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The definitive new translation of the masterwork of Scandinavia's most beloved author is now complete. Kristin Lavransdatter is a story of love, loyalty & betrayal, set against a richly detailed historical backdrop of 14th-century Norway. The Cross finds Kristin returning with her husband, Erlend, & their sons to her childhood home, Jorundgaard. As the boys age, Kristin is increasingly worried about their prospects, & she & Erlend become estranged. The most devastatingly emotional volume in the trilogy, The Cross chronicles the trials & losses Kristin must bear.
Translated from the Norwegian with Notes by Tiina Nunnally & introduction by Sherrill Harbison.
Translated from the Norwegian with Notes by Tiina Nunnally & introduction by Sherrill Harbison.
505 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1922
About the author
Sigrid Undset
338 books930 followersSigrid 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.
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.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 467 reviews
September 8, 2019
Two years ago, I was on a panel where I was asked what my 'heart book' was. I really hate that term but I remembered how deeply touched I was many years ago as a young mother by reading Kristin Lavransdatter and so I said it was my 'heart book.' I got some push back from some people after saying that so I decided to reread it using the newer translation in audio while following along in my older physical book.
I am utterly speechless at the power and beauty of this last volume. No other book has every touched me this way. Of course, Kristin had 8 sons and so do I. Every single one of her thoughts and fears felt like they were ripped out of my own heart. The utter difficulty of reaching your children with the great love (and all the fears) you have for them without sweeping them away with your emotions seeps out of paragraph after paragraph and so in the end a mother must release her children and step away while still encouraging them and helping them.
I listened to most of the ending of the book on the way to church this morning and I was too wrecked to really tune into the service. Truly, I can say that this book has touched me like no other book ever has and I am unable to write the words that would praise this book enough.
I am utterly speechless at the power and beauty of this last volume. No other book has every touched me this way. Of course, Kristin had 8 sons and so do I. Every single one of her thoughts and fears felt like they were ripped out of my own heart. The utter difficulty of reaching your children with the great love (and all the fears) you have for them without sweeping them away with your emotions seeps out of paragraph after paragraph and so in the end a mother must release her children and step away while still encouraging them and helping them.
I listened to most of the ending of the book on the way to church this morning and I was too wrecked to really tune into the service. Truly, I can say that this book has touched me like no other book ever has and I am unable to write the words that would praise this book enough.
August 17, 2020
With The Cross, I have now completed the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy of Sigrid Undset, and my reaction to the end of this book was to want to pick up book one and start all over again. What an amazing story this turned out to be. By the time I reached the final section of this installment, I felt I knew Kristen intimately. Along the way, I fell in love with her father, Lavrens; her jilted lover, Simon; her reckless and charming husband, Erlend; several of her sons, a couple of priests, and numerous smaller characters.
This is a book about self-realization, about relationships and how they shape us, and about our relationship with God and how He carries and sustains us.
Then had it been the burden of her burning prayer, that might this poor, unhappy child but be made whole in body and in wits, she would crave for naught more...She thought of Gaute, sitting his great iron-grey, a brave and goodly horseman. And she herself--not many women of her age night to half a hundred years, were blessed with such health; she had marked it well on her journey across the mountains. Lord, give me but this and this and this--then will I thank Thee and crave no more than this and this and this--
Never, it seemed to her, had she prayed to God for aught else than that He might grant her her own will. And she had got always what she wished--most. And now she sat here with a bruised spirit--not because she had sinned against God, but because she was miscontent that it had been granted her to follow the devices of her own heart to the journey’s end.
How many of us are guilty of this? Always wanting our own way, always promising God not to ask any other boon if he grants us this one.
These books are religious in the finest kind of way, because they explore the spiritual side of man and his need for God and because, in this historical context, they are perfectly accurate. There was law and religious law, both imposed on the people and often completely overlapping, religious leaders sitting in judgement of both civil and moral trespasses.
Think you, woman, child that you still are in your old age, that ‘tis God punishing for the sin, when you must reap sorrow and humiliation because you followed your lusts and your overweening pride over paths that God has forbidden His children to tread? Would you say that you had punished your children if they scalded their hands when they took up the boiling kettle you had forbidden them to touch, or if the slippery ice broke under them that you had warned them not to go upon? Have you not understood, when the brittle ice broke beneath you--that you were drawn under each time you let go of God’s hand, and you were saved from out the deep each time you called on Him?
This tale of Kristen’s stepping on the ice and being saved time and again, is one of the most gripping I have ever encountered. If you don’t mind a book that breaks your heart to the extent that you have to take breaks to wash away the tears, this might be a book for you.
This is a book about self-realization, about relationships and how they shape us, and about our relationship with God and how He carries and sustains us.
Then had it been the burden of her burning prayer, that might this poor, unhappy child but be made whole in body and in wits, she would crave for naught more...She thought of Gaute, sitting his great iron-grey, a brave and goodly horseman. And she herself--not many women of her age night to half a hundred years, were blessed with such health; she had marked it well on her journey across the mountains. Lord, give me but this and this and this--then will I thank Thee and crave no more than this and this and this--
Never, it seemed to her, had she prayed to God for aught else than that He might grant her her own will. And she had got always what she wished--most. And now she sat here with a bruised spirit--not because she had sinned against God, but because she was miscontent that it had been granted her to follow the devices of her own heart to the journey’s end.
How many of us are guilty of this? Always wanting our own way, always promising God not to ask any other boon if he grants us this one.
These books are religious in the finest kind of way, because they explore the spiritual side of man and his need for God and because, in this historical context, they are perfectly accurate. There was law and religious law, both imposed on the people and often completely overlapping, religious leaders sitting in judgement of both civil and moral trespasses.
Think you, woman, child that you still are in your old age, that ‘tis God punishing for the sin, when you must reap sorrow and humiliation because you followed your lusts and your overweening pride over paths that God has forbidden His children to tread? Would you say that you had punished your children if they scalded their hands when they took up the boiling kettle you had forbidden them to touch, or if the slippery ice broke under them that you had warned them not to go upon? Have you not understood, when the brittle ice broke beneath you--that you were drawn under each time you let go of God’s hand, and you were saved from out the deep each time you called on Him?
This tale of Kristen’s stepping on the ice and being saved time and again, is one of the most gripping I have ever encountered. If you don’t mind a book that breaks your heart to the extent that you have to take breaks to wash away the tears, this might be a book for you.
April 15, 2021
“True, toil and struggle had been hers every hour since she rode, a bride, into Erlend Nikulaussön’s manor--and saw that here one at least must fight to save the heritage of him she bore below her heart.”
When I started this saga, I thought it would be about the difficulty of the hard work required in the olden times of the 14th century. It is that, but I found it to be even more about the difficulty of decisions, like the kind we still face today. As Kristin matures, her problems mature, and as with each of us as we age, they seem to get harder. How do we honor our parents? support our spouse? raise our children? repay our friends? We struggle to follow our religion, respect those we disagree with, avoid hurting those we love. We fail. And we deal with that failure.
Kristin’s struggles, though specifically very different than mine, feel so real and relatable. Adored spouses infuriate, family members become estranged, cherished hopes are not realized.
Yet the story celebrates the precious gifts all around us, through and in spite of these struggles. Eventually Kristin finds the beauty in her flawed loved ones, and in the hard country where she makes a home.
This third book may not be as interesting to the young reader. Life builds in the first two parts, but in this one there is a natural diminishing. It might be depressing for those who haven’t yet experienced the undeniable truth of this fact of life.
