Praised across Scandinavia as a "literary masterpiece," "spellbinding," and "magnificent," Unquiet reflects on six taped conversations the author had with her father at the very end of his life.
He is a renowned Swedish filmmaker and has a plan for everything. She is his daughter, the youngest of nine children. Every summer, since she was a little girl, she visits him at his beloved stony house surrounded by woods, poppies, and the Baltic sea. Now that she’s grown up and he’s in his late eighties, he envisions a book about old age. He worries that he’s losing his language, his memory, his mind. Growing old is hard work, he says. They will write it together. She will ask the questions. He will answer them.
When she finally comes to the island, bringing her tape recorder with her, old age has caught up with him in ways neither could have foreseen.
Unquiet follows the narrator as she unearths these taped conversations seven years later. Swept into memory, she reimagines the story of a father, a mother, and a girl—a child who can’t wait to grow up and parents who would rather be children.
A heartbreaking and darkly funny depiction of the intricacies of family, Unquiet is an elegy of memory and loss, identity and art, growing up and growing old. Linn Ullmann nimbly blends memoir and fiction in her most inventive novel yet, weaving a luminous meditation on language, mourning, and the many narratives that make up a life.
Linn Ullmann is the daughter of actress, author and director Liv Ullmann and director and screenwriter Ingmar Bergman.
She is a graduate of New York University, where she studied English literature. She returned to Norway in 1990 to pursue a career in journalism. Her first novel Before You Sleep was published in 1998. Her second novel, Stella Descending (2001) received glowing reviews. Her third novel Grace was published in 2002 and won the prominent literary award “The reader’s prize” in Norway and was named one of the ten best novels of that year by the prestigious Danish newspaper Weekendavisen. In 2007, Grace was longlisted for the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize in the UK. That same year, Ullmann was awarded the prestigeous Norwegian Amalie Skram prize.
Her fourth novel, A Blessed Child, was published in the fall of 2005, and was shortlisted for the Brage Price, one of Norway's most prestigious literary awards. Currently she is working as a journalist and a regular columnist in Norway’s leading newspaper Aftenposten.
This was an ‘interesting’ and often ‘unsettling’ Nordic novel.... ( semi- autobiographical). It’s the first book I’ve read by Lin Ullman.
The main character is a young girl. She has no name. None of the characters have names. There is mother. There is father. Not married. While this young girl is eager to grow up - know who she is - her parents needed to grow up themselves.
I understand it’s intentional when an author chooses to have nameless characters.. Author Vendela Vida has done it - and while I can appreciate the the creative artful writing that the ‘no-names’ contribute to a luminescent and evocative of tale of longing - grief - and hope... I prefer my characters to have names.
The young girl loves her mother, her Nana and Jesus ( because she was told Jesus loves her)... but she loves her mother most.
The father was a famous filmmaker. The plan was for the girl who is an adult -would return to the stony summer home and Baltic Sea - where she visited every summer of her growing years. She and her dad - now 80 years of age - were going to write a book together about old age. But her fathers old age deterioration and his memory loss is much worse than she had ever imagined when she arrive on the island with her tape recorder.
We get a story about the the distraught mother, father and growing child.
The mother who the child loved best of all - clinging love - desperate for her mother- was constantly being abandoned. Her mother was always leaving. The child was begging and crying for her.... fearful she wouldn’t come back.
What kind of mother continues to leave her child as much as she did, especially knowing how hurtful it was to her own daughter? Not a healthy mother. Narcissistic yes.
The mothers deepest desire was to be loved unconditionally, but be left alone in peace. She thought she hid this feeling? Ha ... who was she kidding. Children hear and see everything.
The young girl - as a child - and the girl as adult ... desires to understand where and who she came from - unraveling the truth about her past and her own identity.
I liked it this book - the audio-voice was excellent - I appreciated it - all these matters of human concerns - but I didn’t ‘passionately’ love it. Perhaps - I’ve read one too many books similar... too close together.
3 to 3.5 stars — good, interesting crafting, not a favorite - but good!!
