Ahasverus död

Tetralogy

by Pär Lagerkvist

Ahasverus död är den tredje delen i Pär Lagerkvists tetralogi om den kristna etiken ställd mot moderna värderingar. Romanen föregås av Barabbas och Sibyllan och följs av Pilgrim på havet.

Genres: Fiction, Sweden, Scandinavian Literature, Nobel Prize, Classics, Literature, Historical Fiction

93 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1960

About the author

Lagerkvist was born in 1891 in southern Sweden. In 1910 he went to Uppsala as a student and in 1913 he left for Paris, where he was exposed to the work of Pablo Picasso. He studied Middle Age Art, as well as Indian and Chinese literature, to prepare himself for becoming a poet. His first collection of poetry was published in 1916. In 1940 Lagerkvist was chosen as one of the "aderton" (the eighteen) of the Swedish Academy.

Lagerkvist wrote poetry, novels, plays, short stories and essays. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1951 "for the artistic vigour and true independence of mind with which he endeavours in his poetry to find answers to the eternal questions confronting mankind."

Reviews

[Valeriu Gherghel · Rating 1 out of 5]

O traducere înfricoșător de proastă a unei povestiri mai degrabă mediocre. Discursul jidovului rătăcitor din final conține doar truisme: „Da, Dumnezeu este cel care ne ţine departe de divinitate. Ne împiedică să ne potolim setea chiar de la izvor”. Foarte adînc! Se poate cita pe Facebook :)

Dintre cărțile autorului prefer Piticul și Baraba. Piticul e, neîndoielnic, o capodoperă...

Mai bine fac o listă de romane despre legenda jidovului rătăcitor:

1. Alexandre Arnoux, Carnet de route du juif errant, Paris, Éditions Bernard Grasset, 1931
2. Albert Cohen, Solal, Paris, Éditions Gallimard, 2011.
3. Simone de Beauvoir, Toţi oamenii sînt muritori, traducere din limba franceză de Florica Eugenia Condurachi, Bucureşti, Editura Univers, 2008.
4. Jean d’Ormesson, Povestea jidovului rătăcitor, traducere de Toader Saulea, Bucureşti,
Editura Univers, 1995
5. Edmond Fleg, Viaţa lui Iisus povestită de evreul rătăcitor, traducere din limba franceză de Iulian Herescu, Bucureşti, Editura Lucman, 2007.
6. Stefan Heym, Ahasver, le Juif Errant, traducere în limba franceză de Jan Dusay, Paris, Éditions L’Age d’Homme, 1991.

[Julian Worker · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is rather different from other books you'll read.

It's the third novel in a series that began with Barabbas and The Sibyl.

Ahasuerus is mentioned in certain Old Testament books such as Esther and numerous scholars have proposed theories as to who Ahasuerus represents - most identify him with Xerxes I. However the Ahasuerus of the title of this book is meant to represent the Wandering Jew, a mythical immortal man who in the original legend taunted Jesus on the way to the Crucifixion. Ahasuerus was then cursed to walk the Earth until the Second Coming.

In this novel the pilgrim Tobias, bound for Jerusalem / The Holy Land meets the mysterious title character in a pilgrim's hostel where there's also a former lover of Tobias's called Diana. After some painful reminiscing between Diana and Tobias and a night's rest, the three set off on the remainder of their journey.

Diana saves Tobias's life but is herself killed by an arrow. Ahasuerus and Tobias arrive at a port where the last ship of the year has just sailed for The Holy Land. Tobias uses the last of his money to pay his way on a yawl crewed by a bunch of villains which is sailing to The Holy Land. Ahasuerus remains behind and finds shelter in a monastery.

[Ty · Rating 3 out of 5]

A couple years ago I was spending the night at my aunt and uncle's house in Kansas City, and I was looking for something to read in my cousin Holly's room. Most of her books seemed very, uh, "nice": Narnia, Laura Ingalls Wilder, etc. I'm not being dismissive, I love both of those series. But then I found a book called BARABBAS, about some minor characters from the New Testament. It was angry and grimey and gloomy; I called it Bible fanfic, but Lagerkvist is obviously more freaked out by the Bible than he is a fan of it. This AHASUERUS book isn't as weird or good as the BARABBAS one, or maybe it just wasn't as startling for me. It's set in the middle ages and is about some pilgrims trying to get to Jerusalem but they aren't really sure why. I liked the parts where they wander around feeling weird about Jesus, but the rest is a little boring. What's good about Lagerkvist's characters is that they take Jesus seriously but they aren't convinced of anything about him, so Lagerkvist gets to let them say things that most atheists would be embarrassed to try to talk about but that most christians seem scared to even consider. "It could not be the most difficult thing of all to walk up a hill and let oneself be crucified. They say that his suffering and death are the greatest events ever to have come to pass in the world, and the most significant. Perhaps; that may be so. But how many there are who must suffer without their suffering having any significance at all!

