A historical epic divided in three installments – The Wreath, The Wife and The Cross – that unfolds the life of Kristin Lavrandsatter, a woman of noble ancestry in Medieval Norway, from birth to death. Undset paints a faithful portrayal of an era marked by turbulent dynastic wars and the latent paganism ingrained in the Christian values of a very rigid society, representative of its time. The three novels probe deep into the human, moral and religious conflicts that befall on the protagonist and her family, keeping the narrative pulse alive along its more than a thousand pages.

Undset’s prose is technically irreproachable: a traditional structure, archetypal of the 19thC realistic tradition, with an omniscient third-person narrator that uses relatively short chapters following a linear timeline. The narration focuses on the central heroine of the saga, around which orbits a constellation of secondary characters that presents a full display of the myriad tonalities of human nature depicted from the perspective of the classical struggle between good and evil, light and darkness, punishment and exoneration.
Ambition and the unquenchable thirst for power; the eternal dichotomy of aspiring purity and the repressed carnal desire or the growing sense of estrangement between parents and children saturates the plotline with an unshakable, almost suffocating, sense of guilt, which is the main reason for my lack of enthusiasm for this epic tome.

The resigned attitude showed by Kristin whenever she is delivered a tragic blow brings digressive inner monologues that circle around God-fearing arguments that, in my opinion, taint the luscious descriptions of the Scandinavian landscape and its powerful symbolism. That feature alone prevented me from fully enjoying the indisputable quality of Undset’s descriptive skills. Also, the subtly censorious arguments against natural impulses such as sexual drive and healthy resolution seemed so old-fashioned and anchored in the past that it was incredibly difficult for me to empathize with the characters’ plights, even if such thoughts were according to the era.
In the end, I got the feeling that Undset was somehow impugning the prevailing naturalistic doctrines in the 19thC that vouched for a positive socio-cultural determinism. Her continuous defense of pious sanctity and repentance as means to accept God’s will in a magnanimous, almost sermonizing undertone, endorses the idea of the original sin and prosecutes mankind, leaving no space for historical progress.

Those who dominate the medieval hermeneutics and the biblical allegory will find countless references in Undset’s art and literature. Life, like the river that inexorably advances and drags away the dust of faceless generations, looms larger when it reaches the end.
Even the floral wreaths worn by virginal Norwegian maidens wither with the erosion of lifetimes spent in obsessive repentance; and a thorny cross is all that is left of their testimony.

To blossom in the face of Death, like Undset’s characters do, requires blind faith and that is something an incredulous dilettante like myself can’t indulge in; and so to all those daredevils who think like I do, I toast to life, while it lasts, and to its paradoxical absurdities, which I embrace without pretensions, hoping to reach the end of this bumpy journey with a full heart rather than fearful hope.

Il romanzo racconta la vita di una donna, una donna volitiva, forte, passionale; la seguiamo, passo dopo passo, dall’infanzia fino alla sua morte. Quella di Kristin è una vita travagliata, sofferta (il matrimonio, i figli, i tradimenti del marito, le incomprensioni con la famiglia d’origine, gli sbagli, le colpe…), ma misteriosamente è anche un cammino di redenzione che sfocia, alla fine, in una conversione. E’ uno sguardo positivo quello con cui la Undset accompagna Kristin (e noi) nel suo percorso, tutto il bene e tutto il male sono abbracciati e con il passare del tempo si caricano di significato.
Ambientato in un Medio Evo scandinavo realistico (non fantasy), tra luci ed ombre, santi e peccatori, è un romanzo bellissimo. Un capolavoro.

Seven reasons why I really, really want to love Kristin Lavransdatter…

1) I have long-standing crushes on both Scandinavia and ye olden days, and this book is a free trip straight to the heart of 14th-century Norway. Undset's portrayal of the life of one woman, from childhood until death, is fascinatingly intertwined with the tensions between the Catholic present and pagan traditions in medieval Norway. And her writing so evocative. You can just smell the cook-fire smoke in the wooden rooms, see the vistas of Kristin’s home valley and feel that itchy, stanky homespun tickling the back of your neck.

2) The amount of research Undset put into this project must have been just massive, yet it is integrated seamlessly with the story. None of this, "And now Kristin, you must put on this bridal crown, the wearing of which has been popular among our people from approximately 900 AD, though some records indicate the tradition originated in Sweden," historical-fiction awkwardness for Undset, no siree bob.

