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A Life Worth
Celebrating: Kristin Lavransdatter, by Sigrid Undset
By Marilyn Green Faulkner
This
epic story tracing the life of one Norwegian woman in the fourteenth
century holds a mirror up to life that reflects the timeless nature
of the trials, joys and fears we all face.
It
happens this way: you’re young, in love, and you cannot listen to
your better judgment telling you that you are making a mistake;
each passing year shows you the folly of your choice, yet you make
the best of it and build a life of honor. Perhaps you are a parent,
and you have a child who is the special treasure of your heart,
yet she chooses to marry a man whom you cannot respect. Or you are
older and your grandchildren come for a visit: they are unruly,
ill mannered, and hard to enjoy, yet you watch their faces as they
sleep and revel in their perfect beauty.
Maybe
you have a spouse you love dearly, yet between you there are long-standing
resentments that are hard to get past. Other days, the two of you
feel so much joy and fulfillment in the children you have raised
and the life you have built together that you wonder why those tense
times must plague your relationship. As you grow older your faith
in God grows, but your faith in mankind suffers. Or vice versa.
Finally you lay dying, and all of the trials, resentments, fears
and challenges seem as nothing to you. There is only the love between
you and your spouse, your faith and your quiet joy in the lives
of your children and their children.
I
could be talking about moments in your life or the lives of those
close to you. In reality, I am recounting moments from a remarkable
trilogy of novels titled Kristin Lavransdatter, by Sigrid
Undset. In an epic story tracing the life of one Norwegian woman
in the fourteenth century, Undset holds a mirror up to life that
reflects the timeless nature of the trials, joys and fears we all
face.
Hailed
by Critics
Sigrid Undset
was the first woman to win the Nobel Prize for Literature, awarded
to her in 1928 for this remarkable trilogy. Her heroine, Kristin
Lavransdatter, was hailed by some critics as the first real woman
in literature. She is a fully realized human being, with a noble
heart and many flaws. We meet Kristin as the lovely, slightly spoiled
daughter of a Norwegian nobleman and follow her progress through
marriage, motherhood and the onset of old age. Along the way we
are introduced to an unforgettable cast of supporting characters.
Most memorable, to me, is the relationship between Kristin’s father
and mother. Undset captures the subtle difficulties and the deep
joys of a long, faithful marriage. When, after thirty-four years,
Lavrans becomes ill and knows he must die, they begin to communicate
without barriers, yet still with a dignified restraint, in one of
the most beautiful exchanges I have ever read. (Its spare beauty,
in fact, reminds me of the sweet last moments between Cordelia and
King Lear.) Lavrans places on her finger his own ring, one that
he had requested never be taken from his finger. Ragnfrid gazes
down at her betrothal ring, her wedding ring, and now this last,
to be worn after his death.
“She felt it
– with this last ring he had wedded her again. When in a little
while, she sat over his lifeless body, he willed she should know
that with this ring he had espoused to her the strong and living
force that had dwelt in that dust and ashes…Through the pitchy darkness
that was coming she saw the glimmer of another, milder sun, she
smelt the scent of the herbs in the garden at the world’s end…
Lavrans laid
his wife’s hand back in her lap, and sat down on the bench, a little
way from her, with his back to the board, and one arm upon it. He
looked not at her, but gazed into the hearth-fire.
When she spoke
again, her voice was calm and quiet:
“I had not thought,
my husband, that I had been so dear to you.”
“Aye, but you
were”; he spoke as evenly as she.” (505)
I am quoting
here from the first major translation of Undset’s work, by a man
named Charles Archer. Since that time another translation by a woman
named Nunnally has taken precedence. Archer uses a medieval-sounding
jargon for his translation that can be hard to follow at times,
yet this is the translation I first read and I found it charming.
Nunnally, using the theory that even medieval Norwegians would not
sound medieval to each other, uses a more contemporary colloquial
jargon that will be easier to read. Her translation is said to
be more accurate and less precious than Archer’s.