http://tymelgren.com/books/august2012bookreport.html

[Dan · Rating 4 out of 5]

So I thought this book was the beginning of a trilogy and in some ways it is because a main character is introduced here and lasts through the next two books. But I found out today that this book is the middle book in a pentalogy (or however that is spelled) because there is a string of five books that deal with the crucifixion. Not knowing this I read these five books entirely out of order which means I need to reread them all in order for things to make sense.

So they should be read as follows: Barabbas, The Sibyl, The Death of Ahasuerus, Pilgrim at Sea and finally The Holy Land.

Now that that has been said this book was pretty dark. There was one part that I had a hard time reading so I read through it as fasting as I could. Again like Lagerkvist's other books it deals with some heavy things which is reason he should be read more widely. I think the problem might be that he was an atheist who dealt mainly in the spiritual and mystical (at least in this pentalogy). Too atheistic for religious people and too religious for the atheists?

I have his novel The Dwarf to take on soon which I believe is his first novel.

[Andràș-Florin Răducanu · Rating 2 out of 5]

Nu știu dacă traducerea a fost proastă sau dacă această carte chiar e supraestimată. Apreciez efortul de dialogare a creștinismului cu contemporaneitatea, dar cam atât.

[John Hatley · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is the third of Lagerkvist's tetralogy (and the only one that I hadn't yet read). Like the other three, it questions Christian morality, ethics and beliefs against the background of the harsh reality of life. I can recommend all four of the books, both for "believers" and "non-believers". They will give you a lot to think about.

[Andrea Z. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un gruppo di pellegrini è diretto verso la Terra Santa. Sono pieni di contraddizioni, insignificanti e capaci di azioni sconcertanti, ma in alcuni momenti essi irradiano qualcosa che non sembra provenire da loro. Qualcosa di così reale che è in grado di trasformarli.
Tobias è un pellegrino insolito. È un bandito che ha vissuto una vita dissoluta. Un giorno viene vincolato al destino di una donna. È attraverso questa donna che Dio lo sceglie; così inginocchiandosi davanti a lei, si inginocchia davanti a Dio. Inizialmente Tobias non vuole essere vincolato al potere di un Altro, ma col susseguirsi degli eventi il desiderio di raggiungere la Terra Santa cresce e si impone su di lui.
Il secondo personaggio principale è Assuero. Per lui il divino deve esistere, ma è reso inaccessibile da Dio stesso. Egli afferma che "Dio è ciò ci separa dal divino". In punto di morte Assuero avverte una luce meravigliosa, ma la riconosce come terrena. Eppure nel mistero della morte ogni possibilità resta aperta.

[Marc · Rating 3 out of 5]

"To himself he thought, What happiness to be able to die. That is the land for which a man must really yearn: the land of death, the holy land…"

I'm not sure if it was the translation or not, but this one felt "clunkier" than some of Lagerkvist's other books. Allegorical but maybe too heavy handed? I'm not quite sure how to sum it up. Certainly, an enigmatic read as he breathes life into the tale of the "Wandering Jew" who falls in with a hodge-podge group of spiritual pilgrims despite his renunciation of Christ. As of yet, for me, there are no "bad" Lagerkvist books---I'm merely comparing/rating him in relation to his other writings. This one felt like modern life and mankind's suffering running into the mystery of the divine. I'll be trying to decipher the layers and symbolism for some time to come...

"Beyond the gods, beyond all that falsifies and coarsens the world of holiness, beyond all lies and distortion, all twisted divinities and all the abortions of human imagination, there must be something stupendous which is inaccessible to us. Which, by our very failure to capture it, demonstrates how inaccessible it is. Beyond all the sacred clutter the holy thing itself must exist."