Unquiet will be one of my great books of the year. To check published reviews, I've put links to three at the end.
What I've written about here is what I wanted to ask when I'd finished reading it.
When you read e-books, you don't have the physical presence of the book to remind you what it says about itself on the cover. The cover of Unquiet quite clearly says ‘a novel’, but that’s not how it felt as I read it. It felt like memoir. Breathtaking. Devastating. How could she wade in such difficult family waters?
I wanted to know more about how Ullmann arrived at the unusual form and tone of the book, why the three central characters, the mother, the father and the girl/daughter had no names. Answers came from a deeply thoughtful interview she gave on Louisiana.dk channel, subtitled in English thank goodness. (https://vimeo.com/186255598)
This is part of what she said:
‘This is really a book about age, about ages that are hard to get through. But we get through them. …It is about children who want to be adults and adults who want to be like children. And that complicates matters – but complications are good’.
Unquiet elaborates on earlier novels, is more autobiographical, has arisen from her earlier work and she said she could only have written it now.
She thought about the book for years before physically writing it, considering how she might write a book about her parents, or a version of her parents? Gradually she moved from considering what she could or couldn't write about, into the world of the novel itself, where her considerations were those of voice and form.
‘The form and the voice are everything. It’s the form that creates suspense, gives life – that creates fear and laughter. It’s all down to the composition, the timing, where you place the comma. That’s where the prose begins…. Working with composition on this book was so liberating – because I couldn't write this book which is so very personal – and firmly rooted in my own life and that of my dear ones - had I not found the voice that could carry this subject matter’.
The form of this book is a loving nod to her father whose favourite music was the Bach Cello suites, all of which have six dance movements. Each section in the book is named for one such movement (eg, Sarabande, Gigue). She used the choreography and the mood of the dances in Bach’s Fifth Cello Suite to evoke the mood and voice in each of the six parts of the book. Each of them goes back to the same stories, dilemmas and variations – but they are told in different voices. It was liberating and fun to work like that.
Writing is about listening for the right voice….
She cites John Berger: ‘to write autobiographically you need to be all alone’. Something about getting there all alone is the key to writing. Both writing and reading demand a kind of loneliness – that can be hard to obtain but which is nice when you get it. …It a free, quiet space that allows you to be stringent.
Asked about alternation between first person narrator and the girl, she talks about why her characters are nameless. ‘Names are very laden’. Because this novel contains many autobiographical elements, she felt it was just wrong to call the mother and father by their actual names. ‘That would reduce the daughter to a concrete block on my desk’.
It was liberating to abstain from using names, and to alternate between first and third person – like changing the lighting on a movie set so that you see from different perspectives.
She constantly queries the issue of writing autobiographically – memory is rich but untrustworthy. The only way I could write this book was to write about people I’ve been close to, tapping into my own experiences, and to do that I ‘had to recreate us as if we didn't exist other than in the novel’. Writing about them as fictive characters enabled her to write them more truthfully, she said, than if she’d set out to write a true biography. ‘Subterfuge is very liberating. It helps you to be as truthful as you can.’
She was not interested in writing about famous parents. She wanted to write about her father’s aging, the effects of his forgetfulness, his and her own vulnerability, and his death.
And finally, a recurring theme in all her book is that her characters are imperfect – vulnerable and restless but they keep fighting.
A couple of reviews, which concentrate more on the book’s stories and the family relationships/.
Linn Ullmann skriver om hur det är att vara barn till kända föräldrar och barn till en äldre förälder. Denna vemodiga bild av uppväxt och åldrande kommer att stanna med mig länge. Sedan blev jag påmind om att döttrarna kan vara väldigt oförlåtande till sina mammor. Det känner jag igen alltför väl från egna erfarenheter som dotter och mor. Inte heller är det nytt att Linn Ullmann skriver vackert och att jag älskar hennes språkbruk. Det är den bild av den magnifika ön och inblickar i Maestros storslagna personlighet som höjer boken i mina ögon.
izvrstan (auto)biografski zapis o ingmaru bergmanu, švedskom redatelju i scenaristu kojeg kći linn, autorica, prati u posljednjoj etapi života snimajući njihove razgovore i prisjećajući se odrastanja kao najmlađe od devetero djece (koje je imao sa šest žena od kojih je s pet njih bio u braku).
bez pretjerane emocionalnosti i bez ikakvog moralnog suda (a s obzirom na čušpajz žena i djece, brakova i razvoda, ljubavnica i skandala), linn je finim riječima opisala intimni život svog oca, svoje majke (liv ullmann), a i dotakla se svog. da bi uživao u ovoj knjizi ne trebaš biti bergmanov obožavatelj; ako već jesi, onda je ovo obavezno štivo za tebe.
A biography on Linn Ullman and her parents, the famous Ingmar Bergman and Liv Ullman. Linn Ullman writes about a girl, a mother and a father. She never mentions the names of the characters, and despite their fame it could have been about almost anyone. She doesn't concentrate on that part of their lives, not much anyway, but more about their personalities and relationships.
Ingmar Bergman was a phenomenal director, really outstanding, but he didn't know how to care for children. In the book, he watches movies with his daughter in his own cinema, and arranges planned sittings, where they talked about everything they wanted to. Everything has to be planned, and the worst he knows is someone not being on time. Therefor, the girl is worried when he, one day, are late. It is very sad when he begins to drift away, not as sharp as he used to be. There is such a difference when an intellectual person that has used his vocabulary and intelligence in his profession, eventually become a shadow of his former self. The change is so visible and painful.
Liv Ullman was working as an actress, moving from Oslo to New York and bringing her daughter. She was not the ideal mother, but tried the best she could. It feels like Linn was more affected by her mother's occasional absence than her father's constant absence. She seemed to accept Ingmar Bergman's way, and to only see him a few weeks every summer at the summer house. Perhaps, because she never really got to know him as a father. Her mother was part of her life, almost always present, and it made the need and dependence so much bigger.
Liv Ullman has a special way of writing. The prose is almost poetic and occasionally very strong. However, sometimes it feels repetitive. Some parts have digressions that feel unnecessary.
Jeg keder mig. Efter 130 sider keder jeg mig stadig. Måske er det stilistisk smukt, men der sker ikke en skid. Og jeg spørger hele tiden mig selv: ville dette her have nogen som helst interesse for nogen, hvis ikke det lige var en kendt skuespiller & instruktør, der var Pigens forældre. Jeg irriteres over den tilsyneladende distance. Selvbiografi i tredje person: "Pigen gør dit, Pigen gør dat." Pigen er oftest i audiens hos den kendte kunstnerfader. Jeg irriteres over den forblommede nøgleroman-stil: Pigen, faren, moren. Pigen blev døbt Beate Karin, men kaldt noget andet (det er jo meget hemmeligt, hvad) - som om vi ikke anede hvem det handlede om - så er vi da sikre på, at det mest handler om kendtheden. Handlingen, hvis man kan kalde den det, kredser neurotisk mellem "Elskede den berømte far nu "Pigen" (nok)?" og "Mon pigen kan leve op til kunstnerfaderens ambition om det fælles værk" - mens han mister hukommelsen. Uuuuh spænding: Er diktafonen mon for dårlig - Ja, gå da endelig rundt og frygt det i 5 år, med båndene i håndtasken, hvor du symbolsk bærer rundt på hele dit liv... [Så tag dig dog sammen og find ud af det, men det kan man måske ikke, når man har sådan en kuuuunstnersjæl?]
Konkluderer det er (endnu) en bog jeg simpelthen ikke er neurotisk nok til (lige som Clarice Lispector, som jeg læste tidligere på året). Det er muligt det er dømt stor kunst, men jeg orker ikke 270 sider mere i samme rille.