“Kristin sat with her little grandson in her lap, and thought, easy ‘twoud scarce be for her either at the one or the other place. ‘Twas a hard matter, growing old. So lately, it seemed, ‘twas she herself who was the young woman--then it was about her fate that the men’s strife and counsels tossed. Now she had drifted into a backwater.”
I have spread the three parts of the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy over a period of five years now. I read very old library copies of all three books--1920’s translations by Charles Archer. His choice to include archaic phrases made for difficult reading at times, but I enjoyed the feel of them.
What I’d like to do now is find a newer translation, perhaps with extensive footnotes, and read it straight through. Maybe tackle some Norwegian history first. What can I say? There are a very few works of literature which promise a payback for the devotion of extensive time and energy. This is one.
When I started this saga, I thought it would be about the difficulty of the hard work required in the olden times of the 14th century. It is that, but I found it to be even more about the difficulty of decisions, like the kind we still face today. As Kristin matures, her problems mature, and as with each of us as we age, they seem to get harder. How do we honor our parents? support our spouse? raise our children? repay our friends? We struggle to follow our religion, respect those we disagree with, avoid hurting those we love. We fail. And we deal with that failure.
Kristin’s struggles, though specifically very different than mine, feel so real and relatable. Adored spouses infuriate, family members become estranged, cherished hopes are not realized.
Yet the story celebrates the precious gifts all around us, through and in spite of these struggles. Eventually Kristin finds the beauty in her flawed loved ones, and in the hard country where she makes a home.
This third book may not be as interesting to the young reader. Life builds in the first two parts, but in this one there is a natural diminishing. It might be depressing for those who haven’t yet experienced the undeniable truth of this fact of life.
“Kristin sat with her little grandson in her lap, and thought, easy ‘twoud scarce be for her either at the one or the other place. ‘Twas a hard matter, growing old. So lately, it seemed, ‘twas she herself who was the young woman--then it was about her fate that the men’s strife and counsels tossed. Now she had drifted into a backwater.”
I have spread the three parts of the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy over a period of five years now. I read very old library copies of all three books--1920’s translations by Charles Archer. His choice to include archaic phrases made for difficult reading at times, but I enjoyed the feel of them.
What I’d like to do now is find a newer translation, perhaps with extensive footnotes, and read it straight through. Maybe tackle some Norwegian history first. What can I say? There are a very few works of literature which promise a payback for the devotion of extensive time and energy. This is one.
September 9, 2008
Individually and even more so when taken as a whole, the Kristen Lavransdatter novels are breathtaking. The scope of the novels is unreal; by the end, I felt like I knew this woman inside and out even though she never stopped being a mystery to me. The author follows her life from late childhood to death in sometimes overwhelming detail. The writing is weighty and challenging; Undset dives into her time period flawlessly and doesn't wait for the reader to catch up. It's hugely rewarding in a way that beach lit can't even touch.
Through 1000+ pages I never really understood Kristen's devotion to Erlend, but I believed it completely. She hated him only a fraction less than she loved him, and it was a fascinating, if painful, thing to experience. I constantly ached for the ability to shake him until his head rattled; he poisoned everything and everyone around him.
Kristen's sons in turns left me cold and broke my heart. I loved Naakve for his name and poor Orm, the stepson, best of all. But I felt like there were so many children, it was hard to feel for them all; interestingly, I think this may have been on purpose since the author implies Kristen lost track of a few of them as well.
The most sympathetic character of the novels is undoubtedly Simon Darre. I was wrecked by Simon and he really develops into something wonderful in the final book. Of course you know that he's always loved Kristen, but the admitting of it is so horrible to watch. And Ramborg's quiet, seething envy and bitterness toward Kristen is heartbreaking. The Simon/Kristen/Ramborg triangle was definitely my favorite of the many, many story arcs.
Finally, I have to mention the religious thing. I was in awe of the way Undset captures the aura of Catholicism of the 13th century. It's on nearly every page, but it's seamless and fascinating; this aspect of the story alone is enough to distance it from modern life in a very fundamental way. It was so interesting to see the play between strict, practically-felt medieval Christian ideals expressed in the novels and the actual lives of the people she portrays.
So, if you didn't get it yet, I'm highly recommending this series. It's well worth the extra effort and time. Also, I understand that this translation by Tina Nunnally is much better and smoother than some previous efforts, so I am also recommending this edition in particular. Plus I think the covers are very pretty. Read these books!!
Through 1000+ pages I never really understood Kristen's devotion to Erlend, but I believed it completely. She hated him only a fraction less than she loved him, and it was a fascinating, if painful, thing to experience. I constantly ached for the ability to shake him until his head rattled; he poisoned everything and everyone around him.
Kristen's sons in turns left me cold and broke my heart. I loved Naakve for his name and poor Orm, the stepson, best of all. But I felt like there were so many children, it was hard to feel for them all; interestingly, I think this may have been on purpose since the author implies Kristen lost track of a few of them as well.
The most sympathetic character of the novels is undoubtedly Simon Darre. I was wrecked by Simon and he really develops into something wonderful in the final book. Of course you know that he's always loved Kristen, but the admitting of it is so horrible to watch. And Ramborg's quiet, seething envy and bitterness toward Kristen is heartbreaking. The Simon/Kristen/Ramborg triangle was definitely my favorite of the many, many story arcs.
Finally, I have to mention the religious thing. I was in awe of the way Undset captures the aura of Catholicism of the 13th century. It's on nearly every page, but it's seamless and fascinating; this aspect of the story alone is enough to distance it from modern life in a very fundamental way. It was so interesting to see the play between strict, practically-felt medieval Christian ideals expressed in the novels and the actual lives of the people she portrays.
So, if you didn't get it yet, I'm highly recommending this series. It's well worth the extra effort and time. Also, I understand that this translation by Tina Nunnally is much better and smoother than some previous efforts, so I am also recommending this edition in particular. Plus I think the covers are very pretty. Read these books!!
May 30, 2016
The final volume of the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy is perhaps the best of the three. Judging by the titles and cover images, I had guessed that Kristin would spend this book as a widowed nun and that the book would be mostly about her grieving and repenting her sins. Fortunately, that’s a long way from the truth – the plot picks up again after the slower and more contemplative second volume, balancing its detailed portrayal of medieval life with plenty of juicy drama.
But the heart of the story is Kristin’s struggle for fulfillment in her role as wife and mother. As a modern reader, it can be easy to get frustrated with Kristin’s silent resentment of Erlend – you want her to either deal with the problems in the marriage or move on. But of course, she can’t move on and without the possibility of divorce as an escape valve, I wonder if addressing the problems with Erlend head-on might be too dangerous; if they can’t successfully resolve them, then bringing them into the open might only make their home life less tolerable. At any rate, their relationship continues to be as messy and destructive as ever. Meanwhile, in the shadow of their parents’ tumultuous marriage, their sons are growing into young men, and Kristin’s influence in their lives is on the wane, to her distress.
Others have found this volume depressing, and yes, it’s a bit melancholy. The ending is a sad one, though appropriate, and artistically (and historically) sound. But I enjoyed reading it nonetheless; the prose had a calming effect, as I was absorbed into the lives of Undset’s three-dimensional characters and the richness of their world. Having finished, I’m sorry it’s over.
But the heart of the story is Kristin’s struggle for fulfillment in her role as wife and mother. As a modern reader, it can be easy to get frustrated with Kristin’s silent resentment of Erlend – you want her to either deal with the problems in the marriage or move on. But of course, she can’t move on and without the possibility of divorce as an escape valve, I wonder if addressing the problems with Erlend head-on might be too dangerous; if they can’t successfully resolve them, then bringing them into the open might only make their home life less tolerable. At any rate, their relationship continues to be as messy and destructive as ever. Meanwhile, in the shadow of their parents’ tumultuous marriage, their sons are growing into young men, and Kristin’s influence in their lives is on the wane, to her distress.
Others have found this volume depressing, and yes, it’s a bit melancholy. The ending is a sad one, though appropriate, and artistically (and historically) sound. But I enjoyed reading it nonetheless; the prose had a calming effect, as I was absorbed into the lives of Undset’s three-dimensional characters and the richness of their world. Having finished, I’m sorry it’s over.
August 26, 2016
This is the third book of the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy. Here are links to my reviews of the previous two books,
The Wreath
and
The Wife
. This book covers the final third of Kristin's life (circa 1299-1350).
The final years of anyone's life is full of endings, separations and goodbyes. The same was true for Kristin. First she is separated from her younger sister due to an insult given between their husbands. Then when her brother-in-law dies her sister quickly remarries and moves to a distant estate. Then a disagreement with her husband caused him to live separately from her. He is killed when he returns to respond to a rumored scandal. Then her seven sons disperse, get married, or join a monastery. In the end she feels unwanted at her home estate and joins a convent.
The story ends with her showing bravery and strong Christian faith in the face of The Black Plague. In the end she clearly deserves to be honored as a saint—if she weren't a fictional character.
Sigrid Undset won the 1928 Nobel Prize in Literature largely because of the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy. The trilogy provides a well written portrayal of 14th century Norway.
The following is a quotation from this book that demonstrates the ability of Undset (the author) to describe internal human thoughts and emotion. It is Kristin anticipating the fact that her sons are approaching adulthood and will soon be leaving her care. These are feelings with which most parents can identify.
The final years of anyone's life is full of endings, separations and goodbyes. The same was true for Kristin. First she is separated from her younger sister due to an insult given between their husbands. Then when her brother-in-law dies her sister quickly remarries and moves to a distant estate. Then a disagreement with her husband caused him to live separately from her. He is killed when he returns to respond to a rumored scandal. Then her seven sons disperse, get married, or join a monastery. In the end she feels unwanted at her home estate and joins a convent.
The story ends with her showing bravery and strong Christian faith in the face of The Black Plague. In the end she clearly deserves to be honored as a saint—if she weren't a fictional character.
Sigrid Undset won the 1928 Nobel Prize in Literature largely because of the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy. The trilogy provides a well written portrayal of 14th century Norway.
The following is a quotation from this book that demonstrates the ability of Undset (the author) to describe internal human thoughts and emotion. It is Kristin anticipating the fact that her sons are approaching adulthood and will soon be leaving her care. These are feelings with which most parents can identify.
Was this how she would see her struggle end? Had she conceived in her womb a flock of restless fledgling hawks that simply lay in her nest, waiting impatiently for the hour when their wings were strong enough to carry them beyond the most distant blue peaks? And their father would clap his hands and laugh: Fly, fly, my young birds.
They would take with them bloody threads from the roots of her heart when they flew off, and they wouldn't even know it. She would be left behind alone, and all the heartstrings, which had once bound her to this old home of hers, she had already sundered. That was how it would end, and she would be neither alive nor dead.
April 4, 2023
Lent 2023 read. The ending absolutely tore my heart out. 😭😭😭 Kristin’s death is so intense and so sad, especially after learning that her two oldest sons are dead. I love that Ulf shows up at the end. So did he love Kristin too? Everyone loves Kristin! 😆 What is it about her? This trilogy is so intense and immersive that it took all my wits to stay up with the basic plot. The setting of 14th century Norway is so vastly different. It’s so intensely Catholic, so driven by honour, and these big networks of families (kinsmen, etc). Though I have rated all three volumes five stars, I have a feeling my imagination isn’t robust enough yet to meet the demands of the majestic storytelling and the rich symbolism that is deeply imbedded in this Catholic novel. Even the deaths at the end are so much more a Catholic way to end a novel. I’m thinking of Graham Greene with Sarah’s death and the whiskey priest’s death.
The most compelling plot line to me (since I’m not a mother) was the love triangle between Simon, Erlend, and Kristin and then the complex relationship between Kristin and Erlend. It’s done so brilliantly. Love triangle makes it sound trite but it’s not at all. It’s richly and poignantly explored. I can’t even begin to articulate it. I love Simon as a character. ❤️
I did find Kristin’s grown up sons interesting and how they find their places in the world with such a strange childhood and such parents. I thought Naakve was the most interesting, though I’m not sure quite why. Perhaps because we get the most of his struggles. We get a lot of Gaute’s too but he wasn’t as interesting to me for some reason. I would have liked more time with Lavrans. I find it fascinating that two of Kristin’s grandchildren are named Erlend. That shows how much of an effect Erlend had on his sons though he seemed to be a strange kind of parent.
I love that Kristin is known for her nursing and her herbal remedies and how that plays into her mothering role. For example, she spends so much time with her fellow pilgrim’s daughter when she first arrives in Nidaros. I have to think that that child’s life has been touched by her proximity to Kristin.
I love that we know there is a Kristin Gautesdatter in the world. May she have the same depth and sensitivity as her grandmother.
The most compelling plot line to me (since I’m not a mother) was the love triangle between Simon, Erlend, and Kristin and then the complex relationship between Kristin and Erlend. It’s done so brilliantly. Love triangle makes it sound trite but it’s not at all. It’s richly and poignantly explored. I can’t even begin to articulate it. I love Simon as a character. ❤️
I did find Kristin’s grown up sons interesting and how they find their places in the world with such a strange childhood and such parents. I thought Naakve was the most interesting, though I’m not sure quite why. Perhaps because we get the most of his struggles. We get a lot of Gaute’s too but he wasn’t as interesting to me for some reason. I would have liked more time with Lavrans. I find it fascinating that two of Kristin’s grandchildren are named Erlend. That shows how much of an effect Erlend had on his sons though he seemed to be a strange kind of parent.
I love that Kristin is known for her nursing and her herbal remedies and how that plays into her mothering role. For example, she spends so much time with her fellow pilgrim’s daughter when she first arrives in Nidaros. I have to think that that child’s life has been touched by her proximity to Kristin.
I love that we know there is a Kristin Gautesdatter in the world. May she have the same depth and sensitivity as her grandmother.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
December 6, 2023
The final novel in the Kristin Lavransdatter series held even more complexity and ethical questions than the first two. I loved the final portion of the novel, right up to its mournful ending. Undset does not play around with her historical context, let me tell you!
At some points, I felt Kristin connecting with another literary character--Mrs. Bennet. Though their stories (and personalities) are extremely different, at the same time, the two women find themselves married to men who do little to support their offsprings' futures, and as mothers they must shift alone, ridiculed by the world while their headstrong children make mistakes. And that's where the similarities end. Mr. Bennet does lift a finger here and there, and Pride and Prejudice ends neatly and happily. The seven sons of Erlend and Kristin, on the other hand, go their own ways.
