The Evocative title lured me into buying this book. Will you be haunted by past events that forever changed your life. His wife's face, only three years buried is starting to disappear, but after a stranger approaches one day, for Trond, the year of 1948 is brought back to life with vivid clarity, as if it happened yesterday. There is a rich store of allusion here, imagery that fills, language that offers structure and beauty in support of its aims, story-telling craft that mostly worked very well. But at the end, despite the beautiful writing, I was struck by a slight sense of inconsequence. Though he has lived most of his life in the city, he began life in a small place not unlike the one he is now in.
When he returned to them on the conclusion of the war, it was as if a stranger had returned. Certainly, it is something that fundamentally affects Trond's life. Will you be haunted by past events that forever changed your life. The diction of Out Stealing Horses is as sparse and elegant as the chronology is complicated. Wunderbar geschrieben in einer Sprache, die klar ist und wasserhell, zart und eindringlich, menschennah und gänzlich ohne Sentimentalität. That's what you learn from; when things happen. Pure, unadulterated ambivalence Chronology is linear but lived experience is not.
Миризмата се носеше откъм пътеката при реката, изпълваше въздуха, рееше се над водата, отпускаше ме и замайваше главата ми. I am not going to change anything anymore. Trond seems to have given us the central mysteries of his life. So, I started reading the book this week, and I was almost cursing the woman from the kitchen. There is scant talk and much mystery, giving the 67-year-old narrator a lot to ponder.
It starts out as your typical autumn recalls the beginning of Summer type story as an older man, settling into a basic cottage by a lake in search of solitude plainly a hard task, but someone has to do it in southern Norway, hard by the border with Sweden recalls his youth in the same area. Is it a good or a bad thing? I have focused my attention on the hours I get, and although they are not many, I need them in a completely different way than before. . Funny how that comes through even in translation from the Norwegian. Aber es ist ein verführerisches Buch.
Genauso kann man darüber staunen, wie still es in diesem Buch ist, obwohl so viel darin geschieht. We travel back and forth between the present, 1999, and 1948 when he was a fifteen-year-old, living with his father in a summer place. The falling tree in the story plays a huge role in Trond moving forward with his life, without coming to terms with his past with Lars they cannot move the tree. Sixty-seven-year-old Trond has settled into a rustic cabin in an isolated area to live the rest of his life with a quiet deliberation. Naturally, she took a seat. So while the potatoes are boiling I go into the bedroom and change my trousers, put on a clean white shirt and go back to the kitchen and lay a cloth on the table before putting butter in the frying pan to fry the fish I have caught in the lake myself.
If I could I would have given it 3. Yet he depends on Dickens, Tolstoy, and Rimbaud, seeking with their aid improved self-understanding. Generally, acceptance is as much as we can hope for, and that is not by my lights an unacceptable conclusion at all. It might just be that I'm a sucker for these novels about quiet old men reflecting solemnly on the events of their lives, but I really enjoyed this one and I'm definitely planning on reading it again some day. Trond experiences strong emotions but has difficulty or is perhaps resistant to expressing those emotions.
Though an avid reader in the present, Trond spent his childhood watching movies, and so in a temporally counterintuitive conceit, the great books of the past fill his present and references to film evoke his past. Not that it should pass quickly or slowly, but be only time, be something I live inside and fill with physical things and activities that I can divide it up by, so that it grows distinct to me and does not vanish when I am not looking. This language suits the setting perfectly - aging Trond has retreated to a cabin in remote wilderness, to a very simple life he doesn't own a phone and not even his children know where he is. This is a wonderful book, and I love it. A shipwrecked man without an anchor in the world except in his own liquid thoughts where time has lost its sequence. He shows us a man, we see his loses, his pain, his suffering but yet do we truly know him? Will you be proud of your actions? Beings in 1999 with Trond living alone in solitude in the forest after the loss of his wife and sister yet flashes back to his adventurous days as a child.
Previously he had worked for years in a factory as an unskilled labourer, as his parents had done before him, and had als Petterson knew from the age of 18 that he wanted to be a writer, but didn't embark on this career for many years - his debut book, the short story collection Aske i munnen, sand i skoa, Ashes in the Mouth, Sand in the Shoes was published 17 years later, when Petterson was 35. The landscape is a big part of the story and it is always beautifully integrated with the action. Do you think it has happened to Trond? Jon's father died shortly after that from injuries he obtained from chopping trees down. The novel opens with a tragedy that befalls the narrator's best friend in that long-ago summer, and it seems that will become the fulcrum of the plot -- but it turns out only to be a tangential part of the story. He doesn't have a telephone and hasn't been in touch with his daughters in a while. Do we really decide for ourselves when we get hurt? He is never going to become that man.
Dennoch setzte ich mich wieder auf, schwang die Beine aus dem Bett, stellte die Fusse auf den Boden und suchte im Dunkeln nach meinen Kleidern, die über dem Rücken eines Sprossenstuhls hingen. Sometimes they fly dizzily off after the impact, other times they fall and lie struggling in the new snow until they can take off again. The story jumps back to the present day where Lars and Trond help each other cut fire wood and haul it in. This photograph was taken in the early 1900s and was featured on a post card produced by the Brisley Drug Company in Prescott, Arizona. Suffice to say there is more to Jon's family than first suggested.