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Min kamp 2 (Min kamp #2)
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Min kamp 2 (Min kamp #2) (2009)

Sarjat: Taisteluni (2)

JäseniäKirja-arvostelujaSuosituimmuussijaKeskimääräinen arvioMaininnat
1,0304615,252 (4.2)75
"A six-volume work of fiction by the Norwegian author, Karl Ove Knausgaard"--
Jäsen:lehrer21
Teoksen nimi:Min kamp 2 (Min kamp #2)
Kirjailijat:
Info:Publisher Unknown, 563 pages
Kokoelmat:Oma kirjasto
Arvio (tähdet):*****
Avainsanoja:-

Teoksen tarkat tiedot

Taisteluni. Toinen kirja (tekijä: Karl Ove Knausgård) (2009)

  1. 00
    A Life's Work: On Becoming a Mother (tekijä: Rachel Cusk) (JuliaMaria)
  2. 00
    En tid for alt (tekijä: Karl Ove Knausgård) (JuliaMaria)
    JuliaMaria: Das Ringen um den Roman "Alles hat seine Zeit" wird im autobiografischen Werk "Lieben" beschrieben.
  3. 00
    Tervetuloa Amerikkaan (tekijä: Linda Boström Knausgård) (JuliaMaria)
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» Katso myös 75 mainintaa

englanti (29)  hollanti (8)  ruotsi (2)  saksa (2)  norja (1)  norjan bokmål (1)  katalaani (1)  espanja (1)  Kaikki kielet (45)
Näyttää 1-5 (yhteensä 45) (seuraava | näytä kaikki)
“And it is never easy to confront life-changing news, especially when you are deeply embroiled in the everyday and the banal, which we always are. They absorb almost everything, make almost everything small, apart from the few events that are so immense they lay waste to all the everyday trivia around you. Big news is like that and it is not possible to live inside it.”

The second volume of Knausgård’s autobiographical epic, My Struggle, is a stirring and scorching unfurling of (perhaps, also a perpetual attempt at reconciling) entangled, intersecting roles performed in life’s existential theatre. There is Knausgård as a writer, Knausgård as a husband, a father, a son, and a friend. As he dons each of them on like costumes from a Scandinavian rack, immense yearning for solitude often cuts the performance, rearing the ugly heads of brief unhappiness and regret opposite the conflict and contradiction of these roles. My Struggle Vol. 2, akin to its predecessor, is not a histrionic account, however. Instead, it firmly holds its candour and sensitivity. It is also an unvarnished contemplation of history and culture, of years accumulated from a quotidian sense of living, how nothing ever stops in its bouts; how time passed cannot be regained, only repetitiously reminisced in different perceptions.

At the beginning of the book, Knausgård is already living with his children and second wife, Linda, in Sweden, until it turns its pages back to his separation with his first wife, Tonje, and his ultimate resolve to leave Norway. The biting Swedish winter upon his arrival thaws in the romantic warmth that gradually flourishes between him and Linda. But it soon becomes a stifling situation—a tumultuous affair where heavenly highs follow hellish lows, where hot and cold throttle each other in a supposed atmosphere of devotion. While My Struggle Vol. 2 pullulates itself with morning and evening walks, dinners with friends, bookshop excursions, and car rides, it is also engrossingly introspective. Knausgård rejoices and laments fatherhood, without censorship and sugar-coated platitudes. This is deftly described during Linda’s labour at the hospital, a profoundly tearful experience for Knausgård until its spell dissipates. A few days later, he is gnawed by his need to be alone and write. Gender norms also hinder him in fully appreciating fatherhood, often questioning the effects of masculinity, the good in him that seems to dissolve every time he can’t subdue his anger and discomfort. These appear in usual activities like pushing the stroller in a park, even dancing with his daughter during a Rhythm Time class for babies. In turn, through his parental anecdotes, fathers and mothers become more human instead of towering figures who can do no wrong; wrongly seen as omniscient and omnipresent. Although male sexuality also appears in a few paragraphs now and then, it is incomprehensible (even alienating) for me as a (lesbian) woman. Physicality of attraction seems to get the gears going for men rather easily. The initial sight of appealing female body parts already arouses the imagination. Knausgård intriguingly inspects this as well though without much force as his other behavioural inspections of the self.

The political ambience of the late 2000s also visits some of the paragraphs of My Struggle Vol. 2. Knausgård is prescient as he challenges the destructive and hypocritical notions of radical-left goodness. Language is currently continuously sifted, even canceled, for reasons that seem to reach preposterous heights, without any room for nuance and respectful discourse. People push for a utopia that only creates more disparity, even more discord.

Similar with its previous instalment, what deems My Struggle Vol. 2 an existential affirmation is its graze with mortality. How it manifests itself clearer when it wears out and wearies the people closest to us. Threads of grey grow from their heads, wrinkles crawl from their eyes and mouths, the slow deterioration of their bodies. Ageing erodes a certain look, a certain movement. Incidentally, we seldom observe them in ourselves until we pay more attention on the mirror, the clock, these rolls of calendars removed from the wall. And it is in these moments that My Struggle Vol. 2 leaves an emptiness entwined with the patches of beauty of living; contentment. Life sure is sharper, more real, even frighteningly fragile, at its closing pages. Aptly subtitled “A Man in Love”, this is loving not restrained by the perimeters of romance, but as an encompassing splendour of truly appreciating art and people and ourselves. ( )
  lethalmauve | Sep 28, 2021 |
A bit slower to begin with, rather than the explosive opening of Pt 1. But it picked up and I thoroughly enjoyed Pt. 2. ( )
  jaydenmccomiskie | Sep 27, 2021 |
I'm torn between taking part in the backlash against the Knausgaard hype--because, let's be honest, there are plenty of authors more deserving of front page attention from every newspaper, magazine and website with 'New York' in the title--and trying to get in early on the revisionism to the backlash, by pointing out that although Knausgaard is not Proust or Woolf, nor is he trying to be, and it's not his fault that every newspaper, magazine and website with 'New York' in the title decided to put him on their cover at the same moment. Frankly, the idea that any serious author could possibly drum up that level of support before s/he is dead is rather heartening.