(All hail the inter-library loan system for putting this one into my hands!)

[Lena · Rating 5 out of 5]

Romanens sparsmakade stringenta språk imponerade mig redan vid första läsningen i sena tonåren. Kort poetisk grym och mycket mänsklig. Fortfarande en fröjd att läsa.

[Cloglover · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent follow up to my all time fave, The Sybil. Beautiful book, beautiful spare prose to be expected with Lagerkvist.

[Jonas Paro · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mycket religiösa grubblerier och funderingar. Språket som vanligt helt fantastiskt när det kommer från Lagerkvist men denna känns initialt inte som ett av mästarens mer minnesvärda verk.

[Manfred Janker · Rating 4 out of 5]

Men Diana kallade jag henne aldrig mer

[Ape · Rating 3 out of 5]

Den har ar inte den langsta bok man kommer att lasa nagonsin, men det ar tung litteratur. Jag visste inget om boken innan jag laste den... faktiskt vet jag inget mer om den nu, sa jag kanske har misstolkat nagonting. Den verkar utspelar sig i medeltiden. Pesten namns, samt resor till den heliga landet, soldater, krig, osv. Den ar ocksa ganska tungt med religion och grubblandet over forhallandet med gud osv. Jag vet inte om boken ar min grej direkt, men det var intressant att lasa en gang iaf. En framling kommer fram till nagot slags hus dar resande manniskor sover over. De aker till den heliga landet, men de ar en blandning av rika och fattiga, ljugare, tjuv, soldater och prostituerade - tom en flicka som inte har rad med att aka, sa maste hon saljer sin kropp for att kunna aka. Framlingen pratar med en soldat, Tobias, som ar dar med en hund han hittade i en dod kvinnas stuga. Tobias kom dit med Diana, en kvinna han rakade traffa i skogen. Han namner att han valdtog henne - valdigt avslappnad som om det ar okej med valdtakt! och att de bodde tillsammans i skogen ett tag. Han namnde henne till Diana, och hon verkade som om nagon natur manniskor/haxan. Det var bara nar de kom till samhallet att hon forstordes, och blev en hora bland annat. Jag vet inte vem Ahasverus ar - var det framlingen, som dor till slutet? Ingen anning, troligtvist har jag missat mycket i boken.

[Ethan Kaye · Rating 5 out of 5]

A great book for when you're going through your jewish mysticism phase.

[Rachel Kowal · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.2 stars

A quick, disjointed read with weighty content. A stranger comes to town and finds an allegory of unclear intent. Something to ruminate on as the storm rages.

[Stil de scriitor · Rating 3 out of 5]

http://stildescriitor.ro/blog/2017/12...

[Scott Bielinski · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lagerkvist is an author of peace, the religious atheist (I think?) whose existential spirituality lays bare the human condition. Through his art, he explores the human (and so spiritual/religious) longing for union and peace. The only problem is, writing in an age of the death of God, Lagerkvist knows that modern man is unable to acknowledge the movement of God’s grace in Jesus Christ. And so his characters are haunted.

Each of Lagerkvist’s characters represents the inchoate spirituality in his novels: the longing for a spiritual reality beyond them and the longing for love. Diana’s final words to Tobias sum up the Lagerkvist’s spirituality: “I hope you reach the land you long for” (89). As the one who sacrifices herself for Tobias, Diana represents the possibility of the spirituality we can find in acts of love, acts which predispose us to divine forgiveness and toward rightly seeing Christ and His work for us. She enters and exits the story with her smile, a flipping of Ahasuerus’ interpretation of Sibyl’s son’s smile in the previous book: a sign of God’s remoteness. Instead, the smile is a reminder of God’s forgiveness, wisdom, and, embodied in Diana's final act, God’s self-sacrificial love. It is up to Tobias and Ahasuerus to plumb the depths of this divine mystery: how Love makes our meaninglessness meaningful.

