Putting aside the harrowing descriptions of adolescent terror, child abuse, and the very existence of middle school, there are hundreds of words expended on defecation. It confirms what all young girls know: boys are gross. In fact, Boyhood Island, the third installment of My Struggle, is in many ways the least attractive so far. If you didn’t, there’s no reason to start now. If you liked the first two, you’ll probably like this one. Criticism’s most primitive question - “Should I read this book?” - is more or less answered for you. My first instinct is to give you some context, but chances are if you’ve clicked on this review, you’re most likely already aware of the basics (unlikely bestseller in its native Norway, lots of talk about Proustian length, Hitlerian title, names have not been changed to protect the innocent). Three volumes in, and so much of what one wants to say has been preempted by reviews past. AT THIS POINT, Karl Ove Knausgaard’s six-volume autobiographical novel, My Struggle,is throwing some serious monkey wrenches into the mechanics of book reviewing.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |