This book got into my bloodstream.
While reading it, I often found myself stressed out or unable to sleep because of how the story got into my head. When I picked it up, I had no plans to write a review of it, but as I progressed in the story, it stirred up complicated feelings and emotions, and I found I needed to write about it in order to process those emotions. Some might think it strange that I would disclose this (and some things that follow), but no one reads this blog anyway, so what’s the harm? 😉
I’ve never read a book where I identified so much with the protagonist. Ever.
…which is strange in this case, because Kristin was living in and navigating the societal intricacies of 14th century Norway. I’ve never even been to Norway, and according to Ancestry.com, I’m only 5% Swedish; in other words, I haven’t a single drop of Norwegian blood in my body. And then there’s the whole *700 years ago* thing.
Putting that aside, I found her spiritual and emotional struggles hitting so very close to home that it was hard to read sometimes. Somehow it felt like Sigrid Undset had tapped in my not-yet-in-existence psyche and created Kristin Lavransdatter’s character from it. Even her physical description—once she’s older—is similar to mine. But maybe that’s just a testament to how well Undset wrote it. Perhaps everyone who reads it sees themselves in Kristin.
Head’s up: There are spoilers ahead. So if you plan to read this book, proceed with caution.
I was a nervous wreck the entire time I read “The Wreath” (book 1), feeling incredibly fearful for and protective of Kristin. I didn’t trust Erland. With what we learn of his character during book 1, I kept thinking, “no way he’s going to remain faithful to her; no way.” He was the predictable, impetuous, virile young man who didn’t know how to keep it in his pants. And I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her sometimes, shouting “don’t you see what kind of man he is?!” But, love…or what she thought was love…blinded her. That being said, if he ever strayed between the time that he first seduced 16-year-old Kristin (who was 12 years younger than him) to when they finally married about 3 years later, we never learned about it. The only thing we know for certain is that he never had sex with Eline again—the mother of his two out-of-wedlock born children—after meeting Kristin.
But then, in “The Wife” (book 2), there’s a chapter from Erland’s perspective where we learn how this marriage has affected him. They fought SO HARD to be together; she wanted to be his wife despite the mistakes of his past that damaged his reputation, and he was desperate to marry her, as well. He knew that if he could bring Kristin to his family estate as his wife, she would restore honor there. And she did; quite well. And within their first two or three years of marriage, his social standing improved significantly. Yet he wasn’t happy. She kept getting pregnant (*haaard eye roll*; see above “virile young man…”), and she was constantly sick and weak because her pregnancies were difficult, and there were so many children now and all he wanted was to be “in the north”, fulfilling his duties on behalf of the Regency, away from her and the children. And we learned he was, in fact, not faithful to Kristin after they were married when he was away for his official duties…multiple times, yet he didn’t think they were *actual* breaches of his marriage vows, because of where he was and the circumstances surrounding it. Excuse me, what?!?
I would compare reading this chapter to being hit by a bus which then drove over my body, backed up, and pulled forward to run over me again. I almost couldn’t keep reading the book because of how this chapter struck me. Honestly, I kind of felt like *I* had been cheated on…and I know how ridiculous that sounds. I kept trying to analyze why it made me feel like that, and all I can guess is because I related so much to Kristin’s internal struggles, that it was like I had been betrayed by the man I was sorely devoted to… a man for whom it had cost so much, just to be married to him…a man for whom she had DONE so much to help improve his life. Additionally, it was so disorienting, because we also see many glimpses where Erland practically loses his mind over how much he loves Kristin. Erlend is an inconsistent and flawed man.
But, about two-thirds of the way through book 2, it became clear to me what was at the root of their struggles: Kristin was a champion at being prideful and holding grudges—this is an element of Kristin’s personality that I share…not proudly; again, as I said earlier, this book was hard to read sometimes. Any transgression committed by Erland against her, no matter how small, was virtually never forgotten, and as a result she was often cold toward him, and constantly held over his head the wrongness of how they came to be together, despite the fact that she eagerly fell onto that path with him. And she cut herself off from him constantly. He would invite her to travel with him because he wanted to be near her, but she always refused.
It is frustrating to experience their inability/unwillingness to speak openly to each other about the things that are weighing on them. From her perspective: “I can’t trouble him with this; he already has to deal with so much.” From his perspective: “She looks so tired.” I can’t be too shocked, though. There are many married couples that just don’t know how to communicate. It’s sad.
Toward the end of book 2, this is finally brought to a head when Erland is desperately trying to understand his wife’s ill humor toward him and, as pointed out above, she takes the opportunity to pull some old hatchets out of the ground. Nothing he could say in his defense would soften her hardened heart toward him. In frustration, he is driven out of the house and shamefully ends up in bed with Sunniva Olavsdatter, which he regrets immediately. But, maddeningly, he returns to the woman every night for a whole week. This cannot be disguised from Kristin and she realizes that her husband has betrayed her.
I am not going to defend Erlend here…he made a really bad decision, but it’s hard not to sympathize with him. His wife’s non-stop reproaches drove him to making this really bad decision, which will come back to haunt him in the worst possible way. How many of us have done something stupid in anger? I’m not saying that we have a fight with our spouses/significant others and then go have an affair, but how many people go to a bar and have a bit too much to drink and then get in a car and drive afterwards? That happens a lot, and sometimes with disastrous outcomes. How many people cut themselves off from their spouses by turning to pornography?