Peace with God comes through his grace, which necessarily purges us of our natural tendency to create images and idols of who He is. Ahasuerus’ curse is not immortality - it is his belief in God's malevolence. Like a virus, this corrupts his view of the world, alienating him from it, as well as positive expressions of love and self-sacrifice. This is why, in the end, he can express gratitude for the man tending to him in his final moments. In the titular character, Lagerkvist develops the profoundly theological notion that we must be stripped of our anthropomorphic visions of God. These ideas are mere idols and images, which alienate us from God and man, alike. Ahasuerus can recognize his “brother” once he is purged of his vicious and cruel notions of God. We are reminded that, left to our own devices, the god(s) of our imaginations separate our souls from the true and living God. For Lagerkvist, God is not dead - but our mental excretions of him are. Ahasuerus dies conceding the existence of something - his language simply cannot capture it: “Beyond the gods, beyond all that falsifies and coarsens the world of holiness, beyond all lies and distortion, all twisted divinities and all the abortions of human imagination, there must be something stupendous which is inaccessible to us” (114). In this, Ahasuerus’ rejection of Jesus Christ as the one who reveals God (John 1:18) is reified - and so Ahasuerus dies without rest, though he does die with peace. What kind of peace this is is anyone’s guess. However, in Tobias, the pilgrimage continues. Whereas Ahasuerus represents the soul's closing to the divine, Tobias, gripped with the drama of Christ’s sacrificial love, represents the soul's opening to God’s love and forgiveness in Jesus Christ.

While I always enjoy Lagerkvist’s spare prose, I do not think this book succeeds like Barabbas and The Sibyl. Lagerkvist’s symbology is too opaque and inaccessible. The Sibyl does a much better job balancing pagan symbols associated with Apollos and Dionysius and Christian symbols, while this novel is much more uneven (failing to fully draw out the Diana/Christ parallel). Ahasuerus’ death is strange, and his “transformation” does not seem warranted textually. It is unclear (at least to me) how Ahasuerus moves from a relatively impassioned man to an imitator of Christ (a lover of mankind, one who identifies Christ as “his brother,”). Because I love Lagerkvist, I am rounding up from a 3.75 and giving this 4 stars. I do hope the remainder of this spiritual tetralogy is more unified and focused.

“Distraught, he bent over the woman who had saved his life, given her life for his. When in the utmost agitation he told her this, she just smiled at him: a pale smile. For she had turned very white, and this made her beautiful - as beautiful as she had once been, so long ago. Everything about her was pure and lovely again; she was unravaged, undeformed by anything that did not belong to her - could not really belong to her. There was nothing left of it.” (89)

[Socrate · Rating 3 out of 5]

Într-un han pentru drumeţii în pelerinaj la Ţara Sfântă, într-o seară, sosi un om ce părea urmărit de fulgere, deoarece, în momentul în care uşa se deschise brusc, în spatele lui, întreg cerul părea o văpaie; ploaia şi vântul se repeziră asupra lui, iar tot ce a putut face a fost să închidă uşa la loc. Când, în sfârşit, reuşi, se întoarse către camera slab luminată numai de câteva opaiţe urât mirositoare şi părea să nu se dumirească unde se afla. Era o cameră mare, cu pereţii goi, iar, în capătul îndepărtat, era atât de întuneric încât abia dacă putea zări ceva. Dar, din câte se vedea, era plină de oameni îngenuncheaţi pe podeaua acoperită cu paie murdare, pline de noroi. Păreau să se roage; dinspre ei venea un murmur nedesluşit, dar nu putea să le vadă feţele, deoarece toţi erau îngenuncheaţi cu spatele la el. Aerul era dens şi înăbuşitor; pentru cineva care venea de afară, era aproape scârbos şi greu de respirat. Ce era aici?
Nu departe de uşă, aşezaţi pe lângă mesele strâmbe, câţiva bărbaţi cu feţe aspre jucau zaruri şi beau ceva. Mai erau şi câteva femei, care se ţineau de gâtul bărbaţilor şi păreau la fel de ameţite de băutură ca aceştia. Una dintre ele îi aruncă străinului, ce părea urmărit de fulgere, o privire înceţoşată. Nimeni altcineva nu-l mai luă în seamă.
Doar la una dintre mese mai era un loc liber la care stătea un bărbat destul de retras. Privea în gol, absorbit în propriile gânduri. Era de vârstă mijlocie, noduros şi uscăţiv; stătea cu picioarele întinse sub masă, cu un câine tolănit la picioarele lui. Străinul se duse la masa lui şi se aşeză lângă el.
Bărbatul nu-şi ridică privirea sau nu păru să fi observat că se apropiase cineva. Nici străinul nu-i acordă atenţie, în afară de o uitătură piezişă spre el. Avea o faţă aspră, închisă, acoperită cu barbă nerasă de câteva zile, ţepoasă şi roşietică, cu o linie dură a gurii ce nu invita pe nimeni să se apropie, îşi ţinea mâinile lungi, subţiri şi păroase, pe masă, în lumina slabă a opaiţului care pâlpâia în curentul de aer ce venea dinspre uşă, ca un mic animal speriat, în camera aceea mare şi întunecoasă.
Murmurul rugăciunilor se putea auzi amestecat cu zgomotul zarurilor aruncate pe la mese şi cu râsetele şi vorbele ameţite de băutură ale jucătorilor. Afară bubuia furtuna, izbindu-se de peretele din spatele mesei; ploaia bătea în perete şi în fereastra de deasupra capului lor; răpăia izbindu-se de obloane.
Străinul îi aruncă din nou o privire bărbatului de lângă el. Nu avea nici un rost să-l întrebe ceva: unde se aflau, ce fel de loc ciudat era acesta cocoţat sus pe deal.
Câinele se mişcă, se întoarse şi se aşeză din nou jos la picioarele bărbatului cu un scheunat slab. Bărbatul păru să nu bage de seamă, sau poate nici nu ştiuse vreun moment că ceva se mişcase şi se frecase de încălţările lui vechi şi rupte.

