Monstermenneske

by Kjersti Annesdatter Skomsvold

Da hun var sytten år, løp hun fortest og lengst og var ikke til å stoppe, men så stoppet alt opp. Kjersti skulle egentlig studere til å bli ingeniør, men ligger i stedet på gamlehjem. Hun hører en dame dø på den andre siden av veggen. Kjæresten orker ikke å bære henne lenger. Kjersti tenker at hvis hun kan klare å skrive en roman, vil hun igjen føle seg som et menneske. For en roman må være skrevet av et menneske. Hun begynner å skrive på gule post-it-lapper som hun klistrer på veggen over senga. Monstermenneske stuper inn i det syke, det stygge, det vakre, det selvransakende og det sårbare, med tankevekkende alvor og sjenerøs humor. Hvordan slutte å være redd og bli et menneske ute i verden?

Genres: Fiction, Novels, Disability, Scandinavian Literature

579 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2012

About the author

Kjersti Annesdatter Skomsvold made her literary debut in 2009 with the novel 'The Faster I Walk, the Smaller I Am'. The book was nominated for the Norwegian Booksellers' Prize, the P2-listeners' Novel Prize and won the Tarjei Vesaas' Debutant Prize (judged by The Literary Council of The Norwegian Authors´ Union). It was shortlisted for the International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award 2013. Skomsvold has dramatized the novel and the play premieres at the National Theatre (Oslo) in 2014.

In 2012 Skomsvold published her second novel, 'Monsterhuman'. It was shortlisted for the P2-listeners' Novel Prize and Natt & Dag's Best Book of 2012.

The poetry collection 'A Little Sad Mathematics' was published in 2013.

Skomsvold's books are translated into more than twenty languages.

Kjersti Annesdatter Skomsvold has also published several essays, short stories and poems in anthologies and literary magazines. She is on the editorial board of the literary magazine Bokvennen litterært magasin.

Skomsvold studied mathematics and computer science at the University of Oslo and at the Norwegian University of Science and Technology in Trondheim. Subsequently, she attended the Writers' Class at the Nansen Academy in Lillehammer and completed studies at the Academy of Writing in Bergen. She has also studied literature at the University of Oslo, and French at Université de Caen Basse-Normandie, France.

Reviews

[Ragna Louise]

Årets roman for min del. Den er et bevis og en fortelling om at mennesker kan forandre seg. Og hva som innebærer å leve sant og hvorfor det er viktig å slutte og være så redd. «Det du frykter, skaper du» Hovedpersonen Kjersti brytes helt ned på grunn av sykdom og blir liggende i kjelleren til mamma og pappa som 25-åring. Men livet stopper ikke der. Hun blir til en forfatter og det hun kaller for et «ærlighetsmonster» med håp om at ting blir jo å ordne seg.

[Brent Woo · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'll start by saying what it isn't. It contains almost no qualities I usually like: no serious insight, either literary or on the fatigue lifestyle (other than "she's tired a lot"), it's not particularly funny (though it is whimsical), not really emotional: she seems purposefully to keep the events and the illness—especially the illness—at arm's length, viewed very distantly. It's not a horror story, despite the title. She barely explores the relationships between people, except two or three friends. She moves through the world and people come and go but are separated by aquarium glass. The few recurring characters seem like talking heads with no actual body or form in the world. In terms of action, there's an inconsequential subplot at best, no real storytelling momentum is built up. But.

You meet Kjersti. You meet HER. She doesn't lead a particularly interesting life, but you walk with her throughout her pretty normal life, doing normal things, and getting into her brain. The major success is that she portrays actual living life without resorting to boredcore, the budget Tao Lin imitators. She gives up her dream of being the Norwegian Proust (we all know who claims that) and instead becomes the Norwegian Flaubert. She's a conscious overthinker, but also doesn't need the hurr durr relatable awkwardturtle ethos of tryhard webcomics. Neither does she linger in the mental world like Faulkner. Her external and internal world is literature. She makes literature metaphors and describes events in terms of writers; and internally she is wrestling with the main character of her book, as if the character was a real person. Knausgaard (she actually "meets" him a couple times in the book) wallows in the mundane as well, but usually has some reflection or some grand statement about life. Skomsvold does not. She does not reflect much or pithily summarize what just happened. As with most things in life, scenes do not customarily end with you gazing up at the stars and reflecting on your purpose in the universe. They just... happen.

