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Unquiet
A stunning, genre-bending book about time, memory, and the author’s extraordinary childhood as the daughter of a genius filmmaker and his muse.
The idea was to write a book about old age, because growing old, her father said, is hard work. They would meet at his beloved house on a Swedish island, surrounded by pines, cliffs, and the Baltic Sea. She’d ask the questions, he’d answer them, she’d transcribe everything, and in the end, they’d have a book. He promised he’d answer her questions honestly, but she wasn’t sure she believed him, and when she finally came to the island with her tape recorder, old age had caught up with him in ways that neither of them could have foreseen.
Unquiet is a heartbreaking, funny, and poetic story of love and family, an exploration of memory and loss, identity and art, growing up and growing old. In her most inventive novel yet, Linn Ullmann blends memory and fiction in a luminous meditation on language, mourning, and the many narratives that make up a life.
387 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 1, 2015
320 people are currently reading
5542 people want to read
About the author
Linn Ullmann
13 books342 followersLinn Ullmann is the daughter of actress, author and director Liv Ullmann and director and screenwriter Ingmar Bergman.
She is a graduate of New York University, where she studied English literature. She returned to Norway in 1990 to pursue a career in journalism.
Her first novel Before You Sleep was published in 1998. Her second novel, Stella Descending (2001) received glowing reviews. Her third novel Grace was published in 2002 and won the prominent literary award “The reader’s prize” in Norway and was named one of the ten best novels of that year by the prestigious Danish newspaper Weekendavisen.
In 2007, Grace was longlisted for the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize in the UK. That same year, Ullmann was awarded the prestigeous Norwegian Amalie Skram prize.
Her fourth novel, A Blessed Child, was published in the fall of 2005, and was shortlisted for the Brage Price, one of Norway's most prestigious literary awards. Currently she is working as a journalist and a regular columnist in Norway’s leading newspaper Aftenposten.
She is a graduate of New York University, where she studied English literature. She returned to Norway in 1990 to pursue a career in journalism.
Her first novel Before You Sleep was published in 1998. Her second novel, Stella Descending (2001) received glowing reviews. Her third novel Grace was published in 2002 and won the prominent literary award “The reader’s prize” in Norway and was named one of the ten best novels of that year by the prestigious Danish newspaper Weekendavisen.
In 2007, Grace was longlisted for the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize in the UK. That same year, Ullmann was awarded the prestigeous Norwegian Amalie Skram prize.
Her fourth novel, A Blessed Child, was published in the fall of 2005, and was shortlisted for the Brage Price, one of Norway's most prestigious literary awards. Currently she is working as a journalist and a regular columnist in Norway’s leading newspaper Aftenposten.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 484 reviews
February 2, 2019
Audiobook read by Isabel Keating
This was an ‘interesting’ and often ‘unsettling’ Nordic novel.... ( semi- autobiographical).
It’s the first book I’ve read by Lin Ullman.
The main character is a young girl. She has no name. None of the characters have names. There is mother. There is father. Not married. While this young girl is eager to grow up - know who she is -
her parents needed to grow up themselves.
I understand it’s intentional when an author chooses to have nameless characters..
Author Vendela Vida has done it -
and while I can appreciate the the creative artful writing that the ‘no-names’ contribute to a luminescent and evocative of tale of longing - grief - and hope...
I prefer my characters to have names.
The young girl loves her mother, her Nana and Jesus ( because she was told Jesus loves her)...
but she loves her mother most.
The father was a famous filmmaker. The plan was for the girl who is an adult -would return to the stony summer home and Baltic Sea - where she visited every summer of her growing years. She and her dad - now 80 years of age - were going to write a book together about old age.
But her fathers old age deterioration and his memory loss is much worse than she had ever imagined when she arrive on the island with her tape recorder.
We get a story about the the distraught mother, father and growing child.
The mother who the child loved best of all - clinging love - desperate for her mother- was constantly being abandoned. Her mother was always leaving. The child was begging and crying for her.... fearful she wouldn’t come back.
What kind of mother continues to leave her child as much as she did, especially knowing how hurtful it was to her own daughter? Not a healthy mother. Narcissistic yes.
The mothers deepest desire was to be loved unconditionally, but be left alone in peace. She thought she hid this feeling? Ha ... who was she kidding.
Children hear and see everything.
The young girl - as a child - and the girl as adult ... desires to understand where and who she came from - unraveling the truth about her past and her own identity.
I liked it this book - the audio-voice was excellent - I appreciated it - all these matters of human concerns - but I didn’t ‘passionately’ love it.
Perhaps - I’ve read one too many books similar... too close together.
3 to 3.5 stars — good, interesting crafting, not a favorite - but good!!
This was an ‘interesting’ and often ‘unsettling’ Nordic novel.... ( semi- autobiographical).
It’s the first book I’ve read by Lin Ullman.
The main character is a young girl. She has no name. None of the characters have names. There is mother. There is father. Not married. While this young girl is eager to grow up - know who she is -
her parents needed to grow up themselves.
I understand it’s intentional when an author chooses to have nameless characters..
Author Vendela Vida has done it -
and while I can appreciate the the creative artful writing that the ‘no-names’ contribute to a luminescent and evocative of tale of longing - grief - and hope...
I prefer my characters to have names.
The young girl loves her mother, her Nana and Jesus ( because she was told Jesus loves her)...
but she loves her mother most.
The father was a famous filmmaker. The plan was for the girl who is an adult -would return to the stony summer home and Baltic Sea - where she visited every summer of her growing years. She and her dad - now 80 years of age - were going to write a book together about old age.
But her fathers old age deterioration and his memory loss is much worse than she had ever imagined when she arrive on the island with her tape recorder.
We get a story about the the distraught mother, father and growing child.
The mother who the child loved best of all - clinging love - desperate for her mother- was constantly being abandoned. Her mother was always leaving. The child was begging and crying for her.... fearful she wouldn’t come back.
What kind of mother continues to leave her child as much as she did, especially knowing how hurtful it was to her own daughter? Not a healthy mother. Narcissistic yes.
The mothers deepest desire was to be loved unconditionally, but be left alone in peace. She thought she hid this feeling? Ha ... who was she kidding.
Children hear and see everything.
The young girl - as a child - and the girl as adult ... desires to understand where and who she came from - unraveling the truth about her past and her own identity.
I liked it this book - the audio-voice was excellent - I appreciated it - all these matters of human concerns - but I didn’t ‘passionately’ love it.
Perhaps - I’ve read one too many books similar... too close together.
3 to 3.5 stars — good, interesting crafting, not a favorite - but good!!
July 14, 2023
Unquiet will be one of my great books of the year. To check published reviews, I've put links to three at the end.
What I've written about here is what I wanted to ask when I'd finished reading it.
When you read e-books, you don't have the physical presence of the book to remind you what it says about itself on the cover. The cover of Unquiet quite clearly says ‘a novel’, but that’s not how it felt as I read it. It felt like memoir. Breathtaking. Devastating. How could she wade in such difficult family waters?
I wanted to know more about how Ullmann arrived at the unusual form and tone of the book, why the three central characters, the mother, the father and the girl/daughter had no names. Answers came from a deeply thoughtful interview she gave on Louisiana.dk channel, subtitled in English thank goodness. (https://vimeo.com/186255598)
This is part of what she said:
‘This is really a book about age, about ages that are hard to get through. But we get through them. …It is about children who want to be adults and adults who want to be like children. And that complicates matters – but complications are good’.
Unquiet elaborates on earlier novels, is more autobiographical, has arisen from her earlier work and she said she could only have written it now.
She thought about the book for years before physically writing it, considering how she might write a book about her parents, or a version of her parents. Gradually she moved from considering what she could or couldn't write about, into the world of the novel itself, where her considerations were those of voice and form.
‘The form and the voice are everything. It’s the form that creates suspense, gives life – that creates fear and laughter. It’s all down to the composition, the timing, where you place the comma. That’s where the prose begins…. Working with composition on this book was so liberating – because I couldn't write this book which is so very personal – and firmly rooted in my own life and that of my dear ones - had I not found the voice that could carry this subject matter’.
The form of this book is a loving nod to her father whose favourite music was the Bach Cello suites, all of which have six dance movements. Each section in the book is named for one such movement (eg, Sarabande, Gigue). She used the choreography and the mood of the dances in Bach’s Fifth Cello Suite to evoke the mood and voice in each of the six parts of the book.
Each of them goes back to the same stories, dilemmas and variations – but they are told in different voices. It was liberating and fun to work like that.’
Writing is about listening for the right voice….
She cites John Berger: ‘to write autobiographically you need to be all alone’. Something about getting there all alone is the key to writing. Both writing and reading demand a kind of loneliness – that can be hard to obtain but which is nice when you get it. …It a free, quiet space that allows you to be stringent.
Asked about alternation between first person narrator and the girl, she talks about why her characters are nameless. ‘Names are very laden’. Because this novel contains many autobiographical elements, she felt it was just wrong to call the mother and father by their actual names. ‘That would reduce the daughter to a concrete block on my desk’.
It was liberating to abstain from using names, and to alternate between first and third person – like changing the lighting on a movie set so that you see from different perspectives.
She constantly queries the issue of writing autobiographically – memory is rich but untrustworthy.
The only way I could write this book was to write about people I’ve been close to, tapping into my own experiences, and to do that I ‘had to recreate us as if we didn't exist other than in the novel’. Writing about them as fictive characters enabled her to write them more truthfully, she said, than if she’d set out to write a true biography. ‘Subterfuge is very liberating. It helps you to be as truthful as you can.’
