Min Kamp 1 (Min kamp, #1)
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Min Kamp 1 (Min kamp #1)

4.09 of 5 stars 4.09  ·  rating details  ·  4,454 ratings  ·  660 reviews
Min kamp är Karl Ove Knausgårds mäktiga självbiografiska roman. Första delen inleds med en svepande beskrivning av varje människas slutpunkt, döden. Det är runt detta ofrånkomliga faktum boken kretsar, från barndom till vuxenhet.

I centrum står en far som i hela sitt liv agerat onåbar och omöjlig att förstå. När Karl Ove får beskedet om faderns död inleds ett sorgarbete so...more
Hardcover, 1, 442 pages
Published September 14th 2010 by Nordstedts (first published 2009)
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Kirsi Sinkkonen Ihan vasta alussa oon, mutta olin positiivisesti yllattyny tahan asti!
Voin antaa siulle kirjan sitkun lopetan, miulla on se toinenkin osa.
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Manny
Jun 11, 2014 Manny rated it 3 of 5 stars  ·  review of another edition
Recommends it for: People who want to know what all the fuss is about
I sat, leaning slightly forward, and continued to stare at the screen, but I could think of nothing to say. I shifted my weight, trying to find a more comfortable position, and scratched my head, using my left hand; my right shoulder had still not completely recovered from the skiing accident I had suffered earlier that year, when for a few days I had felt near death. Now, it was hard to remember how I had experienced that time. A small shower of dandruff landed on the keyboard, and I wondered i...more
brian
that statistic about how often the average man thinks of sex? well, double it, change 'sex' to 'death' and you have a hint as to what's going on in my head. the thought that (spoiler) you, me, and everyone we know, ever will know, and/or ever will know of, will end up an inanimate object seems preposterously unfair and, conversely, is what drives me to live-it-the-hell-up in my pitifully brief time on this less-than-a-speck-of-dust in our expanding universe.

obsessed with death, a collector of d...more
Melanie
My first impression of Karl Ove Knausgaard came from a black and white photograph published with a review of his book "A Time For Everything" in The New York Review of Books.

He is seen smoking against the rugged Norwegian landscape, hair disheveled, wearing an old, battered tee-shirt, lost in thought. Completely and unabashedly himself, yet ill at ease. Entirely present, feet deeply rooted in the present moment, yet his mind is clearly in flight, flickering at the surface of his gaze.

The strikin...more
Douglas
“Life's a pitch, as the old woman said. She couldn't pronounce her b’s.”

I’m not sure I can say much of anything about this work that hasn’t already been said. I still have several volumes to finish. The next one is nearly 600 pages, so in a way, I’m just getting started on this enterprise.

Perhaps the best I can do is to offer a few of my observations. All I keep thinking is that this is the best boring book I’ve ever read. I can’t believe how utterly boring it is and that I cared. Every detail...more
Jim Coughenour
For the heart, life is simple: it beats for as long as it can. Then it stops.

I'm not sure what to say about this book except that once I started reading I kept going for the next two days. A couple nights ago the current issue of The New Yorker popped up on my iPad; I idly scrolled to the review of this book by James Wood. I read only a few sentences then called Books Inc. They had a copy. I walked over and picked it up even though it was almost 10 pm – and started reading.

James Wood calls My St...more
Lee
Within a week of each other my mother and a grad school friend recommended this to me, both calling it "up my alley," maybe because it's a literary autobiography unafraid of piling on detail and ripping off pages of dense, insightful exposition. I hadn't seen the James Wood review in The New Yorker (didn't skim it until after I wrote a draft of this review), but I've long been a lover of the look and feel of Archipelago's books and I'm an Anselm Keifer fan (there's a Keifer on the cover). Fictio...more
Nick Wellings
For some reason, My Struggle (AKA, in the UK - 'A Death in the Family') made it into James Wood's Books of the Year 2012. Woods is, like Kakutani, a doyen of critics, and his word always carries a weight of sensitivity and intelligence gained from years of reading and teaching about literature. With Woods' nodding imprimatur bestowed upon it one would imagine the literary cachet of Knausgard's book is beyond reproach.

But having read my Struggle (and boy, what a struggle) I fear for Mr. Wood's cr...more
Newengland
It is said that this book is a modern rendition of Proust's Remembrances, making me an untrustworthy narrator for this review as I've never read the French giant's magnum opus of life's minutiae. Yes, I have Lydia Davis's new translation of Proust, but no, I haven't mustered the courage -- yet. Reading Knaussgard's book won't help. Rather than inspire me to read Proust, it inspires me to read My Struggle: Book 2: A Man in Love, just released. Such is life.

If plot's the thing, this 440-pager is p...more
Jim Elkins
This review has two postscripts. What follows is a negative review of vol. 1, which I read when it was first out; now "My Struggle" is famous, and the 3 volumes out in English have gotten some very reflective reviews. Some thoughts on those at the end.

