New Man Existentialism: Why Have the Confessions of a Nordic Everyman Become a Literary Phenomenon?
Robson, Leo, New Statesman (1996)
Boyhood Island (My Struggle: 3)
Karl Ove Knausgaard, translated by Don Bartlett
Harvill Seeker, 490pp. 17.99 [pounds sterling]
Some time in the late 1890s, Kate Perugini, the daughter of Charles Dickens, told George Bernard Shaw that she intended to burn her mother's letters. Perugini argued that rather than fulfilling their intended role, to show the world that the Dickenses had once been happy, the letters served only to reinforce the familiar view that her father had been married to a boring woman. But Shaw responded that it no longer mattered either way, advising Perugini that, as he later put it, "the sentimental sympathy of the 19th century with the man of genius tied to a commonplace wife had been rudely upset by a writer named Ibsen".
In the first two volumes of his free-form, fear-filled, densely descriptive, thoroughly autobiographical six-part novel sequence, My Struggle, published in England in 2012 and 2013 under the titles A Death in the Family and A Man in Love, the novelist Karl Ove Knausgaard, Norway's biggest literary star since Ibsen, portrays with savage honesty the challenges of being a man of genius who is also expected to be thoughtful, sensitive, unmonkish. In a passage that begins "Ibsen had been right ... Relationships were there to eradicate individuality" (a somewhat different reading from Shaw's), Karl Ove, Knausgaard's not-very-alter ego, explains that he would often say "yes, yes, when I wanted to say no, no"--to the detriment of his work. At one point, Karl Ove resolves that he must "start working harder" on his novel and tells his girlfriend Linda that he is going to write through the night. But when she arrives unannounced at his flat, he feels obliged to let her in. He doesn't want her to think that his "miserable manuscript" is more important than their relationship. "At that moment it was," he confesses, "but I couldn't say that." Again and again in My Struggle, the third instalment of which, Boyhood Island, has just been published in Don Bartlett's smooth translation, Knausgaard says the things that Karl Ove "couldn't". "When I was with other people I was bound to them," he writes, setting out his credo as part-man, part-artist. "But the moment I was alone others meant nothing to me."
In exposing the loveless, lordly genius-husband, Ibsen was also striking a blow for the artist as a trader in unpalatable truths, and if Karl Ove feels like a victim of egalitarianism, he is also a grateful beneficiary of artistic freedom. Yet isn't he really a beneficiary of both? After all, Linda's long-term demands on his time provided material for a manuscript that has fulfilled the "ambition" that he feared relationships would undermine: "to write something exceptional one day". Saying yes, yes to Linda--coupled with his tendency to say yes, yes, to every artistic impulse, however harsh, that comes his way--has made him one of the great writers about male frustration. The startling passages about being "bored out of my mind" on days out with his baby daughter required Karl Ove to be that kind of man and Knausgaard that kind of writer.
An immediate response to Knausgaard's exercise in truth-telling--his programme of uncensored revelation--was the publicly voiced anger of his uncle (who objected to Knausgaard's portrayal of his father and grandmother) and also of his ex-wife, Tonje. But then writing as if other people mean "nothing" to you is a tried and tested means of turning intimates into enemies, relatives into plaintiffs. Thomas Wolfe, Knausgaard's predecessor as an author of aggressively prolix, proudly autobiographical fiction, recalled that his first novel turned him into "a black sheep, a pariah and an outcast who had cruelly savaged his own people". Hanif Kureishi, who incurred his own accusations of betrayal for writing about his father in The Buddha of Suburbia (1990) and his wife in Intimacy (1998), recently shrugged off such problems as inevitable, stating: "Writers are trouble . …