She was not interested in writing about famous parents. She wanted to write about her father’s aging, the effects of his forgetfulness, his and her own vulnerability, and his death.
And finally, a recurring theme in all her book is that her characters are imperfect – vulnerable and restless but they keep fighting.
A couple of reviews, which concentrate more on the book’s stories and the family relationships:
https://www.the-tls.co.uk/articles/un...
https://www.theguardian.com/books/202...
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/01/17/bo...
What I've written about here is what I wanted to ask when I'd finished reading it.
When you read e-books, you don't have the physical presence of the book to remind you what it says about itself on the cover. The cover of Unquiet quite clearly says ‘a novel’, but that’s not how it felt as I read it. It felt like memoir. Breathtaking. Devastating. How could she wade in such difficult family waters?
I wanted to know more about how Ullmann arrived at the unusual form and tone of the book, why the three central characters, the mother, the father and the girl/daughter had no names. Answers came from a deeply thoughtful interview she gave on Louisiana.dk channel, subtitled in English thank goodness. (https://vimeo.com/186255598)
This is part of what she said:
‘This is really a book about age, about ages that are hard to get through. But we get through them. …It is about children who want to be adults and adults who want to be like children. And that complicates matters – but complications are good’.
Unquiet elaborates on earlier novels, is more autobiographical, has arisen from her earlier work and she said she could only have written it now.
She thought about the book for years before physically writing it, considering how she might write a book about her parents, or a version of her parents. Gradually she moved from considering what she could or couldn't write about, into the world of the novel itself, where her considerations were those of voice and form.
‘The form and the voice are everything. It’s the form that creates suspense, gives life – that creates fear and laughter. It’s all down to the composition, the timing, where you place the comma. That’s where the prose begins…. Working with composition on this book was so liberating – because I couldn't write this book which is so very personal – and firmly rooted in my own life and that of my dear ones - had I not found the voice that could carry this subject matter’.
The form of this book is a loving nod to her father whose favourite music was the Bach Cello suites, all of which have six dance movements. Each section in the book is named for one such movement (eg, Sarabande, Gigue). She used the choreography and the mood of the dances in Bach’s Fifth Cello Suite to evoke the mood and voice in each of the six parts of the book.
Each of them goes back to the same stories, dilemmas and variations – but they are told in different voices. It was liberating and fun to work like that.’
Writing is about listening for the right voice….
She cites John Berger: ‘to write autobiographically you need to be all alone’. Something about getting there all alone is the key to writing. Both writing and reading demand a kind of loneliness – that can be hard to obtain but which is nice when you get it. …It a free, quiet space that allows you to be stringent.
Asked about alternation between first person narrator and the girl, she talks about why her characters are nameless. ‘Names are very laden’. Because this novel contains many autobiographical elements, she felt it was just wrong to call the mother and father by their actual names. ‘That would reduce the daughter to a concrete block on my desk’.
It was liberating to abstain from using names, and to alternate between first and third person – like changing the lighting on a movie set so that you see from different perspectives.
She constantly queries the issue of writing autobiographically – memory is rich but untrustworthy.
The only way I could write this book was to write about people I’ve been close to, tapping into my own experiences, and to do that I ‘had to recreate us as if we didn't exist other than in the novel’. Writing about them as fictive characters enabled her to write them more truthfully, she said, than if she’d set out to write a true biography. ‘Subterfuge is very liberating. It helps you to be as truthful as you can.’
She was not interested in writing about famous parents. She wanted to write about her father’s aging, the effects of his forgetfulness, his and her own vulnerability, and his death.
And finally, a recurring theme in all her book is that her characters are imperfect – vulnerable and restless but they keep fighting.
A couple of reviews, which concentrate more on the book’s stories and the family relationships:
https://www.the-tls.co.uk/articles/un...
https://www.theguardian.com/books/202...
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/01/17/bo...
April 4, 2023
2023: 5 stjerner. Fortsatt ca like fin som jeg husket. Litt usikker om begeistringen min er like sterk som i 2016, men ingen tvil om at dette er en av mine favoritter (hvis det er mulig å rangere bøker på den måten). Glad jeg leste den igjen, og glad jeg ikke ble skuffet.
2016: 5 stjerner. Dette er noe av det fineste jeg har lest på lenge. Skulle gjerne gitt boka flere enn 5 stjerner.
2016: 5 stjerner. Dette er noe av det fineste jeg har lest på lenge. Skulle gjerne gitt boka flere enn 5 stjerner.
May 3, 2019
A stunning tribute/memoir written as a novel - such beautiful writing and descriptions - my only wish is that I could read it in its original language
December 18, 2017
Linn Ullmann skriver om hur det är att vara barn till kända föräldrar och barn till en äldre förälder. Denna vemodiga bild av uppväxt och åldrande kommer att stanna med mig länge.
Sedan blev jag påmind om att döttrarna kan vara väldigt oförlåtande till sina mammor. Det känner jag igen alltför väl från egna erfarenheter som dotter och mor.
Inte heller är det nytt att Linn Ullmann skriver vackert och att jag älskar hennes språkbruk.
Det är den bild av den magnifika ön och inblickar i Maestros storslagna personlighet som höjer boken i mina ögon.
Sedan blev jag påmind om att döttrarna kan vara väldigt oförlåtande till sina mammor. Det känner jag igen alltför väl från egna erfarenheter som dotter och mor.
Inte heller är det nytt att Linn Ullmann skriver vackert och att jag älskar hennes språkbruk.
Det är den bild av den magnifika ön och inblickar i Maestros storslagna personlighet som höjer boken i mina ögon.
March 6, 2021
izvrstan (auto)biografski zapis o ingmaru bergmanu, švedskom redatelju i scenaristu kojeg kći linn, autorica, prati u posljednjoj etapi života snimajući njihove razgovore i prisjećajući se odrastanja kao najmlađe od devetero djece (koje je imao sa šest žena od kojih je s pet njih bio u braku).
bez pretjerane emocionalnosti i bez ikakvog moralnog suda (a s obzirom na čušpajz žena i djece, brakova i razvoda, ljubavnica i skandala), linn je finim riječima opisala intimni život svog oca, svoje majke (liv ullmann), a i dotakla se svog. da bi uživao u ovoj knjizi ne trebaš biti bergmanov obožavatelj; ako već jesi, onda je ovo obavezno štivo za tebe.
bez pretjerane emocionalnosti i bez ikakvog moralnog suda (a s obzirom na čušpajz žena i djece, brakova i razvoda, ljubavnica i skandala), linn je finim riječima opisala intimni život svog oca, svoje majke (liv ullmann), a i dotakla se svog. da bi uživao u ovoj knjizi ne trebaš biti bergmanov obožavatelj; ako već jesi, onda je ovo obavezno štivo za tebe.
December 14, 2022
Üçlemenin ilk kitabı "Huzursuzlar" bir otobiyografik kurmaca, güzel bir hesaplaşma anlatısı. Linn Ullmann, Ingmar Bergman ile aktris Liv Ullmann'ın kızı. Liv Ullmann'la Bergman, yönetmenin dördüncü ile beşinci evliliği arasında aşk yaşamış, haliyle evlenmemişler. Ancak dostlukları ömür boyu devam etmiş, birbirlerine hep gizli gizli notlar göndermişler, yazışmışlar. Linn Ullmann, Bergman'ın dokuzuncu evladı. Çocukluğunda birçok yazı, Bergman'ın Baltık Denizindeki Faro Adasında geçirirmiş. O sıralar Bergman 50 yaşlarında - Liv Ullmann'dan yirmi küsür yaş büyük. Linn doğduğunda 48 yaşındaymış.
Ingmar ile Liv'inki hayli eşitsiz bir ilişki elbette. Bergman kılı kırk yaran, alabildiğine disiplinli ve hastalık derecesinde dakik, her istediğini gerçekleştiren itibarlı, büyük bir sanatçı, kuralları o koyuyor ve herkesin uymasını bekliyor. Liv Ullmann'sa, ki kitabın ortalarına doğru varlığı ortaya konuyor, muazzam bir başlangıç yapmış büyük bir oyuncu ama ara ara gösteri piyasasının taleplerine boyun eğen, sözgelimi şarkı söyleyemediği halde Broodway'de sahneye çıkan, kendine düşkün biri; bazen talepkâr ilişkilerde sürüklendiği izlenimini veriyor. Bergman'la yaşadığı aşk ilişkisinin ardından büyük bir yükle, bakmak zorunda olduğu bir çocukla kalakalmış. İkili arasındaki eşitsizlik ebeveyn görevleri açısından da kendini belli ediyor; kızları Linn, asla babam nerede? diye haykırmıyor, ancak annesinden ayrı kalmaya dayanamıyor - sık sık bu duruma düşse de. Liv Ullmann ara ara Amerika'ya taşındığında onunla gitmek istiyor; annesinin gösterileri ve çekimleri sırasında uzun süreler ona şefkat gösteremeyen bakıcıların insafına kalıyor. Kısacası, otoriter, uzak, sürekli meşgul ve tüm dünyanın hayran olduğu bir baba figürü ile fazlasıyla ünlü, güzel, ancak yer yer yıpratıcı bir oyunculuk kariyerine kapılmış, o nedenle kızına vakit ayıramayan, bunalımlı ve eksik bir anne figürü söz konusu. Linn Ullmann yine de kurban olmayı seçmemiş ve güçlü ebeveyniyle onları öcüleştirmeden, onların zayıflıklarını da iyi yanlarını da ortaya koyarak hesaplaşabilmiş. Kendi hayat yolculuğunda da benzer şekilde terk edilmeler, boşanmalar ve yeni başlangıçlar yaşamış - bu yaşadıklarıyla çocukluğu arasında belli belirsiz paralellikler kurmuş.
