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Autumn, by Karl Ove Knausgaard
Ebook Free Autumn, by Karl Ove Knausgaard
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Review
“Knausgaard’s art can still seem a kind of magic. How does he take the plainest things, in the plainest language, and make them feel so alive?…The days, the months, the hovering presence of the daughter-to-be, charge the objects they delimit with a mortal urgency…Day by day, radiantly, the mission succeeds. For even the familiarity and foreignness that box us in, or out, will bend to a sovereign art. . . for a little while, if only in the mind, we get to have our apple and eat it too.”—New York Times Book Review “Simone Weil wrote that ‘attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer’ — and so it is here. Loose teeth, chewing gum, it all becomes noble, almost holy, under Knausgaard’s patient, admiring gaze. The world feels repainted…This book is full of wonders.” —The New York Times“VERDICT- This is a more accessible entry point to Knausgaard than his series of autobiographical novels (My Struggle), which is a boon for newcomers. For those familiar with his earlier work, by focusing on the world outside himself, he remains fresh and oftentimes surprising.” —Library Journal“Stuck in line? Turn to page 123. Read the two-page (1 minute, 45 seconds) chapter, “Infants,” on what is arguably life’s greatest joy. Looking up, you’ll love that you’re in the holiday crush. Well, no. But it’s a damn fine reverie.” — Men’s Health“Karl Ove Knausgaard frames aging here as a kind of descent into Buddhism: the mindful enlightenment of marinating in the now. His new book is, accordingly, a series of short meditations on everyday things like plastic bags, frogs and war. (‘War is both the simple shape of the arrowhead and the complicated life that it annihilates.’) I happened to turn 40 last week, and Knausgaard’s claim rings true for me.”— New York Times Magazine“It’s a sentimental week for parent readers. Fans of Karl Ove Knausgaard’s sprawling and often dark six-volume autobiographical novel, ‘My Struggle,’ might be surprised to find the author showing his short-and-sweet side in ‘Autumn,’ a slender book of essays about the material world addressed to his daughter.” — New York Times, 10 Books We Recommend This Week“In these secular meditations, Knausgaard scratches away at the ordinary to reach the sublime — finding what’s in the picture, and what’s hidden.” —Washington Post “For all his rapturous passages of ecstasy and agony, Karl Ove Knausgaard can also make you laugh … Autumn glows.” — The Economist “Even more than in “My Struggle,” he seems to inhabit every age simultaneously: He is boy, adolescent, and father at once…. If hard truths insist on hiding in the deep, these essays suggest, a hand-line will do as well as a drift net to haul them in.”—The Boston Globe“In his new book, Autumn, the first in a seasonal quartet, Knausgaard casts his gaze outward, crafting a lyrical collage of mini essays and letters to his unborn daughter.” — O Magazine “The most surprising thing about Autumn, the latest book from Norwegian literary superstar Karl Ove Knausgaard, is how tender it is. . . The spirit of that love animates this gentle, thoughtful book: love both for Knausgaard’s unborn daughter and for finding elements of the transcendent in the mundane. It’s tender, intimate, and lovely.”— Vox“The joys of one of the world’s great living writers distilled.”— GQ.com“With a Nordic half-wink of self-parody. No one dotes on details like Knausgaard.”— Vulture.com“Knausgaard is an acute, sometimes squirmingly honest analyst of domesticity and his relationship to his family. . ....he figures it out with the sharp radiance that is his gift.” —Newsweek “Knausgaard can take the breath away, his compressed vignettes delivering the same emotional charge as longer sequences from his previous work. . . this first volume of the Seasons Quartet quietly illuminates Knausgaard’s profound gift for making the reader see the world in fresh and unpredictable ways.”—The Guardian "Summer ends with one of the sweetest reading surprises of the year…unexpected, tender, intense, and persuasive…I encourage you to spend your autumn reading it."” —The Philadelphia Inquirer“Knausgaard covers fingers, bottles, infants, badgers, cars, loneliness, experience, lice, oil tankers, flies, vomit, dawn and much more, offering both humour and unpredictable logic. . . This book is important as it lays bare the endless sources of inspiration for one of the world’s most successful writers of fiction. Reading this book is a tour through the fecund mind of Knausgaard.” —Open the Magazine “Yes, this guy writes a ton. His massive, multivolume autobiography My Struggle is regarded as variously notorious or brilliant. But what a sweet, surprising, short collection of essays this is! Lie on the beach, sun beating down, and read about the season to come.” —Philadelphia Tribune “The great pleasure of “Autumn” is in watching how Knausgaard starts in commonplace observations — ‘of all the things we do, pissing is one of the most routine’ — but then moves unexpectedly toward surprising conclusions. . . I’ll look forward to “Winter,” “Spring” and “Summer.” —San Francisco Chronicle “For those seeking. . . a moment of contemplative peace, the Norwegian writer Karl Ove Knausgaard’s new book will help…Knausgaard admires Madame Bovary above all other novels, saying Flaubert’s sentences ‘are like a rag rubbed across a windowpane encrusted with smoke and dirt which you have long since grown accustomed to seeing the world through.’ Autumn performs the same task.” —Toronto Star“This is not Knausgaard-lite; in crisp, imaginative bits of prose, he shakes up complacency and invites us to look again — no bromides here. The overriding dichotomy is that the year is dying out and, at the same time, a baby is growing in utero and reaching out her little hand… By writing about his family and their year of seasons, Knausgaard rescues them from the invisible pack.” – The Post and Courier“What truly unites these pieces is Knausgaard's sensibility, which is one part Montaigne (an urge to address big issues), one part Nicholson Baker (an eye for picayune detail), and one part Annie Dillard (an admiration for nature and an elegant prose style)… A call to pay closer attention to the routine stuff in our lives and to allow ourselves to be thunderstruck by their beauty.” —Kirkus Reviews (starred)“Novelist Knausgaard (My Struggle) eloquently expresses the delights, rewards, and insights of looking closely in this, the first of a projected quartet of autobiographical volumes based on the four seasons. …His writing encourages the reader to see the connections between quotidian things and the bigger picture and to appreciate both continuity and change. Autumn hums in the background as apple trees flourish and days get darker, and one looks forward to what associations he will uncover in the remaining seasons of the year.” —Publishers Weekly“Knausgaard has a gift for making the quotidian seem compelling. . . .Whether he’s writing about a rainstorm (“the sound of thunder always heightens the sense of being alive”) or teeth (“miniature white towers in the mouth”), the scrutiny Knausgaard applies to everyday objects renews them for the reader.”—Bookpage ”I got through book two of My Struggle, which became my insomnia go-to; Karl Ove Knausgaard’s account of becoming a father and at the same time a writer I found deeply affecting, especially as these bolts of bliss burst through his usual overcast of melancholy. I also loved Autumn, his book of short essays about the eruptions of wonder in everyday life. What’s great about liking Knausgaard is you can be sure there’s always more where that came from.” — Michael Pollan
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About the Author
Karl Ove Knausgaard’s first novel, Out of the World, was the first ever debut novel to win the Norwegian Critics’ Prize and his second, A Time for Everything, was widely acclaimed. The My Struggle cycle of novels has been heralded as a masterpiece wherever it has appeared, and the first volume was awarded the prestigious Brage Prize. Vanessa Baird was born in Oslo, where she now lives and works. She has an MA from the Royal College of Art, London, and in 2015 she won the Lorck Schive Art Prize, Norway’s biggest contemporary art prize.
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Product details
Hardcover: 240 pages
Publisher: Penguin Press; First Edition edition (August 22, 2017)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 039956330X
ISBN-13: 978-0399563300
Product Dimensions:
5.4 x 0.9 x 8.3 inches
Shipping Weight: 1 pounds (View shipping rates and policies)
Average Customer Review:
3.6 out of 5 stars
38 customer reviews
Amazon Best Sellers Rank:
#165,393 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
Like so many others, I am a huge fan of the "My Struggle" series, and recommend it to almost everyone I know who likes books. However, quite a few of my reading friends don't get what is so great about a middle-aged man writing about his life for thousands of pages in extraordinary detail. I guess either you feel the hypnotic pull of those thousands of pages, or you don't, but it is really difficult to explain why the pull is there.In "Autumn", you can feel what is so hypnotic about Knausgaard in just a few pages. This book, written to his unborn daughter, is a series of Knausgaard's thoughts on several dozen topics, ranging from badgers to pain to tin cans to toilet bowls (and many other things). Each one is only a few pages, and ever single one of them will make you think "Ahhh, that's so true! I know exactly what he is saying, but I never thought about saying it that way!". It really is quite remarkable.This may be a good book for someone who is thinking about tackling the "My Struggle" series, but just wants to get a little taste of what makes Knausgaard's writing so great. If you don't have a few "ahhh" moments, I will personally come to your house and prepare for you a cheese sandwich.
