The End (My Struggle #6)

by Karl Ove Knausgård

The children. Where were they? I stopped. They were at the nursery. I’d dropped them off there. Or had I?

What’s happened in our time is that restlessness is no longer translated into action. Restlessness doesn’t produce any more. We live in the age of therapy. Restlessness isn’t wanted, we try to remove it by talking about it.

Because the idea has arisen that they realise themselves through their job. So work has become the opposite of alienating. Now it’s self-realisation.