[Mbuye · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘The Death Of Ahasuerus’ is the third book in Pär Lagerkvist’s pentalogy about the Holy Land, a large part of which is also about the travails of the Wandering Jew of legend.

Who are they, these people, gathered at a ‘pilgrim inn?’ The landlady herself, abandoned at the inn as an infant, and now an old woman, the manager-owner of the inn, sees but never judges the people who pass through the inn on their way to the Holy Land. Some are soldiers, some are bandits. Most are rogues who sell charms and relics to the travellers. Some have piety beyond measure: a young woman who sells her body to earn the needful money to pay for her voyage.

But three stand out. One is a soldier turned bandit turned pilgrim, one is the raddled woman he despoiled and ruined, and the third is a stranger who has no intention of going on a pilgrimage. For he is a doomed man, doomed to live forever, and to wander forever.

As we gather their stories from a brief night’s rest, the fundamental questions of life are posed and answered by themselves. The soldier-bandit-rapist had lately entered an abandoned village, one which he himself might have ravaged, he has put so many to the torch - and entering the last house of all, finds in it a dead woman – one who carries the stigmata on her hands and feet. That in itself might not have been much, but the man in him stays to sit vigil all night by the side of an unknown corpse, and to give her a decent burial the next day.

His lover, whom he first met in a woodland by the side of a stream, and mockingly christened Diana, believes herself beyond redemption. But is she?

And the stranger, who longs for death and is doomed to immortality, stays with the soldier and makes sure his purpose is not swayed by two unnecessary deaths. And as the frail fishing vessel with the murderous looking crew sails away into the storm, Ahasuerus (for he it is) actually finds himself hoping for the soldier’s safety.

And with that, the curse is lifted.

More a novella than a short story, ‘The Death of Ahasuerus' starts where ‘The Sibyl’ left him, unsatisfied and yet understanding more about the curse the Nazarene had laid on him. For if God curse you, you can never escape Him, you are forever bound to God. The ‘Death’ is finally understanding the motives of human actions, sacrifice, love, redemption and forgiveness.

[Elin · Rating 3 out of 5]

”Bortom gudarna, bortom allt som förfalskar och förråar det heligas värld, bortom all lögn och förvridning, alla förvridna gudaväsen och människoinbillningens alla missfoster, måste det finnas någonting oerhört som är oåtkomligt för oss. Som genom alla våra fåfänga försök att infånga det visar hur oåtkomligt det är för oss. Bortom all helig bråte måste det heliga själv finnas, trots allt. Det tror jag, ja det är jag förvissad om.”

Jaha ja, jag hade precis bestämt att ge denna bok av min favoritförfattare Pär Lagerkvist superlågt betyg. Jag älskar denna författare. Hur han kan sätta ord på utanförskap, främlingskap, isolering, ensamhet, sårbarhet men ändå stark längtan och hopp. Han gör det som ingen annan. Hans böcker berör mig på djupet.

