The thought police aren't very happy with Karl Ove these days and that's all the more reason to read him! I enjoyed book two much more than book one as he takes aim on Swedish political correctness and dares to share his true feelings on the shame of being a house-husband. His hilarious stories about pushing a stroller around Stockholm are some of the best cuckolded male scenarios in literature, ranking right up there Leopold Bloom. I've also endured the humiliation of dancing around a room waving scarves amongst mommies in music-and-me classes and will always appreciate Karl Ove sharing his shame! This brooding, lovable Norwegian doesn't seem to care what the critics think. He even had the nerve to say in an interview that he felt it was his job to tell, not show (gasp!), in his writing! I devoured this volume and can't wait for number three to be released in English. With Volume One having set the tone for Karl Ove Knausgaard's massive autobiographical novel, readers who reach for Volume Two will find themselves in familiar stylistic territory, populated with hyperlinks, chronological see-saws, meditations on art and life, and straightforward and drawn-out accounts of animated interactions with friends. Woven into those patterns, the second installment covers Knausgaard's separation from his wife, his abrupt relocation from Norway to Sweden, his partnership with his new girlfriend Linda, and the births and early years of their three children. Not unexpectedly, the timeline is uneven -- the author's first child, Vanja, figures prominently in these pages (including an extended, gripping description of her birth), whereas his second child's first year passes in a single sentence, and she (like child #3) receives scant attention overall. Presumably, the younger two will be given their due later on; there's plenty of time remaining.Knausgaard's painfully honest self-examination is again on display here. He is something of a tortured soul, striving to live an authentic life on his own terms and beholden to nobody else, but he is frequently derailed by circumstances and events, many of which are of his own making. Herein lies the source of the whole project's title: "So the life I led was not my own. I tried to make it mine, this was my struggle, because of course I wanted it, but I failed, the longing for something else undermined all my efforts." [p. 67]Knausgaard's struggle is multidimensional. He simultaneously harbors both love and resentment toward his children and toward Linda. He deeply values the process of writing, but he frequently deplores what he has produced. He expresses disdain for writers who seek fame and publicity, yet he submits himself to interviews and photographic sessions, and he looks himself up on Google. In some respects, his memory is so deficient that his friend Geir describes his brain as "like Swiss cheese without the cheese" [p. 480], but he is capable of painting a beautiful and detailed verbal picture of how the sky looked on a particular evening many years ago. He tends to think of himself in rather modest terms, yet he has embarked on the extraordinarily immodest enterprise of featuring himself in a 3,000 page autobiographical work.Perhaps it's the complexity reflected in such contradictions that makes Knausgaard's work so enticing. That plus the fact that he magically creates art out of rather ordinary lives. Next volume, please.
Do You like book A Man In Love (2009)?
Complete fascination. Now fully invested in the brooding Norwegian's life.
—Salo
termina e na mesma hora dá vontade de reler.
—guelo