I felt for the character of Kristin even more than I had been in the first two books. She suffered so much while growing so strong, and yet she was outcast by society because of choices she did not make. There are so many layers there. If I was picking one volume of this series to analyze, I'd pick this one. You can trace the effects of Kristin's choices (and the ways in which she was manipulated) to the very end. I also liked how Undset explored heredity, and the capacity of mothers to take the blame for the sins of their children.
I would definitely revisit this series in the future, after reading more by Undset. I love her characterizations, vivid sense of place and time, and the way she explores religion in this series. These books have been on my list for nearly a decade and I had three or four false starts. I am glad I stuck with it this time and finally summited this Norwegian mountain.
At some points, I felt Kristin connecting with another literary character--Mrs. Bennet. Though their stories (and personalities) are extremely different, at the same time, the two women find themselves married to men who do little to support their offsprings' futures, and as mothers they must shift alone, ridiculed by the world while their headstrong children make mistakes. And that's where the similarities end. Mr. Bennet does lift a finger here and there, and Pride and Prejudice ends neatly and happily. The seven sons of Erlend and Kristin, on the other hand, go their own ways.
I felt for the character of Kristin even more than I had been in the first two books. She suffered so much while growing so strong, and yet she was outcast by society because of choices she did not make. There are so many layers there. If I was picking one volume of this series to analyze, I'd pick this one. You can trace the effects of Kristin's choices (and the ways in which she was manipulated) to the very end. I also liked how Undset explored heredity, and the capacity of mothers to take the blame for the sins of their children.
I would definitely revisit this series in the future, after reading more by Undset. I love her characterizations, vivid sense of place and time, and the way she explores religion in this series. These books have been on my list for nearly a decade and I had three or four false starts. I am glad I stuck with it this time and finally summited this Norwegian mountain.
March 18, 2025
The best hardest book to read. I don't know how Sigrid Undset does it, but she makes you love all the flawed characters. They mess up — their contrition is sometimes overmuch, sometimes insufficient. I ached over Kristin's sorrows regarding her husband and sons, while wanting to shake her for her pious stubborn hard-heartedness, her pride in not verbally reproaching her husband as her body spoke the reproaches silently.
She wished she could forget her sorrows and be gentle and grateful, fearing and loving God as her father had done. She remembered her father had said that the person who recalls his sins with a humble spirit and bows before the cross of the Lord need never bow his head beneath any earthly unhappiness or injustice.
Sigrid Undset's nature writing is a little-noted aspect of these books. Clouds, grass, rivers, forests are bits of the mosaic of medieval life that Undset crafts. And these sections bring calm and beauty. I wish the younger me had started a notebook solely devoted to descriptions of milking a cow. Kristin's time in the cowshed would be included.
Another tiny delight was Kristin remembering her father's vast knowledge of every patch of his land. It dovetailed with Joel Salatin's and Wendell Berry's vision.
The whole epic ends with a meal shared by the priest and a family relative. I think a meal is the best way to end a book. (That could be another dedicated journal: Stories That End in Meals!) It's a type of communion.
She wished she could forget her sorrows and be gentle and grateful, fearing and loving God as her father had done. She remembered her father had said that the person who recalls his sins with a humble spirit and bows before the cross of the Lord need never bow his head beneath any earthly unhappiness or injustice.
Sigrid Undset's nature writing is a little-noted aspect of these books. Clouds, grass, rivers, forests are bits of the mosaic of medieval life that Undset crafts. And these sections bring calm and beauty. I wish the younger me had started a notebook solely devoted to descriptions of milking a cow. Kristin's time in the cowshed would be included.
Another tiny delight was Kristin remembering her father's vast knowledge of every patch of his land. It dovetailed with Joel Salatin's and Wendell Berry's vision.
The whole epic ends with a meal shared by the priest and a family relative. I think a meal is the best way to end a book. (That could be another dedicated journal: Stories That End in Meals!) It's a type of communion.
Read
February 7, 2017I'm just gonna crawl in a hole now and cry for several hours about this beautifully tragic story.
April 20, 2024
Others have said this is a novel of goodbyes, of closings and shutting down, and that is true. Kristen's life is winding down, and in this third book she is gradually bereft of every human relationship she once valued, from husband and sister to friend and sons. Alone, she turns to God, who remains with her. Central message of the series is delivered in that sentence. While I understand the popularity and the literary value of this series of novels, I cannot say that I "liked" them, because they left me just sad and a little angry rather than ever feeling delighted, hopeful, or uplifted. I found very little joy in them, and the overall spirituality was pretty depressing : basically, cling to God because you ain't got nuttin otherwise.
I also struggled mightily from the very start of the series with Kristen's continued devotion to a man clearly incapable of caring for her, or even of growing up and behaving like an adult. It poisons her entire life, it poisons the lives of others-- from her sister (that poor girl) to her sons-- and in the end, it breaks her own heart completely. I never understood her attraction to him (was it just a sexual thing at first? Then she felt like she had made her bed so she had to lie in it?) nor her refusal to throw him out, given his HORRIFIC and stupid actions. This made it difficult for me to connect to her, and since the whole series is ABOUT her, I had to literally drag myself through books two and three.
So, for me, not a great series, but I understand the literary value and the reason it is popular among some groups. But my God is a God of joy and hope, not just one of suffering.
I also struggled mightily from the very start of the series with Kristen's continued devotion to a man clearly incapable of caring for her, or even of growing up and behaving like an adult. It poisons her entire life, it poisons the lives of others-- from her sister (that poor girl) to her sons-- and in the end, it breaks her own heart completely. I never understood her attraction to him (was it just a sexual thing at first? Then she felt like she had made her bed so she had to lie in it?) nor her refusal to throw him out, given his HORRIFIC and stupid actions. This made it difficult for me to connect to her, and since the whole series is ABOUT her, I had to literally drag myself through books two and three.
So, for me, not a great series, but I understand the literary value and the reason it is popular among some groups. But my God is a God of joy and hope, not just one of suffering.
July 21, 2026
All my homies hate Arntor.
Shoutout Ulf, shoutout Simon (mostly) and Erlend (kinda)
This trilogy is simply a must read. Sigrid Undset, a Nobel Prize winner and, God willing, a future Saint (her cause for canonization has just been opened in Norway), writes like no one else I have read before. So subtle and so devastating. There is melodrama throughout, but more monumental are the little moments and quiet suffering that the characters endure in the midst of their work, suffering, marriages and families. The whole book is wonderful, if subdued at parts, and then the ending sequence comes sweeping in. A beautiful and massively moving, powerful and underrated masterpiece.
Shoutout Ulf, shoutout Simon (mostly) and Erlend (kinda)
This trilogy is simply a must read. Sigrid Undset, a Nobel Prize winner and, God willing, a future Saint (her cause for canonization has just been opened in Norway), writes like no one else I have read before. So subtle and so devastating. There is melodrama throughout, but more monumental are the little moments and quiet suffering that the characters endure in the midst of their work, suffering, marriages and families. The whole book is wonderful, if subdued at parts, and then the ending sequence comes sweeping in. A beautiful and massively moving, powerful and underrated masterpiece.
October 21, 2024
I have run out of superlatives for the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy. Suffice it to say that The Cross continues/finishes the story without any drop in the consistently high standard. Focus shifts to other characters (Simon, Erlend, her sons) but keeps returning to Kristin and her maternal feelings and also looking back on her life. There are some heart-breakingly powerful passages, especially towards the end. A fitting conclusion to an indisputable masterpiece.
