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This is a fine piece of historical fiction, taking place in 13th century Norway and the first of four in a series. It’s a translation by Tiina Nunnally, and while there are other English translations in print, they are older and less deft, with more unsteadiness to the prose and considerably different titles (‘Vows’ was originally called ‘the Axe’), and this review recommends that you read the edition marked here. Of course, at the date noted above you’ll have to wait with bated breath for the second volume in this tetralogy to be translated and published (and a fine looking volume this one is, with a gleaming dark cover and medieval grey-toned font).
Don’t pick this up if you’re looking for a light read; it is a heavy as a stone snake entwined around the flesh of your ankle. Sigrid Undset writes beautifully, plaintively, practically; every emotion is, without a doubt, wrought against the backdrop of Norse countryside and Medieval day-to-day life, and woven through seasons, with heavy themes of religion, piety, shame, standing, and guilt. The tortured nature of the pairing reminds the reader of an inverse of Romeo and Juliet... you’ll have to read it for yourself to see it in its undivided and nuanced glory. A word of caution: set aside undivided time to get invested in the first part of the book (approx. 172 pages) so as not to drift off from the main vein of the story, and keep a bookmark in the kinship and map pages, as well as the reference notes following the Holy Days and Canonical Hours in the back of the book.
This is a translation of a series worthy of waiting for— and of it’s Nobel Prize in Literature. God bless great historical fiction, and of archaic roles enjoyed at their proper vantage point; lucid of mind, slightly somber, and in the sweet mercy of a truly good book.
Don’t pick this up if you’re looking for a light read; it is a heavy as a stone snake entwined around the flesh of your ankle. Sigrid Undset writes beautifully, plaintively, practically; every emotion is, without a doubt, wrought against the backdrop of Norse countryside and Medieval day-to-day life, and woven through seasons, with heavy themes of religion, piety, shame, standing, and guilt. The tortured nature of the pairing reminds the reader of an inverse of Romeo and Juliet... you’ll have to read it for yourself to see it in its undivided and nuanced glory. A word of caution: set aside undivided time to get invested in the first part of the book (approx. 172 pages) so as not to drift off from the main vein of the story, and keep a bookmark in the kinship and map pages, as well as the reference notes following the Holy Days and Canonical Hours in the back of the book.
This is a translation of a series worthy of waiting for— and of it’s Nobel Prize in Literature. God bless great historical fiction, and of archaic roles enjoyed at their proper vantage point; lucid of mind, slightly somber, and in the sweet mercy of a truly good book.