Giving up at half the book. This is a story about a girl whose very famous parents are emotionally, and most times also physically, non-available to her. Her anger is understandable and justifiable, but there's nothing new to read here and no new insights. Even the chosen perspective of the mature daughter who is visiting and talking to her aging father doesn't add anything new or interesting. The relationships are so cold and alienated that you never feel anything, and keep wondering what these people are made of. The language tries to be poetic but just makes everything even more bland. Not a good read, I'm afraid, unless '70s gossip is your thing.
"Känslomässigt rabalder tolereras inte", men vem blir inte berörd av att tänka på hur Bergman mot slutet av sitt liv tog den röda jeepen till snickaren i Slite för att tala om likkistans utformning. Noterade också att hans favorit-Woody-film var 'Crimes and Misdemeanors' och finner det sympatiskt.
Üçlemenin ilk kitabı "Huzursuzlar" bir otobiyografik kurmaca, güzel bir hesaplaşma anlatısı. Linn Ullmann, Ingmar Bergman ile aktris Liv Ullmann'ın kızı. Liv Ullmann'la Bergman, yönetmenin dördüncü ile beşinci evliliği arasında aşk yaşamış, haliyle evlenmemişler. Ancak dostlukları ömür boyu devam etmiş, birbirlerine hep gizli gizli notlar göndermişler, yazışmışlar. Linn Ullmann, Bergman'ın dokuzuncu evladı. Çocukluğunda birçok yazı, Bergman'ın Baltık Denizindeki Faro Adasında geçirirmiş. O sıralar Bergman 50 yaşlarında - Liv Ullmann'dan yirmi küsür yaş büyük. Linn doğduğunda 48 yaşındaymış. Ingmar ile Liv'inki hayli eşitsiz bir ilişki elbette. Bergman kılı kırk yaran, alabildiğine disiplinli ve hastalık derecesinde dakik, her istediğini gerçekleştiren itibarlı, büyük bir sanatçı, kuralları o koyuyor ve herkesin uymasını bekliyor. Liv Ullmann'sa, ki kitabın ortalarına doğru varlığı ortaya konuyor, muazzam bir başlangıç yapmış büyük bir oyuncu ama ara ara gösteri piyasasının taleplerine boyun eğen, sözgelimi şarkı söyleyemediği halde Broodway'de sahneye çıkan, kendine düşkün biri; bazen talepkâr ilişkilerde sürüklendiği izlenimini veriyor. Bergman'la yaşadığı aşk ilişkisinin ardından büyük bir yükle, bakmak zorunda olduğu bir çocukla kalakalmış. İkili arasındaki eşitsizlik ebeveyn görevleri açısından da kendini belli ediyor; kızları Linn, asla babam nerede? diye haykırmıyor, ancak annesinden ayrı kalmaya dayanamıyor - sık sık bu duruma düşse de. Liv Ullmann ara ara Amerika'ya taşındığında onunla gitmek istiyor; annesinin gösterileri ve çekimleri sırasında uzun süreler ona şefkat gösteremeyen bakıcıların insafına kalıyor. Kısacası, otoriter, uzak, sürekli meşgul ve tüm dünyanın hayran olduğu bir baba figürü ile fazlasıyla ünlü, güzel, ancak yer yer yıpratıcı bir oyunculuk kariyerine kapılmış, o nedenle kızına vakit ayıramayan, bunalımlı ve eksik bir anne figürü söz konusu. Linn Ullmann yine de kurban olmayı seçmemiş ve güçlü ebeveyniyle onları öcüleştirmeden, onların zayıflıklarını da iyi yanlarını da ortaya koyarak hesaplaşabilmiş. Kendi hayat yolculuğunda da benzer şekilde terk edilmeler, boşanmalar ve yeni başlangıçlar yaşamış - bu yaşadıklarıyla çocukluğu arasında belli belirsiz paralellikler kurmuş. "Huzursuzlar" aynı zamanda da baba-kız ilişkisi ve yaşlanma üzerine bir anlatı - hatta hatta zamanı geldiğinde ebeveynlerinin ebeveyni olmak üzerine. Zira zamanın çizgisel bir doğrultuda akmadığı metin Linn'le babasının son döneminde yaptıkları ses kayıtlarının deşifreleriyle bölünüyor. Bergman'ın bir hatırladığı bir unuttuğu ya da konuşmamayı tercih ettiği bu diyaloglar, onun yaklaşan ölümü karşısındaki tavrını, ölme hazırlığını da sergiliyor. "Huzursuzlar"ın eslere, duraklara, suskunluklara yer vermesi, anlatmayarak çok şey anlatması da dikkat çekici. Linn Ullmann nerede susması gerektiğini biliyor.
