The Goodreads female reviewer who complained it's a lad's coming-of-age narrative that suddenly veers off into "booze and broads" didn't do it justice. What do you expect, at least judging from my "lived experience" (or wishful thinking, as a teen)? Granted it's the middle of a trilogy meant as full quartet (Rölvaag died before this happened), so it feels very similar to our own century's expectations for the middle of a seasons-stretched series, screened or read. It's an installment, a production line.
It's not bad. But if you're familiar with the gist of Joyce's "Portrait of the Artist," with a restless boy chafing against the forces of maternal suppression, clerical meddling, political squabbles, and dreary duty, while "life" appears to whir past somewhere exciting, sinful, and transgressive, it's all repeated.
Beret, Peder's depressing and repressed mother, four years after the end of Giants in the Earth, also critiqued by me recently, deals with widowhood on the lonesome prairie. Not much alters for her, as the chapters alternate, after setting up her son's formation (his siblings get barely walk-on roles). So the pace stays soporific too often. The details of division of the Dakotas into two admitted states, the bickering of Lutheran synods, and the predicted loss of the Norwegian tongue within two decades as children like Peder secularize, defect from custom, and court Irish Catholic lasses may bore audiences.
However, as part three awaits Peder and his bride's marriage, I guess being curious from the latter's side of the nuptial aisle, I'll invest my attention in Their Father's God. Whose title captures the mood. As with part one, the translation holds up nearing its centennial well enough, a credit to its author and American collaborators. But the plot's ponderous, and I sense gloom won't lift after a honeymoon.