"Huzursuzlar" aynı zamanda da baba-kız ilişkisi ve yaşlanma üzerine bir anlatı - hatta hatta zamanı geldiğinde ebeveynlerinin ebeveyni olmak üzerine. Zira zamanın çizgisel bir doğrultuda akmadığı metin Linn'le babasının son döneminde yaptıkları ses kayıtlarının deşifreleriyle bölünüyor. Bergman'ın bir hatırladığı bir unuttuğu ya da konuşmamayı tercih ettiği bu diyaloglar, onun yaklaşan ölümü karşısındaki tavrını, ölme hazırlığını da sergiliyor.
"Huzursuzlar"ın eslere, duraklara, suskunluklara yer vermesi, anlatmayarak çok şey anlatması da dikkat çekici. Linn Ullmann nerede susması gerektiğini biliyor.
Linn'in annesi Liv'le pek derinlikli bir ilişki kuramadığı, Liv'in hayatının büyük kısmında bunalımlı bir hayat yaşadığı anlaşılıyor - bir yerde kameralar önünde sömürüldüğü ve gösteri piyasasının talepleri karşısında giderek yıprandığı hissediliyor. Bergman'la konumu gerçekten de eşitsiz. Ancak Bergman da, otoritesine, bencilliğine karşın haliyle fazlasıyla duyarlı ve incelikli biri. Son zamanlarda özellikle auteur yönetmenler çok öcüleştiriliyor. Elbette her şey konuşulmalı, irdelenmeli, sanatçı diye kutsallaştırılmamalı. Lakin onlar da o toplumun, o dünyanın bir parçası; toplum ve düzene sinmiş o derin çelişkileri kendi benliklerinde sergiliyorlar, mükemmel değiller.
Linn Ullmann, bu iki zor karakterin, bu iki dev ağacın gölgesinde solup gitmemiş, kendi olmayı başarabilmiş bir yazar. Kitap onlarla baş etme ve o savaştan çıkma, onlarla her koşulda hesaplaşma ve barışma hikayesini anlatıyor.
Ingmar ile Liv'inki hayli eşitsiz bir ilişki elbette. Bergman kılı kırk yaran, alabildiğine disiplinli ve hastalık derecesinde dakik, her istediğini gerçekleştiren itibarlı, büyük bir sanatçı, kuralları o koyuyor ve herkesin uymasını bekliyor. Liv Ullmann'sa, ki kitabın ortalarına doğru varlığı ortaya konuyor, muazzam bir başlangıç yapmış büyük bir oyuncu ama ara ara gösteri piyasasının taleplerine boyun eğen, sözgelimi şarkı söyleyemediği halde Broodway'de sahneye çıkan, kendine düşkün biri; bazen talepkâr ilişkilerde sürüklendiği izlenimini veriyor. Bergman'la yaşadığı aşk ilişkisinin ardından büyük bir yükle, bakmak zorunda olduğu bir çocukla kalakalmış. İkili arasındaki eşitsizlik ebeveyn görevleri açısından da kendini belli ediyor; kızları Linn, asla babam nerede? diye haykırmıyor, ancak annesinden ayrı kalmaya dayanamıyor - sık sık bu duruma düşse de. Liv Ullmann ara ara Amerika'ya taşındığında onunla gitmek istiyor; annesinin gösterileri ve çekimleri sırasında uzun süreler ona şefkat gösteremeyen bakıcıların insafına kalıyor. Kısacası, otoriter, uzak, sürekli meşgul ve tüm dünyanın hayran olduğu bir baba figürü ile fazlasıyla ünlü, güzel, ancak yer yer yıpratıcı bir oyunculuk kariyerine kapılmış, o nedenle kızına vakit ayıramayan, bunalımlı ve eksik bir anne figürü söz konusu. Linn Ullmann yine de kurban olmayı seçmemiş ve güçlü ebeveyniyle onları öcüleştirmeden, onların zayıflıklarını da iyi yanlarını da ortaya koyarak hesaplaşabilmiş. Kendi hayat yolculuğunda da benzer şekilde terk edilmeler, boşanmalar ve yeni başlangıçlar yaşamış - bu yaşadıklarıyla çocukluğu arasında belli belirsiz paralellikler kurmuş.
"Huzursuzlar" aynı zamanda da baba-kız ilişkisi ve yaşlanma üzerine bir anlatı - hatta hatta zamanı geldiğinde ebeveynlerinin ebeveyni olmak üzerine. Zira zamanın çizgisel bir doğrultuda akmadığı metin Linn'le babasının son döneminde yaptıkları ses kayıtlarının deşifreleriyle bölünüyor. Bergman'ın bir hatırladığı bir unuttuğu ya da konuşmamayı tercih ettiği bu diyaloglar, onun yaklaşan ölümü karşısındaki tavrını, ölme hazırlığını da sergiliyor.
"Huzursuzlar"ın eslere, duraklara, suskunluklara yer vermesi, anlatmayarak çok şey anlatması da dikkat çekici. Linn Ullmann nerede susması gerektiğini biliyor.
Linn'in annesi Liv'le pek derinlikli bir ilişki kuramadığı, Liv'in hayatının büyük kısmında bunalımlı bir hayat yaşadığı anlaşılıyor - bir yerde kameralar önünde sömürüldüğü ve gösteri piyasasının talepleri karşısında giderek yıprandığı hissediliyor. Bergman'la konumu gerçekten de eşitsiz. Ancak Bergman da, otoritesine, bencilliğine karşın haliyle fazlasıyla duyarlı ve incelikli biri. Son zamanlarda özellikle auteur yönetmenler çok öcüleştiriliyor. Elbette her şey konuşulmalı, irdelenmeli, sanatçı diye kutsallaştırılmamalı. Lakin onlar da o toplumun, o dünyanın bir parçası; toplum ve düzene sinmiş o derin çelişkileri kendi benliklerinde sergiliyorlar, mükemmel değiller.
Linn Ullmann, bu iki zor karakterin, bu iki dev ağacın gölgesinde solup gitmemiş, kendi olmayı başarabilmiş bir yazar. Kitap onlarla baş etme ve o savaştan çıkma, onlarla her koşulda hesaplaşma ve barışma hikayesini anlatıyor.
September 14, 2025
Kitabı bitirdiğimde de dün yaşadığım kafa karışıklığı geçmedi. Evet yarım bırakma isteği duymadan, bir kenarda bırakıp unutmadan sonuna geldim. Bazı paragrafların ya da bölümlerin anlatımını, yaşadığı duygusal karmaşayı yansıtmasını, birbirine uyumsuz parçaların birleştirilmesiyle oluşan desene uzaktan bakmayı sevdim. Ama zaten paramparça bir geçmişin izlerini, kopuk ilişkilerin tarihini bu kadar dağınık ve düzensiz bir anlatının içinde okumaktan yoruldum. Kitabı merakla okuduğum anlarda bile “acaba bu kitabı yazan kişi Bergman’ın kızı olmasaydı aynı merakla okur muydum?” sorusu aklımı meşgul etti ve cevap maalesef olumsuzdu. Zaten ebeveyn sorumluluğu hayatlarının merkezinde olmayan anne ile babanın arasında, kendi kendine büyümeye çalışan ve aile kavramına dair hep sert bir duvara çarpan bir kadının; unutulma- unutma, kendi açısından hatırlama yükünü ve asla gerçek anlamda sahip olamadığı bir babanın yasını tutmaya çalışmasını okumak çok kolay bir süreç değil. Üzerine bu kadar dağılıp her paragrafta her şeyi tekrar toplamaya çalışmak benim için kitabın tadını kaçıran bir konuydu. Okuduğuma pişman değilim ancak herhangi birisine de tavsiye edeceğimi sanmıyorum.
December 28, 2016
Jeg keder mig. Efter 130 sider keder jeg mig stadig. Måske er det stilistisk smukt, men der sker ikke en skid. Og jeg spørger hele tiden mig selv: ville dette her have nogen som helst interesse for nogen, hvis ikke det lige var en kendt skuespiller & instruktør, der var Pigens forældre.
Jeg irriteres over den tilsyneladende distance. Selvbiografi i tredje person: "Pigen gør dit, Pigen gør dat." Pigen er oftest i audiens hos den kendte kunstnerfader.
Jeg irriteres over den forblommede nøgleroman-stil: Pigen, faren, moren. Pigen blev døbt Beate Karin, men kaldt noget andet (det er jo meget hemmeligt, hvad) - som om vi ikke anede hvem det handlede om - så er vi da sikre på, at det mest handler om kendtheden.
Handlingen, hvis man kan kalde den det, kredser neurotisk mellem "Elskede den berømte far nu "Pigen" (nok)?" og "Mon pigen kan leve op til kunstnerfaderens ambition om det fælles værk" - mens han mister hukommelsen. Uuuuh spænding: Er diktafonen mon for dårlig - Ja, gå da endelig rundt og frygt det i 5 år, med båndene i håndtasken, hvor du symbolsk bærer rundt på hele dit liv... [Så tag dig dog sammen og find ud af det, men det kan man måske ikke, når man har sådan en kuuuunstnersjæl?]
Konkluderer det er (endnu) en bog jeg simpelthen ikke er neurotisk nok til (lige som Clarice Lispector, som jeg læste tidligere på året). Det er muligt det er dømt stor kunst, men jeg orker ikke 270 sider mere i samme rille.