December 31, 2025
God help me if I ever recover from this book.
October 1, 2024
Too much Christianity, not enough Svartedauden
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July 23, 2026The third and final installment of Undset’s Nobel-Prize winning trilogy about Kristin Lavransdatter, a woman of noble lineage in 14th century Norway. Anyone who is still interested in the trilogy after Books One and Two has proved themself willing to engage with a world in which the cost of human frailty was considered to be the threat of eternal damnation – a heavy price to pay for succumbing to temptations of the flesh. And yet in Kristin’s world, succumbing is every bit as common as it is today – the “rules” about courtship and marriage seem made to be broken, I learned about what was “supposed” to happen mostly through the contrast between it and what did happen. Over and over, young people make their own fates, choose their own partners, and manage the consequences in one way or another. Faith is powerful here; so too is profane love.
One of the great pleasures for me in reading this series was to immerse myself in an utterly unfamiliar world, courtesy of Undset’s decades of careful, meticulous research into the everyday lives, social norms, economic foundations, cultural practices of Medieval Norway. Perhaps to some readers, all the details about who slept where (in the loft, in the main building, on a bench, in a bed, on the wallside half of a bed, on the outer half of a bed) and with whom (parents, siblings, grandchildren, spouses, friends) would be dull. To such a reader, I can only say: maybe don’t pick these books. But for me, the thickness of these descriptions is what made the book come alive. What did people eat? What did they wear? How did they travel? When did they exchange gifts? What were the gifts? How did they stay warm, in wintry Norway, without Gortex and insulated midlayers and jackets padded with patented and trademarked goodies like “PrimaLoft® Gold Insulation Eco” and “Thermoball ™” insulation? How did they treat illness, how did they share news across distance? How did they express affection?
The answers to those questions and more were a reward of reading these books, and not the smallest reward either. But there were others, including watching Undset work through, in fiction, an observation she made in a 1919 essay quoted in the introduction to this volume, written by Sherrill Harbison, an expert on Scandinavian literature at UMass-Amherst: A woman “was destined to be subject to another person, and yet she was a freeborn soul with the same responsibility for her own doom or salvation as any man,” Undset wrote. And Kristin struggles with that juxtaposition between dependence and responsibility throughout all three volumes: “What continued to vex her were all the small wounds he had caused her with his cruel nonchalance, his childish lack of patience, and even the wild and thoughtless kind of love he gave her whenever he showed that he did indeed love her. … It had been such torment to feel her body so weak, her mind so ignorant and inexperienced, and yet not dare rely on the wisdom and strength of her husband.” (165) She is so capable and so stubborn and so strong-willed and so reluctant to bow to the rules of another person – whether her father or her husband – and yet she has been raised to believe, and truly does believe, that it is her husband’s duty and obligation to make her own decisionmaking and leadership and managerial skill unnecessary.
The theme of memory and forgetting remains as powerful in Book 3 as it was in the previous volumes, although Kristin is gradually learning to let go of her anger. Her childish, charismatic, gregarious and life-loving husband, who “had such a rare talent for forgetting” (103) through most of this series, fatefully holds on to a grudge in this volume, with profound consequences. And readers are reminded, through a reference to Isaiah 64:9, that humans need to be forgiven and even to have their gravest errors forgotten: “Be not wroth very sore, O Lord, neither remember iniquity for ever: behold, see, we beseech thee, we are all thy people” (Isaiah 64:9)
All together, these volumes amount to about 900 pages so I hope it isn’t a spoiler to acknowledge that the final volume takes the reader to the very end of Kristin’s life. And when it comes to the “joys” of being a woman in her 50s, Undset pulls no punches: “Kristin sat with her little grandson on her lap, thinking that it wouldn’t be easy no matter where she was. It was difficult getting old. It seemed such a short time ago that she herself was the young woman, when it was her fate that prompted the clamor of the men’s counsel and strife. Now she had been pushed into the background.” (347) And yet Kristin does not just fade into the background, but remains as strong-willed and as consequential as ever.
This series took me to an utterly unfamiliar place and time and way of thinking about the world. Much of the time, I just couldn’t relate to the moral framework. And yet there was also something timeless - not quite universal, but at least transcendent of the most narrow boundaries of place and time - about the way the characters here love and suffer and hope and rejoice and wound and comfort one another. It was a real journey.
One of the great pleasures for me in reading this series was to immerse myself in an utterly unfamiliar world, courtesy of Undset’s decades of careful, meticulous research into the everyday lives, social norms, economic foundations, cultural practices of Medieval Norway. Perhaps to some readers, all the details about who slept where (in the loft, in the main building, on a bench, in a bed, on the wallside half of a bed, on the outer half of a bed) and with whom (parents, siblings, grandchildren, spouses, friends) would be dull. To such a reader, I can only say: maybe don’t pick these books. But for me, the thickness of these descriptions is what made the book come alive. What did people eat? What did they wear? How did they travel? When did they exchange gifts? What were the gifts? How did they stay warm, in wintry Norway, without Gortex and insulated midlayers and jackets padded with patented and trademarked goodies like “PrimaLoft® Gold Insulation Eco” and “Thermoball ™” insulation? How did they treat illness, how did they share news across distance? How did they express affection?
The answers to those questions and more were a reward of reading these books, and not the smallest reward either. But there were others, including watching Undset work through, in fiction, an observation she made in a 1919 essay quoted in the introduction to this volume, written by Sherrill Harbison, an expert on Scandinavian literature at UMass-Amherst: A woman “was destined to be subject to another person, and yet she was a freeborn soul with the same responsibility for her own doom or salvation as any man,” Undset wrote. And Kristin struggles with that juxtaposition between dependence and responsibility throughout all three volumes: “What continued to vex her were all the small wounds he had caused her with his cruel nonchalance, his childish lack of patience, and even the wild and thoughtless kind of love he gave her whenever he showed that he did indeed love her. … It had been such torment to feel her body so weak, her mind so ignorant and inexperienced, and yet not dare rely on the wisdom and strength of her husband.” (165) She is so capable and so stubborn and so strong-willed and so reluctant to bow to the rules of another person – whether her father or her husband – and yet she has been raised to believe, and truly does believe, that it is her husband’s duty and obligation to make her own decisionmaking and leadership and managerial skill unnecessary.
The theme of memory and forgetting remains as powerful in Book 3 as it was in the previous volumes, although Kristin is gradually learning to let go of her anger. Her childish, charismatic, gregarious and life-loving husband, who “had such a rare talent for forgetting” (103) through most of this series, fatefully holds on to a grudge in this volume, with profound consequences. And readers are reminded, through a reference to Isaiah 64:9, that humans need to be forgiven and even to have their gravest errors forgotten: “Be not wroth very sore, O Lord, neither remember iniquity for ever: behold, see, we beseech thee, we are all thy people” (Isaiah 64:9)
All together, these volumes amount to about 900 pages so I hope it isn’t a spoiler to acknowledge that the final volume takes the reader to the very end of Kristin’s life. And when it comes to the “joys” of being a woman in her 50s, Undset pulls no punches: “Kristin sat with her little grandson on her lap, thinking that it wouldn’t be easy no matter where she was. It was difficult getting old. It seemed such a short time ago that she herself was the young woman, when it was her fate that prompted the clamor of the men’s counsel and strife. Now she had been pushed into the background.” (347) And yet Kristin does not just fade into the background, but remains as strong-willed and as consequential as ever.