I call this book maddening because despite all that it lacks in my first paragraph—despite the lack of plot, insight, drama, momentum—it is immensely enjoyable to read, and I'm frustrated that I can't pinpoint exactly why it's so good. I think it feels so comfortable because she gets so close to everyday existence, without couching it in irony or social commentary or political agenda or irreality. It's full to the brim with dialog and literary mentions and scenes of her struggling to write. Plus, she hangs out with Super Mario and Hemingway and gives a "literature concert", whatever that is.

The book starts with the interesting situation of her having debilitating chronic fatigue but also a long-term boyfriend. Already, that's a bestseller waiting to happen, but wait—

It becomes clear it's not an emotional story about her breakup (this happens so early it's hardly a spoiler). It happens, and... she goes on with life. Like I said above, she also keeps her fatigue at arm's length, and after a while it's completely jettisoned from the text, so there's no story about the triumph over the illness. Skomsvold is completely uninterested in currying empathy about her life, and in being so, I think—I think—she raises a very interesting question. As background, there's the eternal suffering artist question: do you have to suffer or experience death or trauma to make good art? In this book, I think she addresses a related, but understudied kind of question: if you ARE suffering, do you have to make art about it? Monsterhuman says No. By bringing up chronic fatigue, and then casting it away for most of the book, she rejects the idea that her illness should be dramatized. She is much more than her illness, but also, she is not a hero. Neither is her family: they are there, and provide the minimum amount of support, but they are usually getting groceries or things other than doting on Kjersti and being stage props for compassion. She would reject an award for Best Disabled Fiction, and would reject a documentary about her "poor, hard, sad life". She doesn't want you to give her pity or a pedestal, but she dares you to try. If you read this book looking for a tearjerker or ableist inspiration, you will be punished. If you read this book looking for a person, you will find her.

Hi seafoamrockviolence, I’m steephillbarbarian. Glad to meet you.

[Julie Kristine Wood · Rating 5 out of 5]

!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Frank Hestvik · Rating 3 out of 5]

In early 2015(?), in the midst of depression (that matters), I wrote:

The Ur-quote for this book would be on pg. 244:

"Jeg," sier jeg, [..]

It's autofiction, with heavy emphasis on the auto. In the first half its narrator details her time of being sick (with CFS) and starting the work that would become her successful debut (Jo fortere jeg går, jo mindre blir jeg). The middle half deals with trying to turn this work into a published book, studying writing, having a mentor, etc. And the last half deals with the subsequent success of said book, growing in confidence as an author, expanding on her knowledge of literature and its theory, and even musing about how she wants her next book (the one this is written in) to be. I say three halves because it also felt like a third (or more) of it could be left out without any loss.

Chronological laws are not obeyed and there is no 'plot' in any normal sense. It's a narration driven by memory and associations, flowing from scene to scene, often seemingly at random, though usually within its own vague time period. Anything can happen from one paragraph to the next, and it's left up to the reader to imagine the mundane mechanics of the everyday life which glue these disparate scenes or events together. Histories of relationships are left out, remembered conversations are sometimes expanded, sometimes just abbreviated a la "and then we talked about literature." The language develops: it is notably different from how it starts (simple) to how it ends (more lofty and 'literary'), much like in A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man, which I think works pretty well. In fact, I kind of enjoyed the language, especially at the end, there are plenty of v. beautiful bits in there... But at the same time it took a lot of effort (on my part, the part of the reader) to get there.