Jeg irriteres over den tilsyneladende distance. Selvbiografi i tredje person: "Pigen gør dit, Pigen gør dat." Pigen er oftest i audiens hos den kendte kunstnerfader.
Jeg irriteres over den forblommede nøgleroman-stil: Pigen, faren, moren. Pigen blev døbt Beate Karin, men kaldt noget andet (det er jo meget hemmeligt, hvad) - som om vi ikke anede hvem det handlede om - så er vi da sikre på, at det mest handler om kendtheden.
Handlingen, hvis man kan kalde den det, kredser neurotisk mellem "Elskede den berømte far nu "Pigen" (nok)?" og "Mon pigen kan leve op til kunstnerfaderens ambition om det fælles værk" - mens han mister hukommelsen. Uuuuh spænding: Er diktafonen mon for dårlig - Ja, gå da endelig rundt og frygt det i 5 år, med båndene i håndtasken, hvor du symbolsk bærer rundt på hele dit liv... [Så tag dig dog sammen og find ud af det, men det kan man måske ikke, når man har sådan en kuuuunstnersjæl?]
Konkluderer det er (endnu) en bog jeg simpelthen ikke er neurotisk nok til (lige som Clarice Lispector, som jeg læste tidligere på året). Det er muligt det er dømt stor kunst, men jeg orker ikke 270 sider mere i samme rille.
December 29, 2019
3.5, rounded down.
This is a decidedly odd book, and a hard one to rate. While purportedly a novel, there is no pretense that this ISN'T about the author's famous parents, Ingmar Bergman and Liv Ullmann (there is a halfhearted 'explanation' for its designation as fiction at the beginning of part four, but it makes little sense). And if one isn't already enamored and fascinated by the real life protagonists, there is really no reason to dive in. But the problem is, even though the book is well-written and flows smoothly, very little of import is actually gleaned about them - and what there is, is rather dispiriting.
Much of the book is based on a series of recorded interviews the author did with her famous father towards the end of his life - but by that point, he was suffering dementia and the major portion of the recordings have little to do with his work, art or philosophy ... in fact the majority of it is him saying he is too tired to work that day, and them scheduling the NEXT appointment. The author's actress mother comes off equally harshly, a woman who spends way too much time catering to the whims of whatever man has caught her fancy, and who seemingly cares little for the joys of motherhood.
All that said, the book does have a certain hypnotic appeal, and I can't say I am sorry I read it - just disappointing in that it doesn't tell one what one probably wants to know.
This is a decidedly odd book, and a hard one to rate. While purportedly a novel, there is no pretense that this ISN'T about the author's famous parents, Ingmar Bergman and Liv Ullmann (there is a halfhearted 'explanation' for its designation as fiction at the beginning of part four, but it makes little sense). And if one isn't already enamored and fascinated by the real life protagonists, there is really no reason to dive in. But the problem is, even though the book is well-written and flows smoothly, very little of import is actually gleaned about them - and what there is, is rather dispiriting.
Much of the book is based on a series of recorded interviews the author did with her famous father towards the end of his life - but by that point, he was suffering dementia and the major portion of the recordings have little to do with his work, art or philosophy ... in fact the majority of it is him saying he is too tired to work that day, and them scheduling the NEXT appointment. The author's actress mother comes off equally harshly, a woman who spends way too much time catering to the whims of whatever man has caught her fancy, and who seemingly cares little for the joys of motherhood.
All that said, the book does have a certain hypnotic appeal, and I can't say I am sorry I read it - just disappointing in that it doesn't tell one what one probably wants to know.
April 22, 2018
Giving up at half the book. This is a story about a girl whose very famous parents are emotionally, and most times also physically, non-available to her. Her anger is understandable and justifiable, but there's nothing new to read here and no new insights. Even the chosen perspective of the mature daughter who is visiting and talking to her aging father doesn't add anything new or interesting. The relationships are so cold and alienated that you never feel anything, and keep wondering what these people are made of. The language tries to be poetic but just makes everything even more bland. Not a good read, I'm afraid, unless '70s gossip is your thing.
September 14, 2017
A biography on Linn Ullman and her parents, the famous Ingmar Bergman and Liv Ullman.
Linn Ullman writes about a girl, a mother and a father. She never mentions the names of the characters, and despite their fame it could have been about almost anyone. She doesn't concentrate on that part of their lives, not much anyway, but more about their personalities and relationships.
Ingmar Bergman was a phenomenal director, really outstanding, but he didn't know how to care for children. In the book, he watches movies with his daughter in his own cinema, and arranges planned sittings, where they talked about everything they wanted to. Everything has to be planned, and the worst he knows is someone not being on time. Therefor, the girl is worried when he, one day, are late.
It is very sad when he begins to drift away, not as sharp as he used to be. There is such a difference when an intellectual person that has used his vocabulary and intelligence in his profession, eventually become a shadow of his former self. The change is so visible and painful.
Liv Ullman was working as an actress, moving from Oslo to New York and bringing her daughter. She was not the ideal mother, but tried the best she could. It feels like Linn was more affected by her mother's occasional absence than her father's constant absence. She seemed to accept Ingmar Bergman's way, and to only see him a few weeks every summer at the summer house. Perhaps, because she never really got to know him as a father. Her mother was part of her life, almost always present, and it made the need and dependence so much bigger.
Liv Ullman has a special way of writing. The prose is almost poetic and occasionally very strong. However, sometimes it feels repetitive. Some parts have digressions that feel unnecessary.
All in all, it is an interesting book.
Linn Ullman writes about a girl, a mother and a father. She never mentions the names of the characters, and despite their fame it could have been about almost anyone. She doesn't concentrate on that part of their lives, not much anyway, but more about their personalities and relationships.
Ingmar Bergman was a phenomenal director, really outstanding, but he didn't know how to care for children. In the book, he watches movies with his daughter in his own cinema, and arranges planned sittings, where they talked about everything they wanted to. Everything has to be planned, and the worst he knows is someone not being on time. Therefor, the girl is worried when he, one day, are late.
It is very sad when he begins to drift away, not as sharp as he used to be. There is such a difference when an intellectual person that has used his vocabulary and intelligence in his profession, eventually become a shadow of his former self. The change is so visible and painful.
Liv Ullman was working as an actress, moving from Oslo to New York and bringing her daughter. She was not the ideal mother, but tried the best she could. It feels like Linn was more affected by her mother's occasional absence than her father's constant absence. She seemed to accept Ingmar Bergman's way, and to only see him a few weeks every summer at the summer house. Perhaps, because she never really got to know him as a father. Her mother was part of her life, almost always present, and it made the need and dependence so much bigger.
Liv Ullman has a special way of writing. The prose is almost poetic and occasionally very strong. However, sometimes it feels repetitive. Some parts have digressions that feel unnecessary.
All in all, it is an interesting book.
March 30, 2023
Linn Ullmann’ın otobiyografik üçlemesinin ilk kitabı Huzursuzlar beni derinden etkiledi. Ingmar Bergman ve Liv Ullmann’ın çocuğu olmak, ünlü bir çiftin, babanın, annenin çocuğu olmak, sanatçıların ilişkilerle, aile hayatıyla, ölümle, yaşlılıkla sınavı, Oslo ve Amerika’da dadılarla geçen çocukluk ve ilk gençlik, bağlılık ihtiyacına dair tüm çabalar…
Gerçekle kurmaca arasında yaşamını sorgulayan yazarlardan Ullmann. Yazar bir yandan yaşadıklarına mesafeli bakmaya çalışmış, öte yandan kırgınlıklarını, hayal kırıklıklarını, keskin gözlemlerini yazıya dökmekten de çekinmemiş. Anılarını kurmacaya uyarlamış. Faroe Adasında geçen tatilleri, babasının kuralcılığı, annesinin yoğun hayatı, yetişkinlikte kendi aile hayatına da yansıyan endişeleri.
1966’da evlilik dışı doğan yazarın annesi Liv Ullmann’ın yaşadığı ayrımcılıklar, Bergman’ın 9 çocuğunun en küçüğü olarak “yaşlı bir babaya” sahip bir çocuk olmanın tüm bunların arasındaki yeri, babasıyla yazmaya çalıştığı kitap ve son teypler, sanatçıların insani yanları.
Detaylarıyla da, kurgusuyla da severek okuduğum bir kitap Huzursuzlar. Üçlemenin devamını da merakla bekleyeceğim.
Gerçekle kurmaca arasında yaşamını sorgulayan yazarlardan Ullmann. Yazar bir yandan yaşadıklarına mesafeli bakmaya çalışmış, öte yandan kırgınlıklarını, hayal kırıklıklarını, keskin gözlemlerini yazıya dökmekten de çekinmemiş. Anılarını kurmacaya uyarlamış. Faroe Adasında geçen tatilleri, babasının kuralcılığı, annesinin yoğun hayatı, yetişkinlikte kendi aile hayatına da yansıyan endişeleri.
1966’da evlilik dışı doğan yazarın annesi Liv Ullmann’ın yaşadığı ayrımcılıklar, Bergman’ın 9 çocuğunun en küçüğü olarak “yaşlı bir babaya” sahip bir çocuk olmanın tüm bunların arasındaki yeri, babasıyla yazmaya çalıştığı kitap ve son teypler, sanatçıların insani yanları.
Detaylarıyla da, kurgusuyla da severek okuduğum bir kitap Huzursuzlar. Üçlemenin devamını da merakla bekleyeceğim.
August 1, 2023
"Envelhecer é um trabalho."