This series took me to an utterly unfamiliar place and time and way of thinking about the world. Much of the time, I just couldn’t relate to the moral framework. And yet there was also something timeless - not quite universal, but at least transcendent of the most narrow boundaries of place and time - about the way the characters here love and suffer and hope and rejoice and wound and comfort one another. It was a real journey.
March 16, 2024
The Kristin Lavransdatter Trilogy has been on my 'to read' list for a long time, and I finally pitched in with some trepidation. A multi-volume Nobel-winning 13C historical epic sounds like it might be a slog, but this was remarkably flowing and effortless. So engaging that I read the trilogy back-to-back. As with Austen entire tranches of society (barely) exist as furniture - this is very much an accounting of a life in a very particular strata of society and that lack of background colour and depth does diminish it a tad. Still, it is a thoroughly transporting and engrossing journey through the life of the muchly tried but indomitable Kristin.
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February 18, 2018I believe this post on Kristin Lavransdatter will be more popular than last, -at least, this trilogy is better known and well read everywhere around me.
Sigrid Undset was born in Denmark, but her family moved to Norway when she was two years old. She was a novelist that was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1928.
Her trilogy on the life of Kristin Lavransdatter, daughter (datter) of Lavrans, gained some new interest when her work was translated for a second time in 1997 by the award winning translator Tiina Nunnally. The previous translation had been done in older English, and had censored a few things.
The picture with the three books from different publishers is my own picture. I found them separately for a good price. When you buy them, if you are interested in getting Nunnally's translation, be sure the edition states her as the translator. The only other translation doesn't mention who did it, it only mentions Sigrid Undset as the writer.
The trilogy was brought up to my attention a few years ago by a few homeschooling moms at a forum, who spoke highly of it. At that time, I read book 1, The Wreath. Impervious as I am for romance, the book felt a bit like a YA type of book. In hindsight, now that I've read the 3 books, I'd say they all have a different tone, and book one, with a young Kristin and Erlend, was full of reckless behavior, and faster paced than the other two.
At the end of book 1, something moved me to go back to Medieval Norway, and keep finding out what was of Kristin's life and those around her. The Wife, book #2, didn't disappoint. This trilogy gained new heights for me. Undset kept weaving a complex yet unassuming tapestry full of characters, human emotions, history, customs, and unforgettable pictures of the Norwegian landscape. She took me there, she gave me a privilege position, -that of a fly on a wall, and I was there as Kristin had her children, and her marriage entered a new phase.
After book #2, I faithfully started book #3, but life took me to different paths, and I quit after a few pages. Three years later, I decided to read the last book in the trilogy. It took me a little bit, but it all came back to me, and soon, I was once more immersed in the life of Kristin and her kin, enveloped by the air, the seasons, their comings and goings, walking towards the last stage of her life.
I don't wish to talk much about the plot or characters. I would love for anyone considering the trilogy, to enter as I did, not knowing anything other than it's worth their reading investment. Now that I've read them all, I do enjoy reviews where they elaborate about Kristin and the others. But not this review, -my reviews are never too elaborate, they are simply my impressions on books, maybe some facts of interest, that's all.
I know that for many, this trilogy has a special relevance since the book is also a portrayal of the catholic faith. For me, that aspect was significant as a historical depiction of Medieval Catholic Norway, and, despite of not sharing faith with Kristin nor with Undset, I appreciated being witness of Kristin's spiritual conflicts and the development of her beliefs and those around her. The spiritual facets of the book are ingrained in the life of the characters, in the times they are living. I benefited from reading it the same I do benefit and enjoy reading Dostoevsky, -even though I'm not an Orthodox christian either. Sigrid Undset must have been in love with her country. There's so much respect and admiration for Norway, its people, customs, the land.
I can only say I'm glad to have traveled back in time, and to have met Kristin and the others. I closed the last page sad, but thankful for Undset's generosity. She did not spare us anything, she offered a lavish banquet, and I'm pleased to have come to her invitation.
Sigrid Undset was born in Denmark, but her family moved to Norway when she was two years old. She was a novelist that was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1928.
Her best-known work is Kristin Lavransdatter, a trilogy about life in Scandinavia in the Middle Ages, portrayed through the experiences of a woman from birth until death. Its three volumes were published between 1920 and 1922.
Her trilogy on the life of Kristin Lavransdatter, daughter (datter) of Lavrans, gained some new interest when her work was translated for a second time in 1997 by the award winning translator Tiina Nunnally. The previous translation had been done in older English, and had censored a few things.
The picture with the three books from different publishers is my own picture. I found them separately for a good price. When you buy them, if you are interested in getting Nunnally's translation, be sure the edition states her as the translator. The only other translation doesn't mention who did it, it only mentions Sigrid Undset as the writer.
The trilogy was brought up to my attention a few years ago by a few homeschooling moms at a forum, who spoke highly of it. At that time, I read book 1, The Wreath. Impervious as I am for romance, the book felt a bit like a YA type of book. In hindsight, now that I've read the 3 books, I'd say they all have a different tone, and book one, with a young Kristin and Erlend, was full of reckless behavior, and faster paced than the other two.
At the end of book 1, something moved me to go back to Medieval Norway, and keep finding out what was of Kristin's life and those around her. The Wife, book #2, didn't disappoint. This trilogy gained new heights for me. Undset kept weaving a complex yet unassuming tapestry full of characters, human emotions, history, customs, and unforgettable pictures of the Norwegian landscape. She took me there, she gave me a privilege position, -that of a fly on a wall, and I was there as Kristin had her children, and her marriage entered a new phase.
After book #2, I faithfully started book #3, but life took me to different paths, and I quit after a few pages. Three years later, I decided to read the last book in the trilogy. It took me a little bit, but it all came back to me, and soon, I was once more immersed in the life of Kristin and her kin, enveloped by the air, the seasons, their comings and goings, walking towards the last stage of her life.
I don't wish to talk much about the plot or characters. I would love for anyone considering the trilogy, to enter as I did, not knowing anything other than it's worth their reading investment. Now that I've read them all, I do enjoy reviews where they elaborate about Kristin and the others. But not this review, -my reviews are never too elaborate, they are simply my impressions on books, maybe some facts of interest, that's all.
I know that for many, this trilogy has a special relevance since the book is also a portrayal of the catholic faith. For me, that aspect was significant as a historical depiction of Medieval Catholic Norway, and, despite of not sharing faith with Kristin nor with Undset, I appreciated being witness of Kristin's spiritual conflicts and the development of her beliefs and those around her. The spiritual facets of the book are ingrained in the life of the characters, in the times they are living. I benefited from reading it the same I do benefit and enjoy reading Dostoevsky, -even though I'm not an Orthodox christian either. Sigrid Undset must have been in love with her country. There's so much respect and admiration for Norway, its people, customs, the land.
I can only say I'm glad to have traveled back in time, and to have met Kristin and the others. I closed the last page sad, but thankful for Undset's generosity. She did not spare us anything, she offered a lavish banquet, and I'm pleased to have come to her invitation.
November 5, 2011
When I closed the cover on this mammoth trilogy (1069 pages) I just sat there reflecting on the long lifespan of the titular character—from the late 13th to the mid 14th century.
I reread the last two pages lingeringly, not wanting the book to end. That more than anything I think is the sign of a good story; you don't want to leave it. In the book, Kristin Lavransdatter, you come to really know the woman by that name. You walk her life from earliest childhood to death in old age and even though you may not always agree with her choices, you come to understand them—or at least I did. She was a very sympathetic character because, while far from perfect, she loved so deeply and passionately where she did love; she learned from her mistakes and she forgave whole-heartedly.