The narrator is deeply insecure and incredibly self-centered, almost plausibly borderline. In certain parts of the book she will bring up how ugly she feels every three pages, yet descriptions of other people's appearance is almost completely absent. (With the release of her debut she was interviewed by several newspapers, and the main fixation is on how bad/ugly she looks in the pictures. If you, like me, have seen those pictures, you will also then know how deep her dysmorphic river runs.) She is compelled to hide her insecurities though, to hide them (and in some way her entire self). She flirts with being an archetype of the nice, introverted doormat: demure, hides / runs away, wanting not to be a bother to anyone, says 'yes' to everything (e.g. experiencing herself as shy yet comes along whenever invited), afraid to hurt other people's feelings, restrained in her critique of others (to the point of being passive-aggressive!) yet ludicrously critical of herself, and so on.

"Er du ALLTID glad?" spør Ragny. Kjersti skjønner at hun må fortelle dem at hun i virkeligheten er stygg og trist.

Ehh.

Non-narrators equals non-persons: they very seldomly have any interests, personalities, dreams, or private lives. They just kind of pop in to say funny or beautiful things, to make the narrator anxious, or to serve as a calming influence on said anxiety.

This book doesn't taste at all like satire, but it seems maybe exaggerated in the sense of 'intensified' (Céline?). There are a lot more conversations, situations, and scenes that end with tears than I have ever seen as a vampiristic voyeur of highly emotional experiences. Either way, she feels a lot of things, all the time. The narrator oscillates between high self-confidence (w.r.t. ambition, capability, how everything will work out for her, flippantly uncaring about what others think of her, etc.) and crippling anxiety (where all that is gone, where it is the opposite), sometimes several times within the same page. She makes house calls to depression and anorexia. During some parts of high stress it got kind of exhausting to read about, in that "here we go again" kind of way that turns you - the cold, callous, insensitive, aloof asshole of a male reader - into just that: a cold, callous, insensitive, aloof asshole of a (male?) reader. When she freaks out but you know that two paragraphs down everything will turn out to be OK and nice because someone is going to say something dryly witty or she's going to read a beautiful quote or she's going to see a roe deer in the bushes or there's going to be a shooting star or some other such sublime moment... Yay! Except a couple of sentences later she she turns out her pockets to reveal some new anxiety and the cycle starts all over again. Sigh. That's a pattern that got to be a bit tiring and very repetitive for me in this book. I can't imagine how...incredibly exhausting it must be to actually live this way, to live out the narrator's experience in first person, but this book is perhaps a good introduction to the experience.

The narrator is highly intelligent and far from unaware. She is in fact keenly aware of this stuff. A quote where she is ostensibly talking about the main character in her debut, but just as obviously self-deprecating:

"Det rare er at jeg synes hun blir mer sympatisk i tredjeperson," sier hun, om Mathea.
"Jeg synes hun er sympatisk," sier Hilde.
"Men hun er så slitsom," sier Kjersti.
"Ja," sier Hilde. "Hun er slitsom."

(She tried switching the narration of her first book to a third-person perspective, which she also employs for that chapter in Monstermenneske itself.)

This is a wonderful fractal description of the book itself. "Sympathetic...yet wearisome."

Or: when she is at a gathering with her friend who is dying and most likely only has X years left to live, a gathering that apparently was mostly intended for her sick friend, but it ends up being only about herself and her own anxieties. In some comical conversations that follow it, other people points out her own self-absorption in an eye-rolling manner. So the honesty is certainly on point.

(The thing that bugged me the most tho: her relationship with the author-mentor-guru 'Hilde' is described in a very weird way that oozes of falsity. It is perhaps the only thing that ends up feeling restrained or 'off limits' when it comes to baring her inner self in the book. It was evidently a very deep and special relationship, based on something real, yet integral turning points are blatantly omitted, thus drawing attention to them without being willing to go further. The weirdness comes from being basically told about these very emotionally charged glimmers, like watching two shadows of Plato fall in love under strobe lights that turns all motion into a series of still frames, and then denying everything else (i.e. shown why they are so emotionally charged). ('Too much for words'? or maybe just 'too much'?) I also don't know why the author changed this character's gender (I felt this was a rather glaring modification?), making a lot of things seem even more 'out of character'. When musing over how she will be able to write about this person in her life, a friend suggested she could change 'her' to be a plumber instead of an author, an idea the narrator thinks is rather dumb. But is this better, or is it meant to be comical?)