Linn'in annesi Liv'le pek derinlikli bir ilişki kuramadığı, Liv'in hayatının büyük kısmında bunalımlı bir hayat yaşadığı anlaşılıyor - bir yerde kameralar önünde sömürüldüğü ve gösteri piyasasının talepleri karşısında giderek yıprandığı hissediliyor. Bergman'la konumu gerçekten de eşitsiz. Ancak Bergman da, otoritesine, bencilliğine karşın haliyle fazlasıyla duyarlı ve incelikli biri. Son zamanlarda özellikle auteur yönetmenler çok öcüleştiriliyor. Elbette her şey konuşulmalı, irdelenmeli, sanatçı diye kutsallaştırılmamalı. Lakin onlar da o toplumun, o dünyanın bir parçası; toplum ve düzene sinmiş o derin çelişkileri kendi benliklerinde sergiliyorlar, mükemmel değiller. Linn Ullmann, bu iki zor karakterin, bu iki dev ağacın gölgesinde solup gitmemiş, kendi olmayı başarabilmiş bir yazar. Kitap onlarla baş etme ve o savaştan çıkma, onlarla her koşulda hesaplaşma ve barışma hikayesini anlatıyor.
This is a decidedly odd book, and a hard one to rate. While purportedly a novel, there is no pretense that this ISN'T about the author's famous parents, Ingmar Bergman and Liv Ullmann (there is a halfhearted 'explanation' for its designation as fiction at the beginning of part four, but it makes little sense). And if one isn't already enamored and fascinated by the real life protagonists, there is really no reason to dive in. But the problem is, even though the book is well-written and flows smoothly, very little of import is actually gleaned about them - and what there is, is rather dispiriting.
Much of the book is based on a series of recorded interviews the author did with her famous father towards the end of his life - but by that point, he was suffering dementia and the major portion of the recordings have little to do with his work, art or philosophy ... in fact the majority of it is him saying he is too tired to work that day, and them scheduling the NEXT appointment. The author's actress mother comes off equally harshly, a woman who spends way too much time catering to the whims of whatever man has caught her fancy, and who seemingly cares little for the joys of motherhood.
All that said, the book does have a certain hypnotic appeal, and I can't say I am sorry I read it - just disappointing in that it doesn't tell one what one probably wants to know.
A gorgeous memoir-novel, which takes as its starting point a series of taped conversations between Ullmann and her father, the famous film director Ingmar Bergman as he was entering old age. The idea was that they would write a book together, a collaboration on the subject of aging. There are only six recordings, the sound quality is bad, and through them Bergman is disappearing, his words, his thoughts, his physicality. While there is an extra frisson knowing that the writer is the 9th child of Bergman and the daughter of the famous Swedish actress, Liv Ullmann, this isn't a gossipy tell-all, indeed neither father nor mother are actually named. Bergman is the father or Pappa; Liv Ullman is the mother or Mama, and the writer is alternately the girl, or her, and sometimes I. It is a beautiful meditation on family, and what it means to disappear into old age, and the ability or inability to recall memories of what happened when. At the core, there is the unfulfilled longing for clarity and accountability from parents who are artists. The father is a punctual man, a man with rules, who sees his daughter only during the summer on the island that is his own fiefdom, a place of sea and trees and nature and stones and lambs and various houses and various rooms that all have their specific purposes. Water is not to be drunk in the living room. When the door to his study is shut, no one is to knock. He's a man whose commitments to art, eros, and self-exploration dictate a certain remoteness with his children. Nine in all, with six different women, and he organized his life and theirs on the island to defend his routines. And yet, one can feel the love, and the little girl's awe and desire and nervousness around her father. Movie time in the old barn was at 3 PM sharp, and one was to be there at 10 to 3, to settle in, settle down, to allow the eyes to alter, before the movie began. Videotapes of movies could be borrowed, but there was a sheet for checkout and check-ins. The old windmill was where the kids brought boyfriends/girlfriends/lovers. The father isn't cold, but his pronouncements and views are specific, don't brook any interference, and are sometimes funny and sometimes sad, when considering they were heard/felt by his young daughter. The mother is more bluntly judged - the girl was more often with her mother than with her father, but even then, there is a sense of abandonment, often left to be raised by a succession of babysitters. "I was his child and her child, but not their child," she writes, "it was never us three." It's a collage-like portrait of a family splintered almost immediately, and she's trying to isolate the mother, the father, and the daughter, and the way they intersect. Beautifully written with intensity beneath the placid surface, there is both heartbreak and humor. It will be hard to read a traditional memoir after this.