A fascinating story which I found myself thinking about when I wasn’t reading it, longing to get back to and yet hoping it would never end. The best book about the Middle Ages I’ve ever read. I know why it won the 1928 Nobel Prize.
I read the more arcane of the two available translations—because that was the one I had. Eventually I’d like to read it in the more accessible translation and see how much more I get out of it.
Most highly recommended.
I reread the last two pages lingeringly, not wanting the book to end. That more than anything I think is the sign of a good story; you don't want to leave it. In the book, Kristin Lavransdatter, you come to really know the woman by that name. You walk her life from earliest childhood to death in old age and even though you may not always agree with her choices, you come to understand them—or at least I did. She was a very sympathetic character because, while far from perfect, she loved so deeply and passionately where she did love; she learned from her mistakes and she forgave whole-heartedly.
A fascinating story which I found myself thinking about when I wasn’t reading it, longing to get back to and yet hoping it would never end. The best book about the Middle Ages I’ve ever read. I know why it won the 1928 Nobel Prize.
I read the more arcane of the two available translations—because that was the one I had. Eventually I’d like to read it in the more accessible translation and see how much more I get out of it.
Most highly recommended.
January 2, 2021
After taking almost two years to read the first books in the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy, I read the third book, The Cross, in less than a week back in January! I very intentionally waited until the first of the year so it would count for the Classics Challenge. I read it so quickly that I wondered if it was as long as the others, but it would have been 366 pages in paperback compared to 305 for The Wreath and 402 for The Wife. I enjoyed the Tiina Nunnally translation on the Kindle version.
I don’t feel that I can say anything about the third book in this trilogy without massive spoilers, so suffice it to say I highly recommend reading Kristin Lavransdatter. Although the story is told chronologically, the reader learns details of earlier times through Kristin’s recollections. These added details shifted my impressions of Kristin and made me reevaluate her character throughout the final book. I despised Kristin in the first book, tolerated her in the second, and came to love her in the third. I hope I can also grow more love-able as I grow older!
I don’t feel that I can say anything about the third book in this trilogy without massive spoilers, so suffice it to say I highly recommend reading Kristin Lavransdatter. Although the story is told chronologically, the reader learns details of earlier times through Kristin’s recollections. These added details shifted my impressions of Kristin and made me reevaluate her character throughout the final book. I despised Kristin in the first book, tolerated her in the second, and came to love her in the third. I hope I can also grow more love-able as I grow older!
June 30, 2022
My goodness, Sigrid Undset is something else!!! If you haven't yet read her, you must discover this extremely talented author, but be careful! When Undset writes, the reader must read with her heart because it is a matter of fact that you will be required to give an emotional response.
We read #kristinlavransdatter #Undset22 as a group of 81 readers. For a few of us, this was our first time reading Undset. For many, this was a nostalgic reread. I believe we even had a few readers on their third read. We read from different translations and in other languages. This is a trilogy that will stay with you being that it will have pulled, nay yanked on your heartstrings.
A good read to be enjoyed!!!
We read #kristinlavransdatter #Undset22 as a group of 81 readers. For a few of us, this was our first time reading Undset. For many, this was a nostalgic reread. I believe we even had a few readers on their third read. We read from different translations and in other languages. This is a trilogy that will stay with you being that it will have pulled, nay yanked on your heartstrings.
A good read to be enjoyed!!!
October 23, 2009
I loved these books. They were just heartbreaking, but so real. Why is it that some really basic truths about life are entirely non-apparent until I read a book that shows them up? What is it about fiction that can spur us to realize true things we haven't understood through living life directly? That is a mystery on par with the deepest I know.
These books surely have that quality. They read exactly like real life, beautiful, heartbreaking, breathtaking; but somehow they encapsulate it in a way that brings some quanta of understanding that wasn't there before. Please read and fall in love with these books. I know I did.
These books surely have that quality. They read exactly like real life, beautiful, heartbreaking, breathtaking; but somehow they encapsulate it in a way that brings some quanta of understanding that wasn't there before. Please read and fall in love with these books. I know I did.
March 3, 2018
This last book is a first-read for me. Unbelievably moving. Undset somehow created one of the most real characters in fiction.
“Now she realized her mother’s heart had been deeply etched with memories of her daughter, memories of her thoughts about the child from before she was born and from all the years the child could not remember, memories of fears and hopes and dreams that children would never know had been dreamed on their behalf, before it was their own turn to fear and hope and dream in secret.”
“Faint and scattered and pale wS the only way the eternal light had been mirrored in her life. But it dimly occurred to the mother that in her anguish and sorrow and live, each time the fruit of sin had ripened to sorrow, that was when her earthbound and willful soul managed to capture a trace of the heavenly light.”
“Surely she had never asked God for anything except that he should let her have her will. And every time she had been granted what she asked for—for the most part. Now here she sat with a contrite heart—not because she had sinned against God but because she was unhappy that she had been allowed to follow her will to the road’s end.”
“Now she realized her mother’s heart had been deeply etched with memories of her daughter, memories of her thoughts about the child from before she was born and from all the years the child could not remember, memories of fears and hopes and dreams that children would never know had been dreamed on their behalf, before it was their own turn to fear and hope and dream in secret.”
“Faint and scattered and pale wS the only way the eternal light had been mirrored in her life. But it dimly occurred to the mother that in her anguish and sorrow and live, each time the fruit of sin had ripened to sorrow, that was when her earthbound and willful soul managed to capture a trace of the heavenly light.”
“Surely she had never asked God for anything except that he should let her have her will. And every time she had been granted what she asked for—for the most part. Now here she sat with a contrite heart—not because she had sinned against God but because she was unhappy that she had been allowed to follow her will to the road’s end.”
July 19, 2017
I'm so happy this trilogy is over! I wasn't sure I would be able to finish, but I did. The only good part of this book was the last 2o pages when it dealt with the historical event of the Black Death in Norway. The back of the book was kind of misleading in talking about this event like it was a big part of the book. I kept reading waiting for it and out of 403 pages that part doesn't start till 382. Basically, I would have preferred a non-fiction history book on Norway during this time than these novels with characters which I disliked.
December 8, 2024
Definitely my favorite of the lot. The plot flowed the best of the three novellas, and I finally began to feel a modicum of empathy for Kristin (could be my fault lol).
Her character arc reached its peak in this one, and it only happened through so. Much. Sorrow. An apt description of the spiritual life and true Christian living.
“As she said five Ave Marias in memory of the painful mysteries of the Redemption, she felt that it was with her sorrows that she dared to seek shelter under the cloak of the Mother of God. With her grief over the children she had lost, with the heavier sorrows over all the fateful blows that had struck her sons without her being able to ward them off. Mary, the perfection of purity, of humility, of obedience to the will of her Father—she had grieved more than any other mother, and her mercy would see the weak and pale glimmer in a sinful woman's heart, which had burned with a fiery and ravaging passion, and all the sins that belong to the nature of love: spite and defiance, hardened relentlessness, obstinacy, and pride. And yet it was still a mother's heart.”
“Lord, if only you would give me this and this and this, then I will thank you and ask for nothing more except for this and this and this. ...