It doesn’t take long for his reckoning to come, and when Kristin faces the strong likelihood of losing her husband forever by banishment or execution. (For the sake of clarity, he wasn’t going to be banished/executed because of the affair, but a scheme his mistress learned about, turning on him when he finally rejected her.) Then Kristen has a reckoning of her own, having to face the truth that she stubbornly ignored all the years she’s been with Erland…that she had been horribly unkind to him for their whole marriage. How she could extend grace and forgiveness easily to others for their offenses, but to her husband, she would never. Finally, her heart turns and we see for the first time how desperately she still wants to be with him and how she has softened toward him, realizing that she now understands him better, seeing that he is an upright and honorable man who would never betray his brothers in arms. It’s comforting to see their interactions after this; they were living totally in the moment, cherishing any time they had together…not speaking of past mistakes or the potential heartache that lie in the future. It encouraged me to see a return of tenderness between them. The book ends with Erlend being granted pardon, though it meant that he lost his titles, properties, etc., and they were forced to return to Kristin’s ancestral estate (Jorundgaard) as commoners.
Upon beginning “The Cross” (book 3), it was apparent that not much had actually changed, though, and it broke my heart all over again. I thought surely after that whole experience, it would give them a brand new appreciation and zeal for each other. But clearly, Erland was still pretty clueless about his shortcomings and Kristin wouldn’t dare talk to him about it. But, really, to sum up Erland’s supposed “shortcomings”: from my perspective, it’s really just the fact that he is able to move on with his life…he doesn’t agonize over mistakes of his past or wonder what might have been and he doesn’t hold ill-will toward anyone for what happened to him; I actually envy him for this. But Kristin clearly believes that he should be more wretched than he is, because from her perspective, their sons lost access to a secure future because of him.
She still harbors bitterness toward him, but she had apparently resolved to never verbalize it again, because of how close she was to losing him and how that experience made her realize she didn’t want to lose him. Once again, this became hard to read, because it puts center-stage what so many married couples struggle with in the modern age, as well: the inability to speak to each other…to confide in one another and talk about things in any constructive way. In book 2, Erlend was anxious to always be away from his cold, taciturn wife and growing brood of small children, but then Kristin did the same in Book 3, seeking opportunities to be away from her husband and certain of her children that were more like strangers to her. Ouch.
At this point, all I wanted was a happy ending for these two, but I started to come to terms with the fact that that would not happen.
In book 3, during a pivotal conversation between Erland and Kristin, when Kristin finally allows herself to be vulnerable and speak of her fears for the future of their sons to Erland, Erland listens and responds. Clearly, what he says is not what she wants to hear, though. I’ll say, however, as an impartial party, what he said made sense, and it’s based on the experience he had gained during his time in service to the country, things that, frankly, he understands better than Kristin does. This was even after Erland saves their son from being put in a terrible, TERRIBLE situation with a foreign, traveling knight. Erland is not the fool that she likes to tell herself he is. Also, his response was deeply rooted in a hopeful positive outcome of the future for their sons, and sometimes as a parent, that’s the best you can do—teach them as much as you can and hope for the best. But she lashed out at him, saying hurtful, unnecessary things and once again took the opportunity to dig up an old hatchet in the form of Sunniva Olavsdatter…a mistake we know he bitterly regrets. She always seems to need to have the final word…and I felt sorry for Erland.
Once again, he is driven away, and we see how she regrets the things she said to him. If I understood the timeline correctly, I think about two years passed before they saw each other again, and they reconciled in the sweetest way. It hurt my heart when I read it, though, because based on their history, I knew this sweetness wouldn’t last. Yes, they wanted to be together, but ultimately, neither of them was willing to sacrifice for the other because of their pride.
Their alienation leads to horrible rumors being spread about Kristin that led to cause a group of men arriving at their house, guarding over her sons—who attempted to assert their mother’s innocence, but caused a violent outbreak, and were therefore “under arrest”—until the rumors could be cleared, but when word reached Erland and he arrived to aid and defend her, she rebuffed him again, and then Erland was mortally wounded by a man that was there to keep guard.
As he lay dying, however, it’s clear how each of them are terribly remorseful for how they’ve injured each other in the past. And I just couldn’t help but think that it could have been prevented…it didn’t have to be this way.
I remember this song in the 90s—a country song, by Travis Tritt—called Foolish Pride. The song so perfectly describes what Kristin and Erland did to each other repeatedly. I remembered the chorus from the song easily:
Turn out the lights, the competition’s over
The stubborn souls are the losers here tonight
And while the bridges burn
Another hard hard lesson’s learned
As in the ashes, passion slowly dies
And this romance goes down to foolish pride
The events that happened after Erlend’s death show that Kristin had died inside when she lost her husband. And yet life around her moved on. Her sons set out to pursue their own lives. She was eventually replaced as the Mistress of her ancestral home by her daughter-in-law. After feeling that she’d become a burden, she left Jorundgaard for good to join a convent back in Nidaros to take vows and live the rest of her days as a nun.
We see a lot of her self-reflection where she feels remorseful over her heavy-handed willfulness and pride, and how she managed to plow over or drive away those she loved most. It’s so sad to me because she’d had these self-reflections multiple times in the past, and it was pointed out to her by people she loved and respected, yet she was never inspired to change. In the end, she was able to do something that brought her great comfort and peace in her soul, just before she died of the black plague.
The last thing I’m going to say about this book is that I see this as a cautionary tale. I’m not sure if that was Sigrid Undset’s intent, but since I do share so many traits with Kristin, that’s how I’ve interpreted it.
Bottom line, I would definitely recommend this book if you’ve never read it. It’s a long read (it is a trilogy, after all), however Undset’s prose and world-building is exquisite and I am so glad that I discovered this book. After the initial trauma of this story wears off, I’ll probably pick it up and read it again, because that’s how good it was.
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