Overall the book feels real and true, like having 'read a person.' My rating is subjectively influenced (in that moment) by my weariness of being given looping footage of identical roller-coaster rides when I rather wanted to enjoy the exquisite language Skomsvold can produce.

[Aellirenn Czyta · Rating 4 out of 5]

Potrzebowałam tej książki, żeby się przekonać, że nie zwariowałam :)

[Marit]

«For det finnes bare to typer mennesker, de som er døde, og de som ikke er døde ennå, og alt vil skje med oss alle, før eller senere, om bare det er tid nok.»

[Hanne · Rating 5 out of 5]

En fantastisk bok om å være syk, føle seg utenfor alt, skrive bok, forventningspress og kjærlighet. Skomsvold er like utleverende som Knausgård, og har en særdeles god observasjonsevne. Anbefales alle som har lyst til å lese noe om livet.

[Jon Vegard · Rating 5 out of 5]

I denne boka er det mange artige tanker. Eg er smått imponert.

[Noah · Rating 4 out of 5]

At its best: there is a whole lot of book here that is life and is prior to interpretation / resistant to the terms of representation, teetering at the moment of zen(?) humor. That is over half of the book, and it’s very Tao Lin ‘Bed’ adjacent. The rest is more literature, which is not very bad.

[Linekatzenmaier]

Måtte gi opp etter flere tapre forsøk!

[Anders · Rating 4 out of 5]

Skomsvold's sentences and metaphors make me smile and feel happy. The book touches upon so much in life - dreams, hopes, disease, depression, anxiety, happiness, love, relationships, writing, reading, literature, time. She jumps back and forth in time, as if, despite the opening quote by Einstein, everything happens at once. And that's great.

[Emily · Rating 5 out of 5]

In 20 years of reading about chronic illness this is the first time I've read a book that was so close to capturing pieces of my own experience.
When I bought Monsterhuman I had Kjersti's earlier book "The Faster I Walker, The Smaller I Am" already on my book shelf. I had tried unsuccessfully to read it. I'm hoping I'll go back to it now more successfully.
Using autobiographical fiction to examine the illness experience really gives it a fresh perspective. Monsterhuman is also important because Kjersti is not the typical patient, at the beginning of her story she's 17 and it continues through until she's about 30. I am grateful for this literary perspective of pain and illness now, but it would have been very helpful to me ten or fifteen years ago.
As amazing as I think Monsterhuman is, I won't be recommending it to everyone I know. It's now an easy read; in particular there are a few points when it is out of chronological sequence and others when she changes perspective which make it challenging to follow and not for everyone. For those who are interested in the experience of a long woman with a chronic illness and how she builds a career in a challenging but authentic and often funny text Kjersti Skomsvold's Monsterhuman is for you.

[Phil · Rating 2 out of 5]

review of Monsterhuman by Kjersti Skomsvold, translated by Becky L Crook

This is an autofic novel by Norwegian writer Kjersti Skomsvold. Her first novel was the excellent The faster I walk, the smaller I am.

This novel starts as 17 year old Kjersti is admitted to a care home for elderly people due to her ME/CFS. The novel progresses into a kind of Writing of novel documenting her writing of her first novel.

During the novel, there is a remark about how she'd like to write like Karl Ove Knausgaard. Unfortunately with this unwieldy 450 page autofic novel which has meandered and I found somewhat dull, she has succeeded in that. It just lacked the flare or humour of her first novel and the writing was stilted and I found it quite a trek to get through the novel. The novel could have done with losing 100 pages

[Aaron Cohen · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a book. An exemplary example of what "autofiction" can be, how the form of the novel can be tossed around indefinitely, from sentence to sentence even. I feel like I know the narrator of this novel maybe as well as any character from any novel I've read. But is that just the desired effect? What is the distance here, between author and character. I still don't really know, and it was very enjoyable to reflect on that tension, and question my interested in the real to begin with. Why do I care?