This is an extraordinary book about extraordinarily ordinary things. In a series of letters written to his unborn daughter this talented Norwegian author, Karl Ove Knausgaard, insightfully chronicles an inventory of life’s most ordinary events and things, from buttons and chewing gum, to vomit and oil slicks.He writes, “That is why I am writing this book for you. I want to show you the world, as it is, all around us, all the time. Only by doing so will I myself be able to glimpse it.†He notes, “These astounding things, which you will soon encounter and see for yourself, are so easy to lose sight of, and there are almost as many ways of doing that as there are people.â€One typically astounding but ordinary thing is the common housefly. He notes that it has compound eyes and its taste cells are distributed over its entire body. “Taken together, these two faculties must fragment their world immensely, for if the reflection of a room is picked up by their whole head, then their attention must be directed outwards to such a degree that to flies there can hardly be any difference between themselves and the room they are in…â€What is perhaps most extraordinary is that he describes it all with only the tools of the ordinary. The language is simple and functional, carefully avoiding the typical jargon and buzzwords of contemporary philosophy, spirituality, and introspection.The introspection, in fact, is highly extrospective. The words are not mere descriptions. They are launching pads for greater examination. Which is why the book demands not to be read, but savored. And why, I suspect, it is a book that will never quite close despite having arrived at the last paragraph.The content is, in a way, minimalistic, but in its minimalism there is the suggestion of so much more. He paints a delightful gallery of pictures without frames, where one picture moves freely on to the next, creating a total impression so much greater than the sum of the parts.I don’t mean to make the book sound poetic. It isn’t. It provides the reader, however, with the same sense I suspect the most ardent fan of poetry must feel after discovering an unimagined and unanticipated treasure.This book, I feel, will impact me for a long time to come because it is that rare work of artistic interpretation that connects you with the people you’ve never noticed, the things you see ever day but never really considered, and the ordinary self that seeks to find meaning in life but which itself is often taken for granted.
There's sweetness, innocence, and a measure of deep thought all wrapped into one in this book. Knowing that it is in many ways written for his unborn daughter, Knausgaard is able to match a level of revelation a child would understand or need about everyday items (a bed, a toothbrush) with more mature revelations. Sometimes these stories conflict (like contradicting in separate essays the colors of the body) yet still permitting the reader to see so many things anew. I saw him speak about the book and one particular comment resonated quite strongly. Knausgaard said that simply talking about the items in this book would never uncover such keen observations; only writing about them can do that. He's right. And we benefit from this reality in his book.
I really enjoyed these bite-sized essays, reading a couple every night before bed. Subjects really run the gamut. Knausgaard makes observations of everyday life, then makes an association with deep insight. "Autumn Leaves" was a particular favorite.After enjoying the NYT magazine story about Knausgaard searching for Vikings in North America, I bought this book immediately. Knausgaard's style may not suit everyone, but I find it poetic. Kudos to the translator.
That Rascal KnausgaardIt amazes methat even critics rush to denythe power of your wordswhen clearly there is no escapethey try, they dive off the page butwith eyes tight shutyou are raw, the world is rawin your mouthI don't have to bite downhard to find itmy heart is bitten in twoyet I rejoice!Reading you reminds meof trying to writea poem about a wild animalafter The Tygerthere has never been a good poemabout a wild animalthat isn't merely thefeeling of being trapped in our human obsessionsthere is an ecstasyin say a wild hawk that our languagemissesas there is ecstasy in your visionsthat we have to tear out our ordinary eyesto see.
Knausgaard manages to convey the torment, pleasure, confidences and insecurities of a lot of the above referenced demographic in an artful and truthful way. I can’t explain it but I found this comfort reading him even when he makes me uncomfortable.
There is something hypnotic about Knausgaard's writing, even when he is musing on material that is less than savory. In this, the first of a seasonal quartet framed as a letter to his unborn daughter, his thoughts range from the mundane nature of buttons (thus elevating them) to creatures of the natural world and their significance. There doesn't seem to be a pattern here, just some lovely snips.
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