3) Kristin is a strong, well-characterized female lead, which is rarer than one would hope and something to appreciate in the fiction world.

4) Undset bestowed convincing three-dimensionality upon the host of characters who parade in an out of her >1100 pages.

5) The book contains some of the most beautiful and powerful descriptions of motherhood and mother-love I have yet encountered in a work of fiction, including the real pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding and sleep-sharing stuff that that doesn’t usually make the cut.

6) Not that I’m a total snob or anything, but…the Nobel Prize, for cripe’s sake!

7) And, to cap it all off, the narrative glue that holds all of this together is an epic love story.

I mean, sounds pretty amazing, right?? What kind of a lover of obsessively-researched historical fiction could fail to be enthralled by this one?

…but just can’t.

Well, as it turns out, the kind that I am, apparently.

So after mulling it over for a while, here’s my major problem with this book:

Stylistically, Undset intertwines a serious realism faithful to the pacing and events of life with the kind of jarring melodrama that would do the soaps proud. And for me, that combo just didn’t work. Even at 1124 pages, this book ain’t big enough for the both of them. And man, I wish the draaama was the one to go. The rest of the book deserves better.

Take Undset’s treatment of death, for instance. Many characters died abruptly with little apparent symbolic purpose in the story which, great. Make this a vividly textured saga with the narrative arc of real life. But then the death of another character was so out there that had Kristin’s amnesiac evil twin showed up instead, it would have felt refreshingly believable by comparison.

And it was similar with the central love story. On the realistic side, we have two passionate people who engage in repetitive loops of guilt, blame, recriminations, frustrations and misunderstandings and long periods of minimal emotional growth. Okay, fine. Painful, but could feel authentic. But then other times, the characters stubbornly adhered to paths that seemed completely at odds with their personalities and the moral world of the book as Undset herself created them, but conveniently led to maximum soap opera-y drama down the road. Which, I think, is why the entire Kristin/Erlend love thing left me cold from beginning to end. Stone cold. Like will-you-guys-shut-up-and-get-out-of-the-story-so-I-can-read-more-about-minor-characters-because-at-least-I-don’t-want-to-throttle-them cold.

Now, I don’t think that unrealistic drama has no place in literature. It totally does. Even Shakespeare did the twins thing. But if you are going to go that route, a spoonful of humor really helps the melodrama go down. Kristin Lavrandatter’s strengths are the vibrancy of its world and Undset’s tone of dignified seriousness. The soapiness just felt silly, and it distracted me from the solemn beauty of the book. Those medieval times: minimal medicine and maximal religious tensions. Plenty of exciting stuff could happen without a single stretch, I promise. The section I ended up liking best focused on the late life of Kristin’s early suitor, because it united the good stuff with emotions and events that felt convincingly human and epic without jumping the shark.

One more tiny issue: Undset’s occasional nonlinearity didn't add much for me. Something totally shocking and unexpected would happen, be dismissed in a couple of sentences, only to be explained after dozens, or even hundreds of pages of waiting. Minor quibble, though.

Overall, I am glad that I read it, but I wanted so badly to luurrrrve it. Oh well. Maybe I should give its evil twin a call…

I read the Oxford Press- Charles Archer translation of Kristin Lavransdatter in 1981. It was the best book I ever read. I would come back & re-read parts of it.

Then Tiina Nunnally did a new translation which was published by Penguin Books in 2005. I am re-reading the entire book 1144 pages. This translation is much easier to follow. The original from 1920 used a lot of English words that are not in commun use today. If anyone has had problems trying to get into this book, I'd suggest they try the new translation. I am now on page 185 & enjoying every word.

I genuinely don't understand what I'm missing here - there were some great quotes and bits here and there that I appreciated, but overall I regret the time I spent on this book. Kristin repeatedly ruins and destroys any love and happiness she could've had with her husband and children. She spends most of the 1000+ pages wallowing in feelings of guilt and shame and inadequacy. The book focuses a lot on Christian forgiveness and the goodness of God, but Kristin rejects all of it, preferring to blame everyone else (mostly her husband) for her failures and shortcomings. I'm not sure what the author's intent was, but Kristin comes off as a hateful, self-absorbed woman, and I struggled to feel any empathy towards her. Honestly, by the end it felt as though the author was as exhausted by her and the book as I was, and then the book just ends, miserably, and without redemption.

