly by the fact that I pretty much read it straight through. The dialog is a little stilted, but it doesn’t sound false or heavy. From what I can gather about various translations of the novel, early translations made this out as if it were written in medieval Norway, not just set in it, but the language in this newer translation is older (the books were written in 1920ish) but not antiquated, and certainly not ancient by any means. The language in the book is rich and flowery at times, but it’s not overly baroque. (Spoiler: In the second book as she gets older, she starts to anxiously reflect on her younger self and her choices and admonish her misdeeds…ie like everyone over the age of 25 does). You see her choices, see her limitations, follow along with her mistakes, but neither the book nor the other characters treat her as a pariah. What I mean by this is she is neither a feminist firebrand, nor a hapless victim. It’s honest, while still being discreet it’s realistic about its characters, while not allowing prevailing mores to set the moral and emotional tones by themselves.

It’s not really a salacious book by our standards, and reads like the post-19th century novel that it is. This first section primarily deals with her childhood, her adolescence, and her various courtships, love affairs, and troubling experiences with sexuality and her own identity (religious and sexual). These novels trace the personal history of Kristin Lavransdatter, a medieval Norwegian noblewoman from her birth through….well, I will have to see when I read the third novel. Sigrid Undset won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1928, in large part because of this trilogy of novels. I kid in the headline, but this really does involve a large introspective journey into the natures of Sin and Faith.

Kristin lavransdatter book review