Denna gjorde till en början inte det. Jag blev så fruktansvärt arg. Boken har ju år på nacken, men det ursäktar inte sättet författaren skriver om en kvinna som blivit utsatt för våldtäkt.

Men boken får inte bottenbetyg ändå. Och det är endast för några sidor i slutet där bla citatet ovan finns med. Där utbrister huvudkaraktären ut i ett långt uttalande där han gör upp mot en gud som han upplever sig förbannad och utstött av. Han har kämpat hela sitt liv mot en gud som varit dömande, krävande och grym. I slutet mot sitt liv gör han upp mot den gudsbilden och slipper den press som har legat över honom hela livet. Själv berörs jag verkligen av det, hur viktigt det är att göra upp med gudsbilder som kväver och faktiskt skiljer oss från att verkligen möta den levande källan - det som jag som troende kristen ju igenkänner som just Gud, men som är mycket större och annorlunda än de bilder av gud som vi människor har byggt upp och som inte håller.

Boken får 3/3 av mig på grund av det som står i slutet av boken, men jag tycker fortfarande väldigt illa om skildringen av kvinnan som finns med i berättelsen.

[Dave Rush · Rating 5 out of 5]

I don’t really understand all the hate on this book. To me, there is a lot of brilliance in the craftsmanship and approach that Lagerkvist puts into his works. Tobias is a very common man. He was a soldier, rapist, a monster, but he is also tender, awkward, and altogether human. He is the portrait of normality in a broken world. And as he runs from destiny, just like Ahasuerus, he can’t outwit God. His basic and altogether average existence, leads him to pursue something more powerful than him. And it is in the altogether mundanity and normality of the life and times of Christ, that the sacrifice and power become altogether more transparent.
Haunting is the realization that there were so many crosses and graves. Yet that is God’s very point. To attack the accused and cursed, is just as great of a sin. For the Son of God was also the Son of Man. He was no different than the others who were being crucified. As such, to throw grievance to them is to also attack God. So as Ahasuerus attempts to defend his actions, he only further shows his wrongfulness. Just as the arrow to Diana was inevitable, so too were his actions wrong across all times and fates. Despite his belief that he outsmarted God and man, he is still trapped in the will of a power fully beyond his comprehension and understanding.
Overall, this tale has a brilliance. It makes one think about the nature of actions and what it means to be human. Similar to Hesse in such works as “Siddhartha” and “Journey to the East” the partnering of parable and philosophy makes man think on his morality and mortality!

[Jefferson Fortner · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is the continuation of the story of the Wandering Jew (named now). Once again, there is a blending of Greco-Roman mythology and Judeo-Christian mythology. Enough time has passed that there are now pilgrims that travel to the Holy Land as part of their Christian faith. Ahasuerus come in out of the rain into an inn where many such pilgrims are sheltering for the night. He meets one pilgrim, but one who is traveling as part of a compulsion of atonement for his past versus any deep-rooted faith. This one pilgrim travels with a woman named Diana who is clearly supposed to be a living embodiment of the Greco-Roman goddess, Diana, but one who has diminished due to the corruption of the flesh. The more she has been involved in human occupations, the more she has diminished. However, she eventually redeems herself into a more vital form. Her presence provides protection to the pilgrim, but by the end of the novel this pilgrim has become even more obsessed with his need to complete the pilgrimage (to be continued in the next book), once again in spite of his lack of faith in the Christian religion. In addition, it is as if Ahasuerus has only needed to observed the story of these two people in order to complete his own ideal. Ahasuerus lies down and to slowly, and finally, die. His wandering mind—in a bit of a soliloquy towards Jesus (instead of any kind of prayer)—engages in a final struggle and rejection of Christ, yet he still manages to die in a spirit of peace.

[Ba · Rating 5 out of 5]

There is something beautiful that happens at the end of a Lagerkvist novel where everything opens up and is destabilized, yet becomes graspable/illuminated with greater reality. The floating questions are pulled into language and articulated with great force. Usually in a Lagerkvist novel this happens all at once at the ending. In this novel all of this happens as Ahasuerus is described by the brother as having achieved a kind of peace. Who is this familiar brother who Ahasuerus (in his fading vision -- which at the same time gives way to light, softness) feels he has seen before? Is it the unnamed Christ? What does it mean that the brother in his humility, namelessness, kind unassuming servitude, is literally granting a kind of peace and comfort to Ahasuerus in his dying moments? Is this a kind of mercy that transcends the curse? Thinking of the biblical language of ineffable excess. Cursed in such a concrete way, a curse that does not seem that it can be lifted -- because this would be against the omnipotent God's will. And yet mercy exceeds this.
Or is it the opposite? That the peace is what Ahasuerus believes it to be, something won entirely by the self, not a gift of mercy. Something borne out of his "conquering" of God. An intellectual mastery in which he achieves brotherhood with Christ at the expense of God the Father.
The richness of Lagerkvist comes from the ambiguity of the questions that arise thusly...