This is a book
that invites you into another world, yet leaves you with many insights
about your own. One woman summed up her experience with the novel
in this way:
“I read the
Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy the first time because I liked the
cover - I admit it. At first I thought, what does a woman from the
Middle Ages in Norway have to do with me - a woman in the 1970's
in Orange County, CA and then I discovered my Kristin. She still
feels like an old friend. I have re-discovered her many times, as
a new wife, a new mother, and now as I am entering my 40's. I see
something different in her and discover something different in me
- with each read.”
I don’t know
anyone who hasn’t loved this book – I speak of it as one book because
my old hardbound version has all three novels bound together as
one – and I have recommended it to many. One critic called it “the
finest historical novel our 20th century has yet produced,”
and another claimed that “as a novel it must be ranked with the
greatest the world knows today.” A reader commented, “Times may
change, but through the ages women face the same trials, heartbreaks,
and responsibilities that are unique in our roles as daughters,
mothers and wives. Reading this book, I received insight into my
own life and future.”
As does any
good historical novel, Kristin Lavransdatter immerses us
in the details of life in another age. We know what’s for dinner,
how it is eaten and what the room looks like where it is served.
We come to understand the church, and the strange combination of
pagan superstition and Christian faith that guided the people of
that day. Kristin’s weaknesses, joys and sorrows are so deftly shown
through dialogue and inner monologue, that we begin to feel that
we know her intimately, and cannot help but love her as others do.
We move from political intrigue to the most mundane details of rural
life, from deep spiritual insights to moments of selfishness and
stress. In other words, we share a whole life, not the varnished
version of a life presented with a hidden agenda. There is a power
in the goodness of her parents and in her upbringing that emerges
in Kristin and enables her to face the consequences of her youthful
impetuousness. In the meantime, we are enriched, entertained, and
inspired by her love of life.
Kristin
Lavransdatter is the October selection for the Best Books Club,
a gathering of readers who share a love for classic literature.
Join us on our website at www.thebestbooksclub.com, or send
your comments on this or any other novel to bestbooks@meridianmagazine.com.
After Kristin we’ll need something light, so our selection for
November is the delightful romp down the Thames, Three Men in
a Boat, by Jerome K. Jerome. You will love it. Either of
these great books would make a perfect holiday gift! Enjoy.
*
* * * *
Our discussion
last month of Lost Horizon drew several comments about Utopia:
I haven't read
the books mentioned, and these comments are based solely on my reactions
to the article in Meridian.
The term 'Utopia' means 'no place' and was coined to mean just that.
To search for a 'Utopia' is to search for something that does not,
cannot exist. The blandness of the book mentioned in the review
gives us an additional hint -- who was it that wanted a 'vanilla
pudding' existence for us? He will eventually be placed in that
'no place' -- namely, outer darkness.
We see the ultimate need to be 'some place', and that place is defined
by contrasts to the 'no place' of an imagined Utopia. We want to
return home to the comforts of Father, having suffered through the
trials of mortality, and certainly we expect more than a 'vanilla
pudding' blandness for our efforts against the horrors of mortality.
The offer of a 'vanilla pudding' existence is another of those false
blandishments we so strongly struggle against.
The 'Problem of Sin' the philosophers struggle with? Nay, it is
the 'Necessity of Sin' to give us sharp contrast to provide the
clarity of our vision. Without it, we are as a hog on ice, nothing
to push against, and we are then 'no where', Utopia.
Utopia? No thanks, don't want it.
Tracy
-----
More profound
is his book, RANDOM HARVEST. Do you agree?
Linda
-----
I agree that
the concept of utopia is essential to Latter-day Saint theology.
Central to our hope is to return to our Heavenly Father, and to
acquire His state of existence, godhood. Many descriptions of our
Heavenly Father exist, but several seem to come to the fore. He
is love. He doesn't merely possess love for His children, and
His creations. His nature is love. He is a creator, and The Creator.
His works never end, His words never end. His children never end,
hence the scripture "My work and my glory is to bring to pass
the immortality and eternal life of man". As Latter-day Saints
our goal is to perfect ourselves to attain godhood, return and live
like our heavenly parents and live in a state of utopia!
Charlotte
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