Tenho na minha estante uma biografia de Ingmar Bergman, da autoria da Cristina Carvalho, mas com o lançamento deste livro, acabei por o deixar para depois. Preferi que Bergman chegasse a mim através das palavras da sua filha, através destes escritos sobre o envelhecer, esse processo tão assustador para alguns, e de gratidão para outros.
Nestas páginas temos memórias dos verões que Linn passou entre bobinas, projectores e películas numa casa com regras, onde tudo era planeado, nada era improviso. O cinema, a grande paixão do seu pai, era o momento esperado do dia. A sessão tinha hora marcada, para cumprir religiosamente.
A autora passeia pelas memórias do tempo, para a frente e para trás, sem seguir uma linha cronológica fiel. Recheado de excelentes referências bibliográficas e da velha questão existencial de Deus na nossa vida, muito presente.
Muito bom, recomendo.
Tenho na minha estante uma biografia de Ingmar Bergman, da autoria da Cristina Carvalho, mas com o lançamento deste livro, acabei por o deixar para depois. Preferi que Bergman chegasse a mim através das palavras da sua filha, através destes escritos sobre o envelhecer, esse processo tão assustador para alguns, e de gratidão para outros.
Nestas páginas temos memórias dos verões que Linn passou entre bobinas, projectores e películas numa casa com regras, onde tudo era planeado, nada era improviso. O cinema, a grande paixão do seu pai, era o momento esperado do dia. A sessão tinha hora marcada, para cumprir religiosamente.
A autora passeia pelas memórias do tempo, para a frente e para trás, sem seguir uma linha cronológica fiel. Recheado de excelentes referências bibliográficas e da velha questão existencial de Deus na nossa vida, muito presente.
Muito bom, recomendo.
August 19, 2017
SÅ stark 'sense of place'. Inte minst tack vare Radioföljetongens produktion: http://sverigesradio.se/sida/artikel....
"Känslomässigt rabalder tolereras inte", men vem blir inte berörd av att tänka på hur Bergman mot slutet av sitt liv tog den röda jeepen till snickaren i Slite för att tala om likkistans utformning. Noterade också att hans favorit-Woody-film var 'Crimes and Misdemeanors' och finner det sympatiskt.
/Eder syster i natten
"Känslomässigt rabalder tolereras inte", men vem blir inte berörd av att tänka på hur Bergman mot slutet av sitt liv tog den röda jeepen till snickaren i Slite för att tala om likkistans utformning. Noterade också att hans favorit-Woody-film var 'Crimes and Misdemeanors' och finner det sympatiskt.
/Eder syster i natten
March 21, 2017
Mesterlig. Umiddelbar favoritt!
January 4, 2020
Being total fan of Ingmar Bergman when I was in my late teens, and having a total crush on Liv Ullmann at that time meant I really went into this from the wrong angle. My focus was more on them than their child and that child’s memories of her relationship with those parents, especially with her father. It is only when I got three-quarters through did I start to understand where the writer was coming from. I need to reread, but not for some time. Three stars to say it will probably turn out to be much better than it seemed at the time, and to suggest others reading forget who her parents were and just focus on families and memories.
July 8, 2017
The best book I reda so far this year. Beautifully written.❤️
July 25, 2017
Helt underbar och hjärtekrossande
March 10, 2025
4.5⭐️
📌 Ben babamın çocuğu ve annemin çocuğuydum, ama onların çocuğu değildim, asla üçümüz olamadık; önümde dağ gibi yığılı fotoğrafları karıştırdığımda üçümüzün de olduğu tek bir fotoğraf bile bulamıyorum. Annem, babam ve ben.
Bu takımyıldızı hiç var olmadı.
📌Pek çok çocuk gibi, kız listeler tutmaya ve hesap kitap yapmaya bayılırdı, birileri babası hakkında bir şeyler soracak olursa şöyle cevap verebilirdi: Babamın dört tane evi, iki arabası, beş karısı, bir yüzme havuzu, dokuz çocuğu ve bir de sinema salonu var.
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📚📝✒️
İlksöz: Ben babamı çok sevdim.
Ünlü yönetmen, filminde rol alan kadın oyuncuya aşık olur. Aralarındaki yaş farkına boyun eğmezler, tutkularına kapılırlar. Bu ilişkiden bir kız çocuğu dünyaya gelir. Tutkulu aşk kısa bir süre sonra tükenir ama arkadaşlıkları devam eder, iletişimlerini koparmazlar. Hatta her yıl belirli bir süre küçük kız Fârö'de babasının evinde kalır. Evlilik dışı bir çocuk olsa da, babanın 5 evliliğinden 9 çocuğu daha olsa da baba-kız arasında farklı bir bağ oluşur. Küçük kız büyüyüp, evlenip çocuk sahibi olduktan sonra da sürekli babası ile ilgilenmeye devam eder. Farklı kıtalar, farklı ülkelerde yaşasalar da ilgisi hiç azalmaz.
Kitabın çıkış noktasına gelirsek; babanın yaşlandıkça unutkanlıkları artar ve baba-kız birlikte oturup baba hakkında bir kitap yazmaya karar verirler. Merkezine bu fikri alan kitap baba ile kız arasında çocukluktan bugüne kadar var olan ilişkiyi, anıları, zamanda sıçramalar yaparak aktarır. Bazen kızın kendi yaşamına odaklanıp daha fazla ayrıntı verir bazen de babanın yaşamı ön plana çıkar. Zamandan bağımsız verilen bilgiler ve anılar bir araya gelip baba-kız arasındaki o harika bağı ortaya döker.
Linn Ulmann ünlü yönetmen Ingmar Bergman'ın kızı. Annesi de sinema oyuncusu Liv Ulmann. Dolayısıyla kitapta aktarılanlar yaşanmışlıklarla kurmacanın harika bir uyumu. Tam bir anı-roman. Anlatılanlar bir o kadar samimi ve sıcak. Başlarda sorunlu gibi görüyorsunuz baba-kız bağını. Yazar o kadar güzel bir aktarımla, dramlaştırmadan ama her cümlede samimiyeti sezerek, yavaş yavaş okuyucuya o bağın ne kadar kuvvetli olduğunu hissettiriyor.
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Çok severek ve keyif alarak okudum Huzursizlar'ı. Üçlemenin ilk kitabıymış ama sanırım diğerleri Türkçeye çevrilmemiş. Bilgisi olan varsa paylaşırsa sevinirim. Diğer kitapları araştırırken yazarın bir başka kitabı Stella Düşerken'in de kütüphanemde olduğunu görünce çok sevindim. Ayrıca okuma sonrasında Bergman filmleri gösterimini de en kısa sürede yapma kararı aldım, ertele ertele nereye kadar. #korsaniledünyaturu bu kez Norveç'teydi. Çok çok sevdiğim kitabı herkese öneririm, özellikle baba-kız bağı kuvvetli olanlara ayrıca öneriyorum. Sağlıcakla. Kitapla.
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Sonsöz(ler):
📌 Vedalaşmayı kavuşmalardan daha iyi beceriyorduk hep. Ben doğduğumda babam yaşlıydı, kırk sekiz yaşındaydı, şu anda benim olduğum yaşta, her zaman benden kırk sekiz yaş daha büyük olacak. Onunla her vedalaştığımızda bunun büyük olasılıkla son kez olduğunu düşünürdüm hep.
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📌 Kendisi bu kitabı elinde siyah keçeli kalemiyle okumuştu. Sayfaların kenarına notlar almıştı.
Cümlelerin altını çizmişti. Onun okuduğu, içini karalayıp çizimler yaptığı bir kitabı okumak yanlış bir şey söyleme korkusuna kapılmadan onunla konuşmak gibiydi.
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📌 Sonra babasız kalıyorsun ve babasız olanları arıyorsun, babalarını ya da annelerini kaybetmiş yazarların kitaplarını ve makalelerini okuyorsun, anneden çok baba üzerine yazan pek çok yazar sayabilirim, hiç düşünmeden. Babamın yasını nasıl tutacağımı bilemedim, sadece öldüğünde değil ama yıllar sonra bile yasını yanlış tuttuğumu düşündüm ve bu yüzden babasını ya da annesini ya da her ikisini birden kaybetmiş yazarların kitaplarını okudum. Sonra eşlerini kaybetmiş yazarların kitaplarını okudum, yas ve yasın farklı biçimlerine dair yazılmış kitapları okumaya doyamadım.
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.
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📌 Ben babamın çocuğu ve annemin çocuğuydum, ama onların çocuğu değildim, asla üçümüz olamadık; önümde dağ gibi yığılı fotoğrafları karıştırdığımda üçümüzün de olduğu tek bir fotoğraf bile bulamıyorum. Annem, babam ve ben.
Bu takımyıldızı hiç var olmadı.
📌Pek çok çocuk gibi, kız listeler tutmaya ve hesap kitap yapmaya bayılırdı, birileri babası hakkında bir şeyler soracak olursa şöyle cevap verebilirdi: Babamın dört tane evi, iki arabası, beş karısı, bir yüzme havuzu, dokuz çocuğu ve bir de sinema salonu var.
.
.
📚📝✒️
İlksöz: Ben babamı çok sevdim.