“[Kristin] are you so arrogant that you think yourself capable of sinning so badly that God’s mercy is not great enough? . . .” Yes, yes she does. For 1000 miserable pages.

"All my days I have longed equally to travel the right road and to take my own errant path."

I am not a great fan of historical fiction, especially not if the main characters are deeply religious to the point of sacrificing themselves and their happiness in order to be forgiven for their sins (their moments of passion and life, that is!).

So I was not expecting to like Kristin Lavransdotter at all when I started reading the hardback copy I bought for some coins in a secondhand store. I wanted to read it because it is part of the Scandinavian cultural heritage, because it is written by the Nobel Laureate and outstanding storyteller Sigrid Undset, because it is good to move outside your comfort zone sometimes ...

What I didn't expect was the sympathy I all of a sudden developed for the characters. They acted according to beliefs I found ridiculous, and yet their human thoughts and feelings were so clear, so typical, so universal that I couldn't shake them off. They moved in fictional Middle Ages, and yet, modern Scandinavian behaviours and customs shone through each event, and the strange and exotic experience of the harsh geography and climate affected the Medieval cast in the same way it affects busy city dwellers of today.

Kristin herself, stuck between the wish to do the right thing by her father and her faith and to experience true passion, could be living in any place and any time. She is a symbol for a timeless female dilemma, and her choices mirror countless women's lives.

Unable to resist the strong, powerful charisma of a "bad guy", Erlend, she experiences both the bliss of passion and the drudgery of life shared with an irresponsible, happy-go-lucky man - instead of stable, yet boring companionship with a man of her father's choice.

Driven by her fear of her god and her belief that she has to atone for the sin of unlawful love, she eventually ends her life as a nun, dying while trying to help other people during the plague, a kind of late punishment for allowing herself a moment of freedom of choice beyond the limits of conventions.

What makes Kristin interesting to me is her strong will, her power to fight for what she thinks worth fighting for, her willingness to face the disappointments in life and to accept the consequences of her own decisions. Within the framework of a Medieval melodrama, Sigrid Undset manages to create the portrait of a strong woman ready to cope both with her own shortcomings and with those of the men in her care.

Even though Erlend is weak, there are valid reasons why Kristin felt attracted to him, and she acknowledges that facet in herself and dares to act on her feelings. I like that!

Recommended -despite myself!

This is a beautiful book if it's what you're looking for: a sustained character study and a poignant, ultimately tragic, look at the ultimate futility of earthly life from an author with an authentic sympathy for the medieval mindset. At 1124 pages, it follows essentially the entirety of a medieval Norwegian noblewoman's life, from her childhood through a torrid, illicit affair, through her resulting troubled marriage, and beyond.

It is a character study. It is essentially plotless. Only rarely does anything the characters do affect their world at large, despite their being in a position to do so. Instead, the book is an organic product of the choices that the characters make, whether freely or due to their inherent flaws or their acquired vices or virtues.

I think this book was especially powerful to me because the main character, like me, is on the one hand quite religious, and yet she is not able to resist the temptation to do things she despises, and she hurts so many people that she loves so dearly. She likewise has to face the daily struggle of being charitable to others even when they annoy her, worry her, or make clear mistakes that she wishes she could prevent them from making.

There are two male characters whose lives you get to see in great detail as well, and they make a powerful study in contrasts. Almost no one in these 1100 pages is completely unsympathetic. Everyone has their own motivations, and you find out the secrets that they carry, the burdens that weigh them down of which they never speak. It's powerful, it's haunting...authentic is the word that keeps coming back to mind.

I deliberately chose to read this book in order to learn better how to write characters in a non-modern mindset, and I find myself richly rewarded. If I were to put together a curriculum on How To Write Non-Trash Fantasy, this book would hold a prominent place.

2024
Even better the second time. A story that will have new contours to find as one gets older and goes through different stages of life... since we get to observe Kristin (and her vices and sins played out) from womb to tomb.