- -

It’s possible this book may be memorable. It has structural, narrative, and tonal problems that may, in the end, turn out to be strengths. I have no idea why it has gotten so many rave reviews, why it seems “like real life,” or why “the public h...more
S.

I finished this book standing in line at the market, thankful for the woman three customers ahead of me who was making a complicated beer purchase that gave me time to read. And of course standing in line in a stinky discount food market reminded me of a whole phase of my stinky childhood, and the woman reminded me of a close relative who passed her love affair with alcohol down the family line. But unlike Knausgaard, I’m not going to go there right now.

When the narrator is sitting in the kitch...more
Eddie Watkins
I set off with a sigh. Above me the entire sky had opened. What a few hours earlier had been plain, dense cloud cover now took on landscapelike formations, a chasm with long flat stretches, steep walls, and sudden pinnacles, in some places white and substantial like snow, in others gray and as hard as rock, while the huge surfaces illuminated by the sunset did not shine or gleam or have a reddish glow, as they could, rather they seemed as if they had been dipped in some liquid. They hung over th
...more
Bill
this book is purportedly fiction, as evidenced by the fact that it won several european prizes for fiction. however, it seems like pretty much straight autobiography to me.

i mean the main character has the author's name, he was born in norway and moved to sweden, as did the author. he has a wife and three children, as does the author. at one point in the book, he describes the picture on the cover of his first novel, which was designed by his brother, so i checked and sure enough it really is th...more
Stephen
Karl Ove Knausgaard's six-volume autobiography/novel has now gone from being a best-seller in Norway to such notoriety elsewhere that Zadie Smith as written, "Everywhere I've gone this past year the talk, among bookish people, has been of this Norwegian" (NYR, Dec. 5, 2013: 16). Such talk is based upon the English translation of only the first two volumes of this work, with the remainder eagerly awaited. The obvious comparison, and one that several reviewers have drawn, is Proust. Yes, in terms...more
James
There is something beguiling about the way Knausgaard writes, and it was this beguilement that I found particularly vexing while reading the first volume of his memoir. The way he moved between narrative and hackneyed existential aside, discussing very banal things from his teenage years with no real symbolic foundation, the unmusical, often horrible snippets of dialogue (possibly an issue with the translation), and just the whole feel of an existential, self-pitying extravaganza that got increa...more
Eric Lundgren
Hard to quantify a response to what is undoubtedly the work of a major artist. Knausgaard's work is well beyond the range of any stars you can throw at it. It moved me, it amazed, depressed, and bored me, it consoled me through some difficult things in my own life, and I am grateful to be done with it (well, done with volume 1!). The aesthetic of this autobiographical novel involves long passages when the writing seems to hum along in very low gear: an endless-seeming account of illicitly buying...more
M. Sarki
The last hundred pages are more than worth the toll it takes to get through the hundred or so pages of his hiding beer as a kid and his playing guitar and his lack of success with girls. When his father is finally dead and his brother and he have to clean up the pathetic and disgusting mess, hat's off to Knausgård. Brilliant work and something that resonated with me more than anything else he wrote in the book. There is a redemptive quality to finishing one of these volumes and it is enough to c...more
Jackie
I cannot recommend this book more. This author is brilliant. I read a review before I bought the book where they called the book "a movement" and I thought it sounded kind of pretentious, but gave it a try anyway. I'm so glad I did.

Karl Ove is Proustian in his description of everyday life. He can spend pages describing the most mundane things, but his books are still compulsively readable because of his innate ability to capture these internal thoughts that we all have, but never really articula...more
oriana
Feb 27, 2014 oriana marked it as didntfinish-yet  ·  review of another edition
Shelves: read-2014
I keep hearing wonderful things about this one, put out by the marvelous small press Archipelago, and here's one more, from the Word Bookstore newsletter:

Teens hiding beers in the snow; weird high school parties; cover bands at the mall; coffee in filthy homes; and, wait, what, is that dad’s face on the news in the ocean? The first volume of Knausgaard’s autobiography-as-novel, My Struggle, is overflowing: with meditations on art, writing, family and, finally, death. And though an “autobiography...more
Ellie
Karl Ove Knausgaard's My Struggle (Book One) is totally addictive. Knausgaard tells the story through an intense detailing of several episodes, including his dazzlingly vibrant first love, then jumps to himself as husband and writer about to have his first book published, dealing with his alcoholic father's sudden death. He and his brother travel to his father's home, where their grandmother, seemingly alcoholic and somewhat senile, also lives. As the brothers clean the house to prepare for the...more
Alta
My Struggle by Karl Ove Knausgaard (Archipelago, 2012. Trans. from the Norwegian by Don Bartlett)

My Struggle by the contemporary Norwegian writer Karl Ove Knausgaard is one of the rare books in translation to have gotten any attention these days. The reviews have been so positive some have declared the book a masterpiece.

