Elf jaar

Elleve år og Tolv år #1

by Sigrid Undset

The Longest Years is a vivid rendering of childhood memories into an autobiographical novel. The young Norwegian girl Ingvild conveys the cornucopia of original the sights, sounds, and smells; the beginnings of thought and the acute pangs of suffering; and the pure privilege of innocence. Avoiding altogether any attempt to modify or interpret the memories of Ingvild, Undset sets forth the organic sprawling verity of a child’s world and its rootedness in what Hopkins called the “dearest freshness deep down things.”

375 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1934

About the author

Sigrid Undset was a Norwegian novelist whose powerful, psychologically rich works made her one of the most significant literary figures of the 20th century. Best known for her medieval sagas Kristin Lavransdatter and The Master of Hestviken, she was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1928 for her vivid portrayals of life in the Middle Ages, written with remarkable historical detail and emotional depth.

Born in Denmark to Norwegian parents, Undset spent most of her life in Norway. After her father's early death, she had to forgo formal education and worked as a secretary while writing in her spare time. Her debut novel Fru Marta Oulie (1907) shocked readers with its opening confession of adultery and established her bold, realist style. In early works like ,i>Jenny (1911), she explored modern women's struggles with love, freedom, and morality, often critiquing romantic idealism and social expectations.

Though she gained recognition for her contemporary novels, Undset felt increasingly drawn to historical fiction. This shift led to her masterwork Kristin Lavransdatter, a trilogy published from 1920 to 1922, which follows the life of a woman in 14th-century Norway as she navigates love, faith, motherhood, and spiritual growth. With its intricate character development and deep moral themes, the trilogy brought her international acclaim and remains a cornerstone of Scandinavian literature.

In 1924, Undset converted to Roman Catholicism, a profound personal decision that shaped her later writing. Her tetralogy,i>The Master of Hestviken (1925–1927) centers on a man burdened by unconfessed guilt, offering a deeply spiritual and psychological portrait of sin and redemption. Her Catholic faith and concern with ethical questions became central to her work and public life.

A vocal critic of both communism and fascism, Undset fled Norway after the Nazi invasion in 1940. Her books were banned by the occupying regime, and she lived in exile in the United States during the war, advocating for Norway and the Allied cause. The loss of her son in the war deeply affected her, and although she returned home after the war, she published little in her final years.

Undset’s legacy rests not only on her historical novels but also on her fearless exploration of conscience, duty, and the human condition. Her characters—especially her women—are fully realized, flawed, and emotionally complex. Her writing combines psychological insight with stylistic clarity and spiritual depth, making her work enduringly relevant and widely read.

Reviews

[Father Nick · Rating 4 out of 5]

Cluny Media has been republishing out of print books from many Catholic authors, and I've been particularly interested in the contemporary novels of Sigrid Undset. As a Catholic school pastor undertaking a revision of curriculum and methods into a more classical, traditional style, I thought this book would provide an imaginative foray into the developmental stages of a child's soul. I was not disappointed.
Undset tells a tale of a the earliest memories of a young Norwegian girl, Ingvild. I found it strange, even somewhat eerie to re-enter my own earliest memories, when the world and oneself was utterly new and full of things that were fascinating simply for being. In Undset's tale, which I presume is mostly autobiographical, there are charming scenes of visits to the seaside or making visits to a neighbor's home, and all the details that a child notices about those experiences. It is easy to forget one's own childlike tastes. There are moments of her sense of morality coming alive, nourished first by the fairy tales and histories her parents read to her, then coming to understand that she herself has choices to make that touch upon right and wrong rather than just good manners. The contrary spirit she takes to the didactic tone of her school is well told, relating it to the skepticism that prevails in her home, her parents being something of freethinkers. But the parts I enjoyed the most were the ones in which Ingvild is grappling with some fundamental reality--betrayal, wrongdoing, death--and the grownups make rather superficial assumptions about what is behind the emotion they recognize on the child's face. Undset captures the distress that accompanies these aching times of transformation that the adults misunderstand or fail to perceive, for Ingvild can't explain herself. She lacks the means to evoke them, and the shared experience to touch upon that would make her explanaitions meaningful; she receives all this as an unspeakable reality. For instance, at the time of her grandfather's death and burial, Ingvild has a vivid sense of the inevitability of everyone's death, and the inability of anyone to really respond with any compassion to the solitary experience of dying:

These ideas were only half thought out, but the images which continued to form within her were so strong that she began to cry again each time she hoped to have finished with it and thought she would have peace to forget the whole subject and turn to something more pleasant. She sat at the dining room window, looking out on the black roof—wishing she could have gone out and found something to distract her mind. But it was no use, she was obliged to sit there, oppressed by what she now divined for the first time—that the sympathy one human being can give another is mixed up with sentimentality and self-gratification to such an extent as to make one loathe oneself—and then one makes the loathing an excuse for being unfeeling, and imagines that inhumanity is better than human frailty.
“Were you really so fond of grandfather, Ingvild?” her mother asked very gently, stroking her hair. “Yes,” Ingvild replied with sincerity, though she knew that her tears were in great part due to what she could not possibly explain, so it was no use saying anything about it. “Yes, he was indeed a good man,” said her mother. “But you know how ill he was—and for so long. It was a happy release.” And so it was—that was just what made it so difficult and painful.

Many such moments, both happy and sorrowful, litter the narrative and fill it with the "felt life" that makes this wonderful literature. So, too, they gave me a very tangible appreciation for the breadth of feeling present in a child's soul, that nonetheless remains unexpressed.
It is an entirely undramatic book, very little happens, but it conveys by means of an attentive eye and patient practice of the art of description the fulness of the common and unremarkable earliest years of life--this easily overlooked drama of a young soul being stamped with the impressions that will shape the years of life to come.

[Klissia]

To have the talent and the time to write about her own childhood, Undset have it all,the golden years. Until days ago I didn't not knew about the existence of this book ,so I was avid to read her autofiction, so unexpected ,after read almost all her famous, grandiose and tragic stories set in medieval Norway.
A theme that maybe its not everyone cup of tea nowadays : children,their imagination ,their point of view about the adults, in rich colours and words by Sigrid Undset. A very descriptive and slow pace,like Undset other books but still very pleasant to read about her interesting parents and education,how much they influenced her future writings.
Their background, her dad a archeologist,her mother: a translator,gave her acess a a world of culture and literature in an early age, but still a children with a lot of energy,to run in the fields,have fun times with other kids. A childhood almost extinct for some, made me so nostalgic.
A clair contrast between her parents and their other extended family,so serious, religious, limited in afection/culture, the duality that we see in her works . Not enthralling like her masterpieces but still vivid and well written.

[Lizzy · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars

A really beautiful contemplation on the inner mind of children (especially interesting when thinking about this as Undset's reflections on her own childhood). However, I did find it on the slower side at times. At one point, my husband was reading another Undset book (Burning Bush - which I have previously read) next to me, and I kept finding myself reading over his shoulder rather than turning to The Longest Years. I think this book is beautifully written, however, and the perceived slowness may have just been due to personal preference.

[Zidanie5 · Rating 4 out of 5]

Potrebbe essere difficile trovare quest'edizione del 1947, ma ne vale la pena. A tutti gli effetti un'autobiografia della Undset, appena appena velata. Rende benissimo le atmosfere e le sensazioni che può vivere una bambina norvegese/danese all'inizio del secolo, tra famiglia, letteratura, strade e giochi tra bambini. Parte dai primissimi ricordi sfocati, fino appunto agli undici anni. Tra l'altro quest'unica traduzione italiana dell'opera è molto ben fatta, non suona affatto datata.

[Millimani · Rating 4 out of 5]

Undsets forhold til faren sin er alt for likt mitt til pappa, så gråt som en jævel mot slutten. Faen.