Ünlü yönetmen, filminde rol alan kadın oyuncuya aşık olur. Aralarındaki yaş farkına boyun eğmezler, tutkularına kapılırlar. Bu ilişkiden bir kız çocuğu dünyaya gelir. Tutkulu aşk kısa bir süre sonra tükenir ama arkadaşlıkları devam eder, iletişimlerini koparmazlar. Hatta her yıl belirli bir süre küçük kız Fârö'de babasının evinde kalır. Evlilik dışı bir çocuk olsa da, babanın 5 evliliğinden 9 çocuğu daha olsa da baba-kız arasında farklı bir bağ oluşur. Küçük kız büyüyüp, evlenip çocuk sahibi olduktan sonra da sürekli babası ile ilgilenmeye devam eder. Farklı kıtalar, farklı ülkelerde yaşasalar da ilgisi hiç azalmaz.
Kitabın çıkış noktasına gelirsek; babanın yaşlandıkça unutkanlıkları artar ve baba-kız birlikte oturup baba hakkında bir kitap yazmaya karar verirler. Merkezine bu fikri alan kitap baba ile kız arasında çocukluktan bugüne kadar var olan ilişkiyi, anıları, zamanda sıçramalar yaparak aktarır. Bazen kızın kendi yaşamına odaklanıp daha fazla ayrıntı verir bazen de babanın yaşamı ön plana çıkar. Zamandan bağımsız verilen bilgiler ve anılar bir araya gelip baba-kız arasındaki o harika bağı ortaya döker.
Linn Ulmann ünlü yönetmen Ingmar Bergman'ın kızı. Annesi de sinema oyuncusu Liv Ulmann. Dolayısıyla kitapta aktarılanlar yaşanmışlıklarla kurmacanın harika bir uyumu. Tam bir anı-roman. Anlatılanlar bir o kadar samimi ve sıcak. Başlarda sorunlu gibi görüyorsunuz baba-kız bağını. Yazar o kadar güzel bir aktarımla, dramlaştırmadan ama her cümlede samimiyeti sezerek, yavaş yavaş okuyucuya o bağın ne kadar kuvvetli olduğunu hissettiriyor.
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Çok severek ve keyif alarak okudum Huzursizlar'ı. Üçlemenin ilk kitabıymış ama sanırım diğerleri Türkçeye çevrilmemiş. Bilgisi olan varsa paylaşırsa sevinirim. Diğer kitapları araştırırken yazarın bir başka kitabı Stella Düşerken'in de kütüphanemde olduğunu görünce çok sevindim. Ayrıca okuma sonrasında Bergman filmleri gösterimini de en kısa sürede yapma kararı aldım, ertele ertele nereye kadar. #korsaniledünyaturu bu kez Norveç'teydi. Çok çok sevdiğim kitabı herkese öneririm, özellikle baba-kız bağı kuvvetli olanlara ayrıca öneriyorum. Sağlıcakla. Kitapla.
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Sonsöz(ler):
📌 Vedalaşmayı kavuşmalardan daha iyi beceriyorduk hep. Ben doğduğumda babam yaşlıydı, kırk sekiz yaşındaydı, şu anda benim olduğum yaşta, her zaman benden kırk sekiz yaş daha büyük olacak. Onunla her vedalaştığımızda bunun büyük olasılıkla son kez olduğunu düşünürdüm hep.
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📌 Kendisi bu kitabı elinde siyah keçeli kalemiyle okumuştu. Sayfaların kenarına notlar almıştı.
Cümlelerin altını çizmişti. Onun okuduğu, içini karalayıp çizimler yaptığı bir kitabı okumak yanlış bir şey söyleme korkusuna kapılmadan onunla konuşmak gibiydi.
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📌 Sonra babasız kalıyorsun ve babasız olanları arıyorsun, babalarını ya da annelerini kaybetmiş yazarların kitaplarını ve makalelerini okuyorsun, anneden çok baba üzerine yazan pek çok yazar sayabilirim, hiç düşünmeden. Babamın yasını nasıl tutacağımı bilemedim, sadece öldüğünde değil ama yıllar sonra bile yasını yanlış tuttuğumu düşündüm ve bu yüzden babasını ya da annesini ya da her ikisini birden kaybetmiş yazarların kitaplarını okudum. Sonra eşlerini kaybetmiş yazarların kitaplarını okudum, yas ve yasın farklı biçimlerine dair yazılmış kitapları okumaya doyamadım.
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May 15, 2022
A gorgeous memoir-novel, which takes as its starting point a series of taped conversations between Ullmann and her father, the famous film director Ingmar Bergman as he was entering old age. The idea was that they would write a book together, a collaboration on the subject of aging. There are only six recordings, the sound quality is bad, and through them Bergman is disappearing, his words, his thoughts, his physicality. While there is an extra frisson knowing that the writer is the 9th child of Bergman and the daughter of the famous Swedish actress, Liv Ullmann, this isn't a gossipy tell-all, indeed neither father nor mother are actually named. Bergman is the father or Pappa; Liv Ullman is the mother or Mama, and the writer is alternately the girl, or her, and sometimes I. It is a beautiful meditation on family, and what it means to disappear into old age, and the ability or inability to recall memories of what happened when. At the core, there is the unfulfilled longing for clarity and accountability from parents who are artists. The father is a punctual man, a man with rules, who sees his daughter only during the summer on the island that is his own fiefdom, a place of sea and trees and nature and stones and lambs and various houses and various rooms that all have their specific purposes. Water is not to be drunk in the living room. When the door to his study is shut, no one is to knock. He's a man whose commitments to art, eros, and self-exploration dictate a certain remoteness with his children. Nine in all, with six different women, and he organized his life and theirs on the island to defend his routines. And yet, one can feel the love, and the little girl's awe and desire and nervousness around her father. Movie time in the old barn was at 3 PM sharp, and one was to be there at 10 to 3, to settle in, settle down, to allow the eyes to alter, before the movie began. Videotapes of movies could be borrowed, but there was a sheet for checkout and check-ins. The old windmill was where the kids brought boyfriends/girlfriends/lovers. The father isn't cold, but his pronouncements and views are specific, don't brook any interference, and are sometimes funny and sometimes sad, when considering they were heard/felt by his young daughter. The mother is more bluntly judged - the girl was more often with her mother than with her father, but even then, there is a sense of abandonment, often left to be raised by a succession of babysitters. "I was his child and her child, but not their child," she writes, "it was never us three." It's a collage-like portrait of a family splintered almost immediately, and she's trying to isolate the mother, the father, and the daughter, and the way they intersect. Beautifully written with intensity beneath the placid surface, there is both heartbreak and humor. It will be hard to read a traditional memoir after this.
July 30, 2021
ανησυχία : ουσιαστικό θηλυκό
(ορισμός) συναίσθημα ελαφριού άγχους και φόβου για την κατάσταση κάποιου, την κατάληξη ενός γεγονότος κλπ.
Η Linn Ullmann κόρη της ηθοποιού/σκηνοθέτιδας Liv Ullmann και του σκηνοθέτη Ingmar Bergman μας αφηγείται τη ζωή και τη σχέση της με τους γονείς της καθώς και τους λόγους που συντέλεσαν στη συγγραφή αυτού του βιβλίου.
Τα πρώτα χρόνια της ζωής της έζησε με τους γονείς της στο σπίτι που έφτιαξε ο πατέρας της στο Χάμαρς. Όταν οι γονείς χώρισαν έμενε εκεί τα καλοκαίρια μαζί με τα μεγαλύτερα ετεροθαλή αδέρφια της. Ο Igmar Bergman είχε 9 παιδιά από 6 γυναίκες και η Linn ήταν η μικρότερη όλων.
Τα χρόνια περνούν με πολλά ταξίδια αφού ακολουθούσε τη μητέρα της όπου την οδηγούσαν οι επαγγελματικές της υποχρεώσεις. Μόνη σταθερά της τα καλοκαίρια της στο Χάμαρς και η ρουτίνα που είχε διαμορφώσει ο πατέρας της. Ένας πατέρας δάσκαλος, με μέτρο, πειθαρχία, πρόγραμμα, συνέπεια.
Όταν εκείνος ήταν πλέον πάνω από ογδόντα χρονών αποφάσισαν να γράψουν μαζί ένα βιβλίο για τα γηρατειά.
"ΑΥΤΟΣ Νομίζω ότι το να γερνάς είναι μια σκληρή, εξουθενωτική, άχαρη δουλειά με ατελείωτο ωράριο.
ΑΥΤΉ Ναι
ΑΥΤΟΣ Αλλά το είναι ουσιώδες... Τι είναι ουσιώδες!... "
Έτσι ξεκινά η καταγραφή των διαλόγων τους σε ψηφιακό μαγνητόφωνο. Οι συζητήσεις αυτές δεν ολοκληρώθηκε ποτέ. Ο χρόνος και η φθορά της υγείας του θα βάλουν τέλος στο όραμα τους. Το μαγνητόφωνο κάπου παράπεσε ώσπου επτά χρόνια μετά το θάνατο του πατέρα της ήρθε απρόσμενα στα χέρια της. Αυτό ήταν και το εφαλτήριο για τη συγγραφή αυτού του βιβλίου.
Ένα βιβλίο για τη ζωή, τα χρόνια που περνούν, τα γηρατειά, τις μνήμες που χάνονται όσο οι εμπειρίες συσσωρεύονται, μια σχέση αντιστρόφως ανάλογη.
Μνήμες δικές μας, μνήμες άλλων, φωτογραφίες, ημερολόγια, αφηγήσεις, στιγμιότυπα ζωής που μας προσδιορίζουν.
Είναι η σχέση μας με τον εαυτό μας και τους άλλους που καθορίζεται από τις μνήμες μας, από τα συναισθήματα που έχουν δημιουργηθεί. Ακόμα και όταν οι μνήμες ξεθωριάζουν ή σβήσουν, όσα είχαμε νιώσει παραμένουν εγγεγραμμένα στο υποσυνείδητο μας.