2022
The epic trilogy is over! The newest translation was surprisingly easy to follow and the story swept me up. I do think this will be a re-read (listen) in the future, so as to capture some details and threads I missed. What a ride, though.
Gonna listen to this chat (between Jessica Hooten Wilson & Haley Stewart) again, now that I've actually made it through the novel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-798V...

A grand Nordic saga set in 14th-century Norway that won the 1928 Nobel Prize in Literature, Sigurd Unset’s book portrays a passionate, strong-willed woman ‘following her heart.’ The book is known for its accurate portrayal of life in the Middle Ages. If you like Dostoyesky’s Brother’s Karamoz, you may enjoy this one as well. If you are Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox, you will love this book!

The author’s masterful art, in my estimation, was the well-crafted sentences and the historical feel more than in the story itself. Nunnelly’s translation was well done and sounded great in English. The Latin should have been translated, but perhaps modern Roman Catholics would already know these traditional Latin prayers.


While this book often receives high praise, I did not find that the author wrote a compelling story arc. At its core, it’s about a how Kristin sinned and spent 1000 pages to try and repent. You might call it a soap opera in the Middle Ages, that just keeps going for too many seasons. Or perhaps a sad drama in a world where you can never really atone (or have Someone else atone) for your sins. Or more so an lengthy tale of a passionate, yet struggling woman living in a world of superstitious religion and constant doubts of salvation, always considering whether the monastic life or the secular life is the right path. In the end almost everyone dies from the Black Death in a gruesome manner. Kristin eventually dies of it too, out of touch with her children and barely having seen most of her grandchildren. Yet she did help the poor and needy throughout her life and later become a nun. Does she die a saint?

Personally, for a better time investment give me Beowulf, Homer, Dante, Shakespeare or Dickens over Kristin Lavransdatter. I do not consider Unset’s work even close to those great classics of the Western canon.

I started getting interested in Kristin Lavransdatter this past winter. I really want to visit Norway for some time, and I wanted to learn more about Europe in the Middle Ages. If you want to read about medieval times without getting bored, this book is a great choice. I am glad I spent the summer reading this book, since it included so much history and such unique characters. (By the way, reading about the Middle Ages during the summer is a unique experience, and I strongly recommend it.) However, it is more than just a historical novel about the Middle Ages. The characters have really insightful feelings that make you want to understand the world. Every character is complex and not simply good or bad, which makes the most interesting characters. Kristin Lavransdatter is about a passionate and courageous woman who is from a good, noble upbringing in medieval Norway. She marries Erlend Nikulaussøn and becomes a mother to seven sons, who are all fair and comely. Kristin and Erlend have a tempestuous life together. Kristin Lavransdatter has trouble in her relationships with her parents and her husband, but she finds comfort and conciliation in her Catholic faith. I really enjoyed this book, because the characters seem very real and it is historically accurate. Sigrid Undset is a very insightful person. Kristin Lavransdatter won the Nobel Prize in 1928 for its accurate and vivid descriptions of the Middle Ages. It is clear the author put her heart into this masterpiece, this epic historical novel. Kristin Lavransdatter is a spirited heroine who is very memorable. It is a story of love, emotions, marriage, motherhood, and life's mysteries. It was very worthwhile.

The epic of all re-readable epics, Kristin Lavransdatter is a three book series that must be read through to the end, for it is one story covering the whole life of the protagonist.

It is set in Norway in the 14th Century, a time and place where faith was intricately interwoven with life, and when land and family, inheritance and name were the full extent of one's identity - Lavransdatter means daughter of Lavrans.

Yet it is also a familiar and human story about the love and enmity between people, about the decisions we face, the choices we make, and their consequences for ourselves and others. And that somehow, precisely through the sufferings brought about through our mistakes, we learn the true meaning and value and joy of life. It is not an easy journey; there are many mistakes and they require a mature readership.

Undset has illustrated a world that is so far from our own, but through her narrative she somehow makes us feel that we have learned about our own history. It's life-changing.

I couldn't write anything to do this book justice. It's like I lived a lifetime between its covers, and walked a long pilgrimage barefoot.

That Bible verse comes to mind, Oh wretched man that I am, who will deliver me from this body of death?

What does it look like when we continually choose our own will, and not the will of the Father for us? How can we say that we love Him, when we love our will more?

But here is the salve for this broken heart: "All love will one day meet with its return." George MacDonald, Phantastes