Surely she had never asked God for anything except that He should let her have her will. And every time she had been granted what she asked for—for the most part. Now here she sat with a contrite heart—not because she had sinned against God but because she was unhappy that she had been allowed to follow her will to the road's end.
She had not come to God with her wreath or with her sins and sorrows, not as long as the world still possessed a drop of sweetness to add to her goblet. But now she had come, after she had learned that the world is like an alehouse: The person who has no more to spend is thrown outside the door.”
“She had finally come so far that she seemed to be seeing her own life from the uppermost summit of a mountain pass. Now her path led down into the darkening valley, but first she had been allowed to see that in the solitude of the cloister and in the doorway of death someone was waiting for her who had always seen the lives of people the way villages look from a mountain crest. He had seen sin and sorrow, love and hatred in their hearts, the way the wealthy estates and poor hovels, the bountiful acres and the abandoned wastelands are all borne by the same earth. And he had come down among them, his feet had wandered among the lands, stood in castles and in huts, gathering the sorrows and sins of the rich and the poor, and lifting them high up with him on the cross.”
“Her heart burst with a feeling of oneness with these destitute and suffering people, among whom God had placed her; she prayed in a surge of sisterly tenderness for all those who were poor as she was and who suffered as she herself had suffered.
‘I will rise up and go home to my Father.’”
Her character arc reached its peak in this one, and it only happened through so. Much. Sorrow. An apt description of the spiritual life and true Christian living.
“As she said five Ave Marias in memory of the painful mysteries of the Redemption, she felt that it was with her sorrows that she dared to seek shelter under the cloak of the Mother of God. With her grief over the children she had lost, with the heavier sorrows over all the fateful blows that had struck her sons without her being able to ward them off. Mary, the perfection of purity, of humility, of obedience to the will of her Father—she had grieved more than any other mother, and her mercy would see the weak and pale glimmer in a sinful woman's heart, which had burned with a fiery and ravaging passion, and all the sins that belong to the nature of love: spite and defiance, hardened relentlessness, obstinacy, and pride. And yet it was still a mother's heart.”
“Lord, if only you would give me this and this and this, then I will thank you and ask for nothing more except for this and this and this. ...
Surely she had never asked God for anything except that He should let her have her will. And every time she had been granted what she asked for—for the most part. Now here she sat with a contrite heart—not because she had sinned against God but because she was unhappy that she had been allowed to follow her will to the road's end.
She had not come to God with her wreath or with her sins and sorrows, not as long as the world still possessed a drop of sweetness to add to her goblet. But now she had come, after she had learned that the world is like an alehouse: The person who has no more to spend is thrown outside the door.”
“She had finally come so far that she seemed to be seeing her own life from the uppermost summit of a mountain pass. Now her path led down into the darkening valley, but first she had been allowed to see that in the solitude of the cloister and in the doorway of death someone was waiting for her who had always seen the lives of people the way villages look from a mountain crest. He had seen sin and sorrow, love and hatred in their hearts, the way the wealthy estates and poor hovels, the bountiful acres and the abandoned wastelands are all borne by the same earth. And he had come down among them, his feet had wandered among the lands, stood in castles and in huts, gathering the sorrows and sins of the rich and the poor, and lifting them high up with him on the cross.”
“Her heart burst with a feeling of oneness with these destitute and suffering people, among whom God had placed her; she prayed in a surge of sisterly tenderness for all those who were poor as she was and who suffered as she herself had suffered.
‘I will rise up and go home to my Father.’”
April 4, 2025
I did it. The intimidating book that has been sitting on my borrowed & recommended pile is finished. Writing this collectively about the 3 “books” as 1 book.
First of all, this book is just impressive. The sheer amount of research Sigrid Undset had to have done in the 1900s to recreate such a foreign setting. I have never read a historical fiction book that was so detailed, so LONG, so thorough, so intricate, and so vivid. The physical geography with the beautiful and untamed Norwegian land and features that moves throughout the entire country, the complex familial relationships, lineages, and histories, and especially the devout, rigorous Catholicism with the lingering influence of the pagan magic and lore. The beautiful, imperfect character development for several different characters. I am amazed.
The book became a spiritual read for me. I finished The Wreath annoyed at Kristin’s weaknesses, ignorance, and selfishness. I was pretty aware that it was no doubt because she reminded me too much of myself and my own struggles at that age, but I figured that was the extent of what it was going to bring up—it wasn’t until I was a good way into The Cross that I was wrestling with pity for young Kristin being unprotected from and unprepared for those situations. Now, 17 seems so young to me. She was sent to an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people and no one to truly watch over her. She obviously still has culpability for her actions, but I had grace for her. And then I had grace for myself. Lots more thoughts for personal conversations.
Reading most of The Wife was raw & sweet, as I’m in that stage of motherhood, with young children clinging to me, learning to run a household, and experiencing the joys of newborns and firsts and pregnancy.
The Cross was lots and lots of tears. The learning of detachment from the things of the world, good and beautiful things, she’d clung so tightly to for so many years. The loss of everything familiar and comfortable and supportive. The learned surrender. Especially the surrender of her children.
I’m sure there are rereads in the future—probably as a mom with emerging adult children, then again with that stage in hindsight. But for now, I just have lots to sit with.
First of all, this book is just impressive. The sheer amount of research Sigrid Undset had to have done in the 1900s to recreate such a foreign setting. I have never read a historical fiction book that was so detailed, so LONG, so thorough, so intricate, and so vivid. The physical geography with the beautiful and untamed Norwegian land and features that moves throughout the entire country, the complex familial relationships, lineages, and histories, and especially the devout, rigorous Catholicism with the lingering influence of the pagan magic and lore. The beautiful, imperfect character development for several different characters. I am amazed.
The book became a spiritual read for me. I finished The Wreath annoyed at Kristin’s weaknesses, ignorance, and selfishness. I was pretty aware that it was no doubt because she reminded me too much of myself and my own struggles at that age, but I figured that was the extent of what it was going to bring up—it wasn’t until I was a good way into The Cross that I was wrestling with pity for young Kristin being unprotected from and unprepared for those situations. Now, 17 seems so young to me. She was sent to an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people and no one to truly watch over her. She obviously still has culpability for her actions, but I had grace for her. And then I had grace for myself. Lots more thoughts for personal conversations.
Reading most of The Wife was raw & sweet, as I’m in that stage of motherhood, with young children clinging to me, learning to run a household, and experiencing the joys of newborns and firsts and pregnancy.
The Cross was lots and lots of tears. The learning of detachment from the things of the world, good and beautiful things, she’d clung so tightly to for so many years. The loss of everything familiar and comfortable and supportive. The learned surrender. Especially the surrender of her children.
I’m sure there are rereads in the future—probably as a mom with emerging adult children, then again with that stage in hindsight. But for now, I just have lots to sit with.
May 21, 2024
"All fires burn out sooner or later."
What a beautiful, eloquent, shattering depiction of the holy messiness of life! Thank God for this book and for the crazy, wonderful people I have gotten to know while reading it.
What a beautiful, eloquent, shattering depiction of the holy messiness of life! Thank God for this book and for the crazy, wonderful people I have gotten to know while reading it.
January 9, 2026
Over og ut, Kristin. Ingen brannfakkel dette, men et faktisk mesterverk av en trilogi
November 3, 2024
" كل النيران تخبو في النهاية "
ربما خبت نيران رحلتي مع ثلاثية كريستين واقعيًا لكن انا على ثقة بأن هذه النيران لن تخبو في ذاكرتي
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