[Cc · Rating 5 out of 5]

There is something beautiful that happens at the end of a Lagerkvist novel where everything opens up and is destabilized, yet becomes graspable/illuminated with greater reality. The floating questions are pulled into language and articulated with great force. Usually in a Lagerkvist novel this happens all at once at the ending. In this novel all of this happens as Ahasuerus is described by the brother as having achieved a kind of peace. Who is this familiar brother who Ahasuerus (in his fading vision -- which at the same time gives way to light, softness) feels he has seen before? Is it the unnamed Christ? What does it mean that the brother in his humility, namelessness, kind unassuming servitude, is literally granting a kind of peace and comfort to Ahasuerus in his dying moments? Is this a kind of mercy that transcends the curse? Thinking of the biblical language of ineffable excess. Cursed in such a concrete way, a curse that does not seem that it can be lifted -- because this would be against the omnipotent God's will. And yet mercy exceeds this.
Or is it the opposite? That the peace is what Ahasuerus believes it to be, something won entirely by the self, not a gift of mercy. Something borne out of his "conquering" of God. An intellectual mastery in which he achieves brotherhood with Christ at the expense of God the Father.
The richness of Lagerkvist comes from the ambiguity of the questions that arise thusly...

[Seth Tomko · Rating 1 out of 5]

If you're really into Scandinavian Christian Existentialism, I guess check out this book. It has a few such philosophically inclined notions. As a novel it is dreadful, consisting mostly of characters monologuing at each other with precious little taking place. All the worst elements of The Sibyl are present and magnified without any of that book's consideration. Save yourself and just read The Dwarf or Barabbas if you're going to read Lagerqvist.

[Danielle · Rating 3 out of 5]

It’s a long time since I read Barrabas as part of my Swedish degree course and I didn’t realise this novella is part of the same tetralogy until I started it. There is a clear theme of the protagonist not understanding Christianity. It was a quick refresher in reading Swedish as it is spoken so that was useful. There was a particularly horrible scene involving a dog but overall it was fairly average.

[Bob Lopez · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quick read of a little fable. Mostly set in Inn where a stranger sits with a man, Tobias, and is later joined by a woman familiar to Tobias, Diana. We are told their history, their love affair, etc., their falling out. After a night's rest, the three set off on their journey, a pilgrimage to the "Holy Land" trailing a larger group of pilgrims.

The group of three is set upon by some archers and Diana is killed by an arrow intended for Tobias. He and the stranger bury her, then proceed onward to the ocean where the last ship carrying pilgrims has left. Tobias then gives all his money to some shady dudes and boards their ship while the stranger remains behind. Perfect set up for the sequel.

[Nick · Rating 1 out of 5]

Traducere foarte proasta,caractere foarte nasoale cu care nu poti empatiza(sunt toti naspa from one point or another), povestea sincer nu prea a existat sau daca a fost, a fost foarte proasta si plictisitoare. Are teme religioase so I guess if you re into that u can read it, dar it's not that great.

[elvira söderberg · Rating 2 out of 5]

Pär Lagerkvist är ibland litet som en religiöst vilse Kafka. Anonyma karaktärer i lika anonyma, klaustrofobiska miljöer där fokuset ligger på ett outtalat letande efter svar. Budskapet och det slutliga svaret är något för diffust för att väcka något särskilt i mig. Visste inte att Ahasverus död var en del av en tetralogi, funkade halvt som en fristående dagsläsning ändå.

[Jacek · Rating 2 out of 5]

August 4, 2020 : Vague and distant like Herod and Mariamne was, and I think Herod is the better book, but in any case, though I can't find anything to really admire in Lagerkvist there's something about the tone and pale light of his books that keeps me thinking about them.