[Anja Klint · Rating 1 out of 5]

Jeg måtte opgive at læse bogen færdig. Jeg havde ofte svært ved at forstå hvilken scene forfatteren beskrev, hvem og hvad hendes hensigt var at fortælle om. Der var ikke meget der fangede mig, og hendes fortælleform var trættende.

Har ikke opgivet en bog før, så jeg forsøgte af flere omgange at læse bogen færdig, men tænkte kun på, hvor fantastisk det ville blive at kunne komme igang med en anden.

[Ronkeli · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kauhistuttavan pitkä ja hidas kirja, jonka alussa hirviöihminen alkaa raahautua pois väsymyksestä ja ahdistuksesta kohti elämää. Naurattaa, väsyttää, surettaa ja vaikka mitä lukiessa. Luin norjaksi, mikä osaltaan selittää kuinka sain vietettyä tämän parissa monta kuukautta, mutta myös sisältö aiheutti taukoja. Piti välillä vetää henkeä ennen kuin sukellettiin uudestaan.

[Patrick Probably DNF · Rating 2 out of 5]

I think this book would be extremely helpful (and relatable) to anyone suffering from chronic fatigue syndrome (ME). Beyond that, it's hard to think of an audience who would enjoy slugging through page after page of mundane details with no story in sight. DNF.

[Tara Hassel · Rating 1 out of 5]

Dette var ærlig talt noe av det kjedeligste og mest langdryge jeg har lest. Kom bare til 60% uti boka.

[Katrinka · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great book; found myself laughing out loud on many an occasion. A fuller review is included in an essay here: https://walkingthewire.substack.com/p...

[Astrid · Rating 3 out of 5]

Boka er som ME selv, altfor langvarig og tung å komme seg gjennom. Tapre forsøk på å fortelle hvordan det er å leve og prøve å mestre tilværelsen med en tidvis invalidiserende og grusom sykdom, preget av mye redsel og angst. Imponert over åpenheten forfatteren viser. Men jeg har problemer med å virkelig leve meg inn i mørket hennes og forstå tankene hennes. Om det skyldes hennes måte å formidle på eller svikt i min innlevningsevne er jeg usikker på. Den rørte meg rett og slett ikke.

Men mye gjenkjennbart; noen ganger føler jeg at hun klarer å sette ord på ting jeg som ME-syk har vanskelig for å uttrykke selv. Hun skriver godt, men det blir for mye ord og diffuse og filosofiske betraktninger om skriveprosessen, med referanser til forfattere jeg ikke har noe forhold til (og det kan jo strengt tatt ikke hun lastes for). De morsomme anekdotene synes jeg ikke var spesielt morsomme; det ble for meg et litt krampaktig forsøk på å fortelle at hun er en meget morsom person. Men, man har jo gjerne ulik humor, og jeg kan bare svare for meg selv.

Ble også sliten av det nevrotiske fokuset på utseende; det er sikkert sånn hun er, men det ble litt for mange gjentakelser av det temaet etter min mening. Bilder av henne viser at hun er en normalt pen jente, men ens eget selvbilde stemmer jo ikke alltid overens med hva andre synes. Boka hadde nok hatt godt av litt strammere redigering, og kunne med fordel vært halvparten så lang. Prosjektet hennes om å bruke ulikt språk for å illustrere sin utvikling som person, synes jeg ikke hun lykkes med.

Jeg gir den 4 stjerner på tross av alle mine innvendinger. En modig bok om et viktig tema. Kommer nok til å følge hennes forfatterskap, og har en mistanke om at hun er i en prosess der hun enda ikke helt har funnet sin egen stemme enda.