My Struggle is a memoir about the author’s life that moves between his childhood and the present, and focuses on his difficult relationship with his father. The passages in whic...more
Cody
My Struggle is unlike any book I’ve read. Sincere and genuine, it’s surprisingly—and refreshingly—free of irony and sarcasm. A meditation on death, Book One is a reminder that everything and everyone is impermanent. But this is not just some treatise on sorrow and pointlessness, rather, Knausgaard celebrates the mundane, as that’s really all we’ve got. A neurotically detailed document, My Struggle logs all of the minutiae that make up a stray thought, a day, a life. Raw, prolix, messy, and tange...more
Dustin Kurtz
As it turns out, we all grew up in Norway in the seventies and were just waiting to have the fact explained to us.
Lillian
It was a struggle to read My Struggle
Greg Brown
Knausgaard's project is to capture those moments that seem imbued with meaning beyond their contexts, an alignment of thought and happenstance that seems so glancing, so capricious that to explain it to anyone else would be to render it silly, impotent. We all enjoy and suffer from these feelings, the most private and personal experiences of our lives. Their very uncommunicability means they're rarely portrayed in fiction at all, let alone to this persistent level of success.

To get there, Knausg...more
Hanne

There is absolutely nothing I can compare this book to. It's in a league all on its own. It's highly autobiographical literature - and not the prettified type where people only write down what they want the world to see. No, in this book, the dirty laundry is out here, and even though it isn't scandalous laundry, I can imagine that not everyone is pleased that this book is out there.

Central to this book is his relationship with his brother and father. The first one full of the adoration of a yo...more
Stephen
If only the rare poetic moments dazzled through the otherwise mundane narration more often, this would have been an unforgettable book for better reasons. Instead, it's largely filled with minutiae: passage after passage concerning largely obvious and irrelevant details of daily life that one doesn't see in truly good books. Any reader can imagine without being told that one pours coffee into a "clean cup" (pouring coffee into cups is perhaps the thing I will remember most about this book) or th...more
Lowry
Due to the inner machinations of Goodreads, it won't display the English translation I actually read, which is titled My Struggle. Translated by Don Bartlett from the Norwegian.

This is an odd book, and odd is an inadequate word but it will have to do. Narrated in an almost maddeningly moment-by-moment way, or sometimes not almost, just plain maddening. Naturalism carried to the extreme. Weirdly, the protagonist and narrator has the name of the author, as if this book were an autobiography or me...more
Pamela
I am a full convert to Knausgaard-mania, at least after finishing Book One. What can I say? The man somehow makes the everyday details of life newly interesting, like someone who for the first time shows you a drop of water under the microscope and suddenly you have a new way to think about water. I'm sure my interest was enhanced by the fact that I too was a child of the 1970s and can relate to many of the cultural markers Knausgaard invokes--and by the fact that from nearly the first page Knau...more
Joan
Wow. Some of the most minute recording of the day to day trivia of life I've ever seen, and yet somehow also suspenseful. Very close and at the same time detached, incredibly mundane and yet anything but. You kind of crawl into this Norwegian family life with Knausgaard and it's fascinating. First of six volumes. The title is the same as Mein Kampf. But the book is nothing like (though actually I haven't read Hitler's version). And the translation is stellar.
Justin Evans
As golf is to a walk in the park, so is this novel to Richard Yates: yes, it's self-pitying white man pablum, but they're both tremendously easy reading, and demand almost nothing from you; they aren't necessarily the worse for it.

This analogy is ridiculous, so allow me to continue: the walk is ruined by hitting little white balls; the pablum is ruined by ludicrous existential maundering about death. Apparently, our society represses death, keeping it invisible. Unlike, you know, all those soci...more
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NY Times Essay by Knausgaard 2 28 Aug 29, 2014 10:23AM  
New York Magazine article on My Struggle 1 20 May 28, 2014 03:26PM  
Goodreads Librari...: ISBN13: 9781935744184 4 43 May 08, 2012 02:26PM  
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Nominated to the 2004 Nordic Council’s Literature Prize & awarded the 2004 Norwegian Critics’ Prize.

Karl Ove Knausgård (b 1968) made his literary debut in 1998 with the widely acclaimed novel OUT OF THE WORLD, which was a great critical and commercial success and won him, as the first debut novel ever, The Norwegian Critics' Prize. He has since received several literary prizes for his books.
More about Karl Ove Knausgård...
Min kamp 2 (Min kamp, #2) Min kamp 3 (Min kamp, #3) Min kamp 4 (Min kamp, #4) Min kamp 5 (Min kamp, #5) A Time for Everything

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“For the heart, life is simple: it beats for as long as it can. Then it stops.” 27 likes
“Now I saw his lifeless state. And that there was no longer any difference between what once had been my father and the table he was lying on, or the floor on which the table stood, or the wall socket beneath the window, or the cable running to the lamp beside him. For humans are merely one form among many, which the world produces over and over again, not only in everything that lives but also in everything that does not live, drawn in sand, stone, and water. And death, which I have always regarded as the greatest dimension of life, dark, compelling, was no more than a pipe that springs a leak, a branch that cracks in the wind, a jacket that slips off a clothes hanger and falls to the floor.” 18 likes
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