Ένα βιβλίο που θα συγκινήσει λίγο παραπάνω όσους είδαν τους αγαπημένους τους σταδιακά να τους χάνουν και να χάνονται από την άνοια / Alzheimer.
Ο Ερνστ Ίνγκμαρ Μπέργκμαν ήταν Σουηδός σκηνοθέτης και σεναριογράφος.
Απεβίωσε σαν σήμερα το 2007.
(ορισμός) συναίσθημα ελαφριού άγχους και φόβου για την κατάσταση κάποιου, την κατάληξη ενός γεγονότος κλπ.
Η Linn Ullmann κόρη της ηθοποιού/σκηνοθέτιδας Liv Ullmann και του σκηνοθέτη Ingmar Bergman μας αφηγείται τη ζωή και τη σχέση της με τους γονείς της καθώς και τους λόγους που συντέλεσαν στη συγγραφή αυτού του βιβλίου.
Τα πρώτα χρόνια της ζωής της έζησε με τους γονείς της στο σπίτι που έφτιαξε ο πατέρας της στο Χάμαρς. Όταν οι γονείς χώρισαν έμενε εκεί τα καλοκαίρια μαζί με τα μεγαλύτερα ετεροθαλή αδέρφια της. Ο Igmar Bergman είχε 9 παιδιά από 6 γυναίκες και η Linn ήταν η μικρότερη όλων.
Τα χρόνια περνούν με πολλά ταξίδια αφού ακολουθούσε τη μητέρα της όπου την οδηγούσαν οι επαγγελματικές της υποχρεώσεις. Μόνη σταθερά της τα καλοκαίρια της στο Χάμαρς και η ρουτίνα που είχε διαμορφώσει ο πατέρας της. Ένας πατέρας δάσκαλος, με μέτρο, πειθαρχία, πρόγραμμα, συνέπεια.
Όταν εκείνος ήταν πλέον πάνω από ογδόντα χρονών αποφάσισαν να γράψουν μαζί ένα βιβλίο για τα γηρατειά.
"ΑΥΤΟΣ Νομίζω ότι το να γερνάς είναι μια σκληρή, εξουθενωτική, άχαρη δουλειά με ατελείωτο ωράριο.
ΑΥΤΉ Ναι
ΑΥΤΟΣ Αλλά το είναι ουσιώδες... Τι είναι ουσιώδες!... "
Έτσι ξεκινά η καταγραφή των διαλόγων τους σε ψηφιακό μαγνητόφωνο. Οι συζητήσεις αυτές δεν ολοκληρώθηκε ποτέ. Ο χρόνος και η φθορά της υγείας του θα βάλουν τέλος στο όραμα τους. Το μαγνητόφωνο κάπου παράπεσε ώσπου επτά χρόνια μετά το θάνατο του πατέρα της ήρθε απρόσμενα στα χέρια της. Αυτό ήταν και το εφαλτήριο για τη συγγραφή αυτού του βιβλίου.
Ένα βιβλίο για τη ζωή, τα χρόνια που περνούν, τα γηρατειά, τις μνήμες που χάνονται όσο οι εμπειρίες συσσωρεύονται, μια σχέση αντιστρόφως ανάλογη.
Μνήμες δικές μας, μνήμες άλλων, φωτογραφίες, ημερολόγια, αφηγήσεις, στιγμιότυπα ζωής που μας προσδιορίζουν.
Είναι η σχέση μας με τον εαυτό μας και τους άλλους που καθορίζεται από τις μνήμες μας, από τα συναισθήματα που έχουν δημιουργηθεί. Ακόμα και όταν οι μνήμες ξεθωριάζουν ή σβήσουν, όσα είχαμε νιώσει παραμένουν εγγεγραμμένα στο υποσυνείδητο μας.
Ένα βιβλίο που θα συγκινήσει λίγο παραπάνω όσους είδαν τους αγαπημένους τους σταδιακά να τους χάνουν και να χάνονται από την άνοια / Alzheimer.
Ο Ερνστ Ίνγκμαρ Μπέργκμαν ήταν Σουηδός σκηνοθέτης και σεναριογράφος.
Απεβίωσε σαν σήμερα το 2007.
August 7, 2020
"You have to add common sense and a good deal of imagination," says Ullman's father in one of his own autobiographies when contemplating and discussing the process of memory and examining past events.
Ullman calls Unquiet a "novel", despite its real life subjects - including herself - for the reason quoted above. She grew up with separated parents and, from experience, I know how this can automatically lead to narratives that don't quite align, past events that are recalled with different tones, versions and emotions. So this is Ullman's endeavour to make sense of the different version of her own past, consolidated through her own memories and experiences.
Unquiet is a tribute to memory and the act of recollection. It manipulates traditional narrative structures and breaks the mould of regular storytelling conventions in order to replicate the way our memory works. This is as close to "stream of consciousness" writing that I have yet come in reading, and the style did take some getting used to.
But perseverance with Unquiet is rewarded with evocative language and a compelling - though often jumbled - narrative about childhood and growing up with separated parents who both also happen to be famous and highly in-demand. It is also about the role of women, and it is also about growing old and grief.
Unquiet is full of tender, heart-aching moments that are beautifully recalled - each one framed by text breaks that allow you to pause, reflect, immerse and digest, before moving on to the next memory.
Ullman calls Unquiet a "novel", despite its real life subjects - including herself - for the reason quoted above. She grew up with separated parents and, from experience, I know how this can automatically lead to narratives that don't quite align, past events that are recalled with different tones, versions and emotions. So this is Ullman's endeavour to make sense of the different version of her own past, consolidated through her own memories and experiences.
Unquiet is a tribute to memory and the act of recollection. It manipulates traditional narrative structures and breaks the mould of regular storytelling conventions in order to replicate the way our memory works. This is as close to "stream of consciousness" writing that I have yet come in reading, and the style did take some getting used to.
But perseverance with Unquiet is rewarded with evocative language and a compelling - though often jumbled - narrative about childhood and growing up with separated parents who both also happen to be famous and highly in-demand. It is also about the role of women, and it is also about growing old and grief.
Unquiet is full of tender, heart-aching moments that are beautifully recalled - each one framed by text breaks that allow you to pause, reflect, immerse and digest, before moving on to the next memory.
September 15, 2021
A novel/memoir hybrid told in fragments, Unquiet is a ruminative work on the narrator’s relationship with her legendary filmmaker/artist father, and her mother, a revered and iconic actress. Ullmann’s parents are Ingmar Bergman and Liv Ullmann. The narrator says explicitly in one fragment: “I’m trying to understand something about love here, and about my parents, and why solitude played such a significant role in their lives, and why they, more than anything in the whole world, were so afraid of being abandoned.” And in trying to understand her mysterious parents, and herself in relation to them, she also thinks about time passing, and the work of growing old and losing yourself in senility. I think I found this latter subject of the novel the most interesting, because I’m personally interested in old age, what life is like in your twilight years, when most of your life is behind you and you stop being able to look after yourself. I liked not loved this novel, but it did feel incredibly intimate though it maintained a form of detachment throughout. I like that style of address. It’s got riches, and the prose is soft, slow and clear. It ran a little long for me, but it was a smooth read. Ullmann is an artful writer, and the skillful construction of Unquiet was also a point of particular interest.
November 21, 2016
Tre utav fem kapitel var helt fantastiska. Men de två sista var närmast trista och drog ner betyget.
July 27, 2025
I reflected on the importance of place in terms of how we remember people when I was reading Linn Ullmann's meditative work of autofiction,
Unquiet
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Before I get to place (and grief), I will mention that it's impossible to sort memoir from fiction in Unquiet. The protagonist is the daughter of a renowned Swedish filmmaker, by the actress he directed and once loved. Each summer of her childhood, the daughter visits the father at his remote Fårö island home, where she spends time with him and her eight half-siblings (her father had five marriages, but never married the protaganist's mother).
Her father had particular routines and rules -
In real life, Ullmann is the daughter of famed Swedish director and screenwriter, Ingmar Bergman, and equally famous Norwegian actress and director, Liv Ullmann. Bergman's personal history and the details of major life events match what is in Unquiet. So... is the 'fiction' the recasting of conversations? A filling of gaps in a child's memory? The only clue comes toward the end of the book when Ullmann states that in order to write about real people '...it is necessary to make them fictional. I believe this is the only way of breathing life into them. To remember is to look around, again and again, equally astonished every time.' She goes on to say that she wanted to see what would happen if '...I allowed us to emerge in a book as though we didn't belong anywhere else.'
The story focuses on the protagonist, as an adult - a writer, with children of her own - visiting her elderly father. He's in his eighties, becoming frail and suffering memory loss. They decide to collaborate on a book about ageing - she asks the questions and records the answers. The project falters as her father's health deteriorates, and after a summer of working together he dies.
After his death a different book emerges - Unquiet - the daughter's story, and in this, she remembers her childhood.
Ullmann's observations about her father's last months of life are startling in their accuracy (specific to her father) and in their familiarity (to the universal experience of death). For example, her father was obsessive about punctuality. Of a meeting planned with him during their last summer, she writes - 'Death commenced when he arrived seventeen minutes late.'
Ullmann captures the 'ongoing task' of dying and says of those last few weeks with her father -
Despite her father's increasing confusion, he had '...made arrangements for dying', telling everyone around him, 'I will lie in my own bed, in my own house, looking across the stony shore, the gnarled pines, the sea, and the ever-shifting light...'. He planned his funeral in meticulous detail, it being the last performance he could 'direct'.