[Emma · Rating 5 out of 5]

Jeg mener bestemt at jeg har plukket opp Monstermenneske på et tidligere tidspunkt, da uten å fullføre lesingen. Det burde jeg ha gjort. Jeg tror ikke romanen er perfekt for alle. Den er lang, til tider litt usammenhengende, og jeg blir litt usikker på i hvilken retning den vil. Men språket er som å lese det som foregår i hodet mitt, alle situasjoner er sett igjennom karakteren Kjersti, fullt ut subjektivt. Leseren er ikke en flue på veggen, leseren er Kjersti. Jeg tror først og fremst romanen appellerer til meg fordi språket og framstillingen er så gjenkjennelig. Dessuten engasjerer jeg meg i karakteren Kjersti. På mange måte skulle boken vært kortere, vært snørt tettere sammen, eller enda bedre: vært det i to. Den begynner med at Kjersti er syk av ME og skriver de første notatene til det som skal bli hennes debutromant, og ender mens hun skriver på sin andre utgivelse - med andre ord dekker den mye. Men Kjersti drar meg inn i hodet sitt og der vil jeg så gjerne bli.

Den er lang og språket utvikler seg mye fra del til del. Det ble litt vanskelig å virkelig finlese fordi jeg brukte så mye tid på den og la den fra meg over flere dager av gangen. Derfor håper jeg inderlig at jeg tar meg tid til å lese Monstermenneske om igjen ved en senere anledning.

"Da min svenske kompis spurte hva de to t-ene stod for, og jeg ikke kunne svare, men Anne Mari foreslo trygdetransport, skammet jeg meg nesten, midt oppi latteren, og jeg har lest at når vi ler av noe er det fordi det treffer ja- og nei-senteret i hjernen samtidig

[Katrine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jeg har brukt altfor lang tid på denne boka, men det er ikke fordi den ikke er god, men fordi jeg bare er treg til tider. Boka er definitivt god. Den er stor som en murstein og dekker en veldig lang periode, så det var deler jeg likte bedre enn andre osv. Begynner med da Kjersti er syk med ME og skriver debutboken hennes, og hvordan hun går videre i livet og skriver andreboka, denne. Jeg ville lese den fordi jeg hadde lest debutboka til Skomsvold, og likte den utrolig godt. I jo fortere jeg går, jo mindre er jeg, er det rarheten og finheten til Mathea vi får lese om, her er det selve Skomsvolds. Jeg tror hun må være en ganske fin person å være venn med. Jeg tror det jeg likte aller best var mange av de fine måtene hun sa ting på, og alle sitatene hun flettet inn.

[Kristin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mange tanker. Mye depresivt. Den starter godt og blir bare tyngre og tyngre å lese og forstå, men mot slutten blir det lettere og lysere.

Anbefaler å lese "jo fortere jeg går, jo mindre er jeg" først. Siden "monstermennesket" handler om denne boka og alt rundt den.

[Lisbeth · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dette er en av de beste bøkene jeg noen gang har lest. Så trist og sår og forfatteren skriver så vakkert om å være syk og om å skrive og jeg elsker bøker som handler om å skrive. Dette er en bok som gikk rett i hjertet på meg <3

[Anja Regine · Rating 2 out of 5]

Kjedelig navnedroppende knausverk. Godt ment.

[Trine · Rating 1 out of 5]

Den ble for lang og depressiv.

[Elizabeth · Rating 3 out of 5]

Endelig ferdig! Må bruke litt tid på å fordøye denne tror jeg, men absolutt ingen dårlig bok.. tror jeg.

[Tea · Rating 2 out of 5]

Klarte ikke å la være å lese boken ferdig, for den forandret seg hele tiden og jeg ville "skjønne den". Det gjorde jeg aldri, og jeg ble aldri særlig engsasjert av den heller.

[Irene]

Stoppet opp,levert tilbake

[Ida · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tenk om det er sånn med alt i livet mitt. At jeg kommer til å klare meg fint men i frykt så klarer jeg ingenting, ligger lammet av skrekk under dyna.

Når det regner forventer jeg mindre av meg selv.