ανησυχία : ουσιαστικό θηλυκό (ορισμός) συναίσθημα ελαφριού άγχους και φόβου για την κατάσταση κάποιου, την κατάληξη ενός γεγονότος κλπ.
Η Linn Ullmann κόρη της ηθοποιού/σκηνοθέτιδας Liv Ullmann και του σκηνοθέτη Ingmar Bergman μας αφηγείται τη ζωή και τη σχέση της με τους γονείς της καθώς και τους λόγους που συντέλεσαν στη συγγραφή αυτού του βιβλίου. Τα πρώτα χρόνια της ζωής της έζησε με τους γονείς της στο σπίτι που έφτιαξε ο πατέρας της στο Χάμαρς. Όταν οι γονείς χώρισαν έμενε εκεί τα καλοκαίρια μαζί με τα μεγαλύτερα ετεροθαλή αδέρφια της. Ο Igmar Bergman είχε 9 παιδιά από 6 γυναίκες και η Linn ήταν η μικρότερη όλων. Τα χρόνια περνούν με πολλά ταξίδια αφού ακολουθούσε τη μητέρα της όπου την οδηγούσαν οι επαγγελματικές της υποχρεώσεις. Μόνη σταθερά της τα καλοκαίρια της στο Χάμαρς και η ρουτίνα που είχε διαμορφώσει ο πατέρας της. Ένας πατέρας δάσκαλος, με μέτρο, πειθαρχία, πρόγραμμα, συνέπεια. Όταν εκε��νος ήταν πλέον πάνω από ογδόντα χρονών αποφάσισαν να γράψουν μαζί ένα βιβλίο για τα γηρατειά.
"ΑΥΤΟΣ Νομίζω ότι το να γερνάς είναι μια σκληρή, εξουθενωτική, άχαρη δουλειά με ατελείωτο ωράριο. ΑΥΤΉ Ναι ΑΥΤΟΣ Αλλά το είναι ουσιώδες... Τι είναι ουσιώδες!... "
Έτσι ξεκινά η καταγραφή των διαλόγων τους σε ψηφιακό μαγνητόφωνο. Οι συζητήσεις αυτές δεν ολοκληρώθηκε ποτέ. Ο χρόνος και η φθορά της υγείας του θα βάλουν τέλος στο όραμα τους. Το μαγνητόφωνο κάπου παράπεσε ώσπου επτά χρόνια μετά το θάνατο του πατέρα της ήρθε απρόσμενα στα χέρια της. Αυτό ήταν και το εφαλτήριο για τη συγγραφή αυτού του βιβλίου. Ένα βιβλίο για τη ζωή, τα χρόνια που περνούν, τα γηρατειά, τις μνήμες που χάνονται όσο οι εμπειρίες συσσωρεύονται, μια σχέση αντιστρόφως ανάλογη. Μνήμες δικές μας, μνήμες άλλων, φωτογραφίες, ημερολόγια, αφηγήσεις, στιγμιότυπα ζωής που μας προσδιορίζουν. Είναι η σχέση μας με τον εαυτό μας και τους άλλους που καθορίζεται από τις μνήμες μας, από τα συναισθήματα που έχουν δημιουργηθεί. Ακόμα και όταν οι μνήμες ξεθωριάζουν ή σβήσουν, όσα είχαμε νιώσει παραμένουν εγγεγραμμένα στο υποσυνείδητο μας. Ένα βιβλίο που θα συγκινήσει λίγο παραπάνω όσους είδαν τους αγαπημένους τους σταδιακά να τους χάνουν και να χάνονται από την άνοια / Alzheimer.