I am often asked why I do so much reading about grief. The answer is that I never tire of reading new words to capture a universal experience. In each of these final scenes with her father, Ullmann's writing about grief is exceptional.
I have never been to a remote island in the Baltic Sea, but Ullmann's writing took me there. Her descriptions of her summer days were beautifully immersive, and while I felt happily ensconced in her island world of brisk swims, movie screenings in a barn, and tearing around the bumpy roads in an old Jeep, I was also remembering my own childhood summers at McCrae, with my grandparents, where the days had a predictable rhythm.
And so to place. I mention my summers at McCrae - when the family fibro shack was sold, I was absolutely heartbroken and still feel that ache of grief. At the time, someone said to me, "It's just a house" and in the depths of my loss, I didn't have the clarity to say no, it's not 'just' a house - it was my connection to my dearly loved grandparents, it was every summer of my life, it was being surrounded by family. I felt more about that house than I did about the one I grew up in. It was my most significant lesson in ambiguous grief, and to this day, it takes little to prod that pain. Unquiet prodded that pain over and over but not in a way that made me want to stop reading - instead, it was like pressing a bruise - a reminder that something that happened in the past is still there.
I adored this book. I don't know who to recommend it to, short of saying it is one of the best pieces of writing about place, memory and grief that I've read.
4/5
Before I get to place (and grief), I will mention that it's impossible to sort memoir from fiction in Unquiet. The protagonist is the daughter of a renowned Swedish filmmaker, by the actress he directed and once loved. Each summer of her childhood, the daughter visits the father at his remote Fårö island home, where she spends time with him and her eight half-siblings (her father had five marriages, but never married the protaganist's mother).
The girl, like most children, enjoyed making lists and keeping count, and if anyone asked her about her father she could have said: My father has four houses, two cars, five wives, one swimming pool, nine children, and one cinema.
Her father had particular routines and rules -
The house was an extension of him. You were not allowed to move around in it as you liked, there were rules for everything, I would never, for example, have taken a glass of water from the kitchen into the living room. No one ever told me. No one said: You are not allowed to take a glass of water into the living room. It was something I knew... The long narrow house, lying stretched out with a view of the stony beach and Baltic Sea, maintained a chaste order whereby everyone who lived inside it, children and adults, saw to their work, watched the time, and avoided emotional hurly-burly. A small world sketched out and planned in advance.
In real life, Ullmann is the daughter of famed Swedish director and screenwriter, Ingmar Bergman, and equally famous Norwegian actress and director, Liv Ullmann. Bergman's personal history and the details of major life events match what is in Unquiet. So... is the 'fiction' the recasting of conversations? A filling of gaps in a child's memory? The only clue comes toward the end of the book when Ullmann states that in order to write about real people '...it is necessary to make them fictional. I believe this is the only way of breathing life into them. To remember is to look around, again and again, equally astonished every time.' She goes on to say that she wanted to see what would happen if '...I allowed us to emerge in a book as though we didn't belong anywhere else.'
The story focuses on the protagonist, as an adult - a writer, with children of her own - visiting her elderly father. He's in his eighties, becoming frail and suffering memory loss. They decide to collaborate on a book about ageing - she asks the questions and records the answers. The project falters as her father's health deteriorates, and after a summer of working together he dies.
When Papa died, I couldn't bring myself to listen to the tapes: the floundering, the slowness, the searching for words. And my voice like an overeager recorder player in the middle of the requiem.
After his death a different book emerges - Unquiet - the daughter's story, and in this, she remembers her childhood.
As a child, I was occasionally allowed to visit him in his study and sit in the big battered armchair in order for us to converse. He called it a sitting. I remember wishing the sittings would never end.
"Shall we have a sitting tomorrow, you and I," he'd say when I was a child, "around eleven if that suits you?"
"Okay."
Ullmann's observations about her father's last months of life are startling in their accuracy (specific to her father) and in their familiarity (to the universal experience of death). For example, her father was obsessive about punctuality. Of a meeting planned with him during their last summer, she writes - 'Death commenced when he arrived seventeen minutes late.'
Ullmann captures the 'ongoing task' of dying and says of those last few weeks with her father -
...he took a rapid turn for the worse. I don't know whether rapid turn is the right expression here. The choreography of aging is complex. An intricate combination of quick and slow.
Despite her father's increasing confusion, he had '...made arrangements for dying', telling everyone around him, 'I will lie in my own bed, in my own house, looking across the stony shore, the gnarled pines, the sea, and the ever-shifting light...'. He planned his funeral in meticulous detail, it being the last performance he could 'direct'.
I am often asked why I do so much reading about grief. The answer is that I never tire of reading new words to capture a universal experience. In each of these final scenes with her father, Ullmann's writing about grief is exceptional.
That summer everything was about dying, the work of dying, death leaning into life, life leaning into death, he would wake up in the morning and fall asleep at night, but died every day nonetheless. The heart was still beating, but the absence was overwhelming.
I have never been to a remote island in the Baltic Sea, but Ullmann's writing took me there. Her descriptions of her summer days were beautifully immersive, and while I felt happily ensconced in her island world of brisk swims, movie screenings in a barn, and tearing around the bumpy roads in an old Jeep, I was also remembering my own childhood summers at McCrae, with my grandparents, where the days had a predictable rhythm.
And so to place. I mention my summers at McCrae - when the family fibro shack was sold, I was absolutely heartbroken and still feel that ache of grief. At the time, someone said to me, "It's just a house" and in the depths of my loss, I didn't have the clarity to say no, it's not 'just' a house - it was my connection to my dearly loved grandparents, it was every summer of my life, it was being surrounded by family. I felt more about that house than I did about the one I grew up in. It was my most significant lesson in ambiguous grief, and to this day, it takes little to prod that pain. Unquiet prodded that pain over and over but not in a way that made me want to stop reading - instead, it was like pressing a bruise - a reminder that something that happened in the past is still there.
I adored this book. I don't know who to recommend it to, short of saying it is one of the best pieces of writing about place, memory and grief that I've read.
4/5
September 1, 2023
Se envelhecer tivesse um livro, seria este. Se este livro tivesse uma banda sonora, seria Bach. Celso Suite. Se as palavras fossem um instrumento, seria o violino Stradivarius.
Memórias condensadas em palavras cheias de vida. Parágrafos repletos do que deixamos congelados no passado e conversas sobre a beleza da vida.
Este livro foi uma viagem. Às minhas memórias através das deles. Relações entre pais e filhas, homens e mulheres, o Homem e a morte. O tempo que não tive com o meu pai. O que faltou fazer. Saberei envelhecer? Saberei aceitar quando restarem memórias?
Este livro tem melancolia. Apesar das despedidas, não deixa de ser bonito e belo.
Uma emocionante homenagem que a autora preservou do seu pai, Ingmar Bergman.
Gostei muito. Para quem gosta de livros de memórias, este foi um dos livros mais vendidos na Escandinávia, é considerado um clássico moderno na Noruega. Traduzido pelo maravilhoso João Reis.
Memórias condensadas em palavras cheias de vida. Parágrafos repletos do que deixamos congelados no passado e conversas sobre a beleza da vida.
Este livro foi uma viagem. Às minhas memórias através das deles. Relações entre pais e filhas, homens e mulheres, o Homem e a morte. O tempo que não tive com o meu pai. O que faltou fazer. Saberei envelhecer? Saberei aceitar quando restarem memórias?
Este livro tem melancolia. Apesar das despedidas, não deixa de ser bonito e belo.
Uma emocionante homenagem que a autora preservou do seu pai, Ingmar Bergman.
Gostei muito. Para quem gosta de livros de memórias, este foi um dos livros mais vendidos na Escandinávia, é considerado um clássico moderno na Noruega. Traduzido pelo maravilhoso João Reis.
July 25, 2024
Gostei de tudo no geral. Este livro é bom. A escritora é boa. Mas não adorei. Faltou-me qualquer coisa. Não me senti conectada com esta história, fiquei com a sensação de que algumas coisas ficaram por explicar mas, incoerentemente, gostei que algumas coisas não fossem contadas explicitamente, ou seja, uma ou duas frases de um diálogo diziam tanto sobre um divórcio, ou sobre uma educação, ou sobre um amor, ou sobre a velhice… Não imergi na história como me costuma acontecer, senti que estava a observar apenas de longe. Ainda assim acho que é um leitura que vale a pena. Estava sempre a querer saber mais sobre a vida da autora e sobre os peculiares pais. Foi o primeiro livro que li sobre a chegada à velhice debilitante, sobre a perda de memória que tristemente nos acontece quando temos talvez a sorte de viver tantos anos. O fim da vida dá muito trabalho. A vida com filhos também, principalmente para quem quer ser livre.
November 14, 2025
Rett og slett en skikkelig god bok med mye mellom linjene. Også en død svensk pappa ❤️
November 16, 2023
Zorlanarak okuduğum bir kitap oldu. Açıkçası Linn Ullman’ın yazar olarak vasfı nedir anlayamadım. Çok ünlü bir annenin ve babanın çocuğu olarak yazmasa bu kitabı ne kadar okunurdu, o da çok tartışılır. İşlevsiz ailelerse mesele çok çok daha iyi eserler var, anne kız ilişkisizliği ise yine aynı şekilde… entelektüel bir aileden gelmenin verdiği bazı kitaplara, şarkılara, filmlere nokta atışı atıfların dışında oldukça yetersiz bulduğum bir kitap oldu. Devamı çevrilirse de okumayı düşünmüyorum. 2/5
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