Which will it be, I wonder, backlash or revisionism-to-the-backlash? Probably more backlash, I admit, but while lashing back I will try to remember that, read on its own terms rather than in the context of Knausgaard-is-the-new-black rhetoric, this book is an ideal airplane novel. In fact, Knausgaard's real achievement is probably that he's written a book that compels you to turn the pages, while also not being a complete idiot. If contemporary literture is any guide, that puts him in a class of one.

On the other hand, I'm more than a little concerned that the book is so readable just because it makes the life I (and probably most of his other readers) lead seem epic and worthy of attention. That makes me feel a warm glow. I recognize the things that Karl Ove goes through in the book. I relate to him.

Karl Ove Knausgaard, in short, turns me into a high school senior, reading only books in which the main character looks, feels, talks and acts like the reader him or herself. I look forward to finishing the series and writing an essay or review: "Karl Ove Knausgaard is More Dangerous to Literature than Harry Potter."

More seriously: Knausgaard is a literary existentialist who knows that i) he's a literary existentialist and ii) knows that being a literary existentialist is more than a little silly. He very self-consciously flips back and forth between his Holderlin mood (oh world! how beauteous thou art!) and his Bernhard mood (fuck off). He is ultra-individualistic, and recognizes that this causes him problems and pain, but can't quite break out of it. This level of reflection raises this volume far above the first, and gives me reason to keep reading. No mean feat.

It helps that his friend Geir is a total champion, and that Knausgaard is willing to let another voice provide some context on his (the author's) life. I hope for more Geir to come. ( )
  stillatim | Oct 23, 2020 |
Took a while to get into it and I left it aside after around 100 pages for almost 2 months, but was hooked again after the break. For better or worse, I've never read an author who so perfectly captures how I see the world. ( )
  arewenotben | Jul 31, 2020 |
It was good, but I can't read another one of these.

The first volume held me spellbound. While still weighty in comparison with many other books, it felt lean, with no fluff. Every discursion served the novel in the end. Unfortunately, it's not so for the second.

For whatever reason, in the second volume Knausgård seems to have lost his razor sharp focus on theme. While the text itself is enjoyable to read, the deeper connection between events is just missing for me. It's like this. The sacred in the mundane is a very Knausgårdian feature. He achieved it here, but in fits and starts. What I couldn't stand were the absolutely banal passages [see pg. 430 below] that neither served as a peak moment nor as groundwork towards future peaks.

What's more, this book was decently longer than the first. I can only suspend judgment for so long, and the style of the series demands suspension of payoff- through long sections that diverge from the points of the previous section. And all this is exacerbated by the lack of chapters. Yes, it's just text and story from start to finish, 660 pages of it in a row.

And in the end, it feels like it's not about anything at all. I feel like some people say that's the point of these books, but the first volume was clearly about the juxtaposition of death and growing up. It had a strong vision that volume two lacks.

On the whole, I cannot imagine wading through 4 more similarly sized books of this. What I've written above may sound like I hated the book, but I liked it for what it is. Still, I've gotta be done now. But I'm still really interested to see what his other (non My Struggle) works are like. Maybe i'll grab Autumn next.

[pg. 430: (don't worry, this spoils absolutely nothing)

My mobile rang in my pocket. I took it and looked at the display. Yngve.
'Hi?' I said.
'Hi,' he answered. 'How's it going?'
'Fine. How about you?'
'Yep, fine.'
'Good. Yngve, we're about to go into a cafe. Can I ring you later? This afternoon some time? Or was there something in particular?'
'No, nothing. We can talk later.'
'Bye.'
'Bye.'
I put the mobile back in my pocket.
'That was Yngve,' I said.
'Is he all right?' Linda asked.
I shrugged.
'I don't know. But I'll call him afterwards.'

(All that apropos of nothing, for nothing's sake. Really.)] ( )
  jakebornheimer | Mar 27, 2019 |
Näyttää 1-5 (yhteensä 45) (seuraava | näytä kaikki)

» Lisää muita tekijöitä (34 mahdollista)

Tekijän nimiRooliTekijän tyyppiKoskeeko teosta?Tila
Knausgård, Karl Oveensisijainen tekijäkaikki painoksetvahvistettu
Acedo, Sara R.Suunnittelijamuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Alsberg, RebeccaKääntäjämuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Asunción, LorenzoKääntäjämuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Şahin, HaydarKääntäjämuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Baggethum, KirstiKääntäjämuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Ballerini, EdoardoKertojamuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Bartlett, DonKääntäjämuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Braga, Guilherme da SilvaKääntäjämuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Harrison, ChrisCover photomuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Huttunen, KatriinaKääntäjämuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Liebrand, KimKääntäjämuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Llisterri, AnnaKääntäjämuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Majnarić, AnjaKääntäjämuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Molenaar, MarianneKääntäjämuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Tüzel, EbruKääntäjämuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu
Torsten AdlerKertojamuu tekijäeräät painoksetvahvistettu

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29 juli 2008 / Het is een lange zomer geweest en hij is nog steeds niet voorbij. Op 26 juni had ik het eerste deel van mijn romancyclus af en sindsdien, al meer dan een maand, zijn Vanja en Heidi thuis van de crèche met alles wat dat aan dagelijkse drukte met zich meebrengt.
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