Ο Ερνστ Ίνγκμαρ Μπέργκμαν ήταν Σουηδός σκηνοθέτης και σεναριογράφος. Απεβίωσε σαν σήμερα το 2007.
"You have to add common sense and a good deal of imagination," says Ullman's father in one of his own autobiographies when contemplating and discussing the process of memory and examining past events.
Ullman calls Unquiet a "novel", despite its real life subjects - including herself - for the reason quoted above. She grew up with separated parents and, from experience, I know how this can automatically lead to narratives that don't quite align, past events that are recalled with different tones, versions and emotions. So this is Ullman's endeavour to make sense of the different version of her own past, consolidated through her own memories and experiences.
Unquiet is a tribute to memory and the act of recollection. It manipulates traditional narrative structures and breaks the mould of regular storytelling conventions in order to replicate the way our memory works. This is as close to "stream of consciousness" writing that I have yet come in reading, and the style did take some getting used to.
But perseverance with Unquiet is rewarded with evocative language and a compelling - though often jumbled - narrative about childhood and growing up with separated parents who both also happen to be famous and highly in-demand. It is also about the role of women, and it is also about growing old and grief.
Unquiet is full of tender, heart-aching moments that are beautifully recalled - each one framed by text breaks that allow you to pause, reflect, immerse and digest, before moving on to the next memory.
A novel/memoir hybrid told in fragments, Unquiet is a ruminative work on the narrator’s relationship with her legendary filmmaker/artist father, and her mother, a revered and iconic actress. Ullmann’s parents are Ingmar Bergman and Liv Ullmann. The narrator says explicitly in one fragment: “I’m trying to understand something about love here, and about my parents, and why solitude played such a significant role in their lives, and why they, more than anything in the whole world, were so afraid of being abandoned.” And in trying to understand her mysterious parents, and herself in relation to them, she also thinks about time passing, and the work of growing old and losing yourself in senility. I think I found this latter subject of the novel the most interesting, because I’m personally interested in old age, what life is like in your twilight years, when most of your life is behind you and you stop being able to look after yourself. I liked not loved this novel, but it did feel incredibly intimate though it maintained a form of detachment throughout. I like that style of address. It’s got riches, and the prose is soft, slow and clear. It ran a little long for me, but it was a smooth read. Ullmann is an artful writer, and the skillful construction of Unquiet was also a point of particular interest.
I enjoyed this book more for it's experimenting form than the story itself, but that is a reflektion of me: I'm not familiar with either of the author's parents, even though they're quite famous. I think for those who are, the book might be even bettter.
Od sinoć razmišljam što napisati o ovoj knjizi, a da je bude dostojno. Možda izgleda da glorificiram Linn Ullmann ili njenog oca ili njenu majku, kad tako govorim. To nipošto nije istina. Samo ih sada, nakon što je Linn Ullmann ogolila dušu u "Nemirnima", gledam drukčije, osjećam ih bliskijima - koliko god smo udaljeni jedni od drugih, na svaki način - ljudskijima, normalnijima. Kad ti je otac Ingmar Bergman, a majka Liv Ullmann, onda imaš, u najmanju ruku, zanimljiv život. Ali ti nije nimalo lako. Pročitala sam da su neki komentirali kako se Linn Ullmann bespotrebno žali zbog toga. Ne znam što su ti ljudi čitali, ja nisam dobila takav dojam. Linn je realna, otvorena do boli, mudra, duhovita, tužna, ranjena, posebna i svoja. Gledala sam intervju s njom nakon ove knjige i na pitanje intervjuera je li dugo pisala ovu knjigu, rekla je, "Istina je da mi je dugo trebalo da bude gotova, godine su mi trebale. Ali samo pisanje nije dugo trajalo." Puno je toga lijepog i zanimljivog objasnila u tom intervjuu, a ja sam s još većim zanimanjem i osjećajem bliskosti čitala njezinu knjigu. Naglašavam da joj je pisanje sjajno, zanimljivo i umješno (pročitala sam već tri njezine knjige prije ove), a svakome tko želi uvid u obitelj Ullmann-Bergman i njihove odnose, strahove, povezanost, udaljenost, sličnost, bol i ljubav - neka pročita Linninu knjigu. Ja sam oduševljena. I da, prijevod Željke Černok je, kao i uvijek, izvrstan.
