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223 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1996
— That national socialism should have such a magic flute at its disposal. With such a wonderfully beautiful sound. So beautiful that…Enquist’s scenes condense Hamsun’s life in lyrical rapidity. His four children, who should have been self-confident expressions of his steadfast, oversimplified philosophical world view, instead display many of the human failings one might expect of children whose father is literally perceived as a national icon.
— Yes?
— …that we can’t afford to throw it away. His friend looks at him without a smile.
— Oh yes. We will have to.
— You have taken everything from me. My honor, by books, my money, my home. My honor. My…works. My children. My marriage. And now you want to take my trial.Enquist in his concluding thoughts opines: “It is not easy to deal with a person who has wanted nothing more in his last twenty years than to die, who then decides differently because he first wants to be judged.”
Silence.
— Monday around nine?
But Hamsun says only:
— I want my verdict.