Це книжка дочки Інґмара Бергмана та Лів Ульманн. В основному, вона про те, яким Бергман був батьком (про Лів там менше). Крім Лінн Ульманн (авторки книжки) у Бергмана було ще 8 дітей, так що унікальною і особливо любленою вона ніколи не почувалася. В книжці Лінн вилила на читачів увесь свій розпач на несправедливість, яку відчувала, коли була дитиною і пізніше, бо її дитинство було зовсім не схоже на "нормальні" дитинства. Здається, що те, що у тата було лише одне захоплення - робота, плюс купа жінок і інших дітей, авторку ніколи не переставало бентежити. Мабуть, у якомусь терапевтичному жесті вона і написала цю книжку. В основу в книгу ввійшли записи, які Лінн зробила з батьком в останні дні його життя, коли він вже мало пам'ятав. Та слухаючи ці записи пізніше, Лінн змогла розповісти собі (і нам) про свої непрості почуття до батька і про те, яким вона пам'ятає батька і своє дитинство. Часами книжка мене справді бісила, бо я не можу зрозуміти цю ненависть до батьків, які нічого поганого не зробили, які були такими батьками, якими могли. Звідки ці претензії? Не найгірше ж життя вони їй подарували, врешті. Все життя у авторки склалося у дуже привілейованому статусі, який вона отримала лише тому, що була дитиною саме цих батьків. Але кожен має право на свої травми, це право, звісно, ніхто не забирає і у Лінн Ульманн.
Being total fan of Ingmar Bergman when I was in my late teens, and having a total crush on Liv Ullmann at that time meant I really went into this from the wrong angle. My focus was more on them than their child and that child’s memories of her relationship with those parents, especially with her father. It is only when I got three-quarters through did I start to understand where the writer was coming from. I need to reread, but not for some time. Three stars to say it will probably turn out to be much better than it seemed at the time, and to suggest others reading forget who her parents were and just focus on families and memories.
Stærkt konciperet og komponeret og blændende skrevet. Bevægende og dybt original. En bog - et mesterværk - hvis univers er tegnet så knivskarpt op af en distinkt fortællerstemme, at det lever videre i læseren, længe efter at bogen er slut. De urolige er uden tvivl en bog, jeg vil blive ved med at opsøge og vende tilbage til, og dét ikke mindst på grund af Ullmanns så fine, krystalklare sprog.
Ullmann skriver varmt og sårt om faren og moren, barndom og alderdom, kunsten og kjærligheten, historiene og stedene, sorgen og savnet. En svært velskrevet og godt strukturert roman. Nok en favoritt fra Ullmann.
Mooi inkijkje in interessante levens. Mooi verteld, met veel afstand en verlorenheid ('het meisje') en met liefde en loyaliteit ('ik'). Maar toch een vervreemdend verhaal. In een autobiografie zou je juist dichterbij iemand moeten komen.
Bra, men inte så bra att jag tänker brista ut i jubelsång med alla andra. Starkast är bitarna om fadern och Fårösomrarna och det är också där boken känns mer allmängiltig. Vissa bitar från tonårstiden känns självutlämnande på ett omotiverat sätt.