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Pan
Pan by Knut Hamsun who won the 1920 Nobel Prize in Literature, is a multi-layered psychological masterpiece of human perversity and pride in the face of love and sensual attraction.
Romantically awkward hunter, fisherman and nature-lover Lieutenant Thomas Glahn lives in a cabin away from society -- alone, except for his dog and occasional interactions with the locals including the young and audacious Edwina, a free spirit who searches for a prince to conquer her, and has not yet met her match. The two commence a peculiar hot and cold relationship that evolves into a tragic psychological standoff.
A classic literary probing of quirks and vulnerabilities of the psyche, set against the exquisite natural background of Norway.
170 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1894
301 people are currently reading
11047 people want to read
About the author
Knut Hamsun
731 books2,427 followersNovels of Norwegian writer Knut Hamsun (born Knud Pedersen), include
Hunger
(1890) and
The Growth of the Soil
(1917). He won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1920.
He insisted on the intricacies of the human mind as the main object of modern literature to describe the "whisper of the blood, and the pleading of the bone marrow." Hamsun pursued his literary program, debuting in 1890 with the psychological novel Hunger.
He insisted on the intricacies of the human mind as the main object of modern literature to describe the "whisper of the blood, and the pleading of the bone marrow." Hamsun pursued his literary program, debuting in 1890 with the psychological novel Hunger.
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February 9, 2017
I went into the café and sat down in the corner. I prefer to sit there. I took out my book and opened it. After a while, I looked up and saw that one of the waitresses was standing behind me. I realised she had been there for some time. She was a pretty brunette who looked about twenty.
- Excuse me, I said. I didn't notice you.
- That's okay, she replied and laughed. I didn't want to disturb you. What's that you've got there?
- Pan, I said. By Knut Hamsun.
- And you can read it? she said. What language is it in?
- I suppose Norwegian, I said. Or maybe Danish.
- You can't tell the difference? she said and raised her eyebrows.
- I expressed myself badly, I said. They were almost the same language in 1894. At least in novels.
- But you can read it? she asked again.
- Quite easily, I said. If I guess a few words. It's very beautiful. He has a unique way of writing. I wanted to tell her more about Hamsun's style, but she interrupted me.
- So what are you doing later today? she asked.
- Finishing this book, I said. I like to read a lot. She was standing too close to me. I shifted my position and stretched out my hand, knocking over a glass of water.
- I'm terribly sorry, I said. I was so embarrassed by my clumsiness that tears almost came into my eyes.
- It doesn't matter, she told me. She fetched a rag and mopped up the mess I'd made.
- Now what can I get you, she asked. A coffee? And I'll leave you alone with your book.
- A latte, I said. A few minutes later, she came back. She put down the coffee on the table with exaggerated care.
- You see, I'm not disturbing you, she said, and she patted my hand.
I sat and tried to read Pan, but I was unable to concentrate. I drank my coffee slowly and tried to think how to explain the charm of the writing. I realised that I didn't even know the waitress's name. After a while, I walked over to the counter. She was talking with an older man who looked like her boss.
- Coffee okay? she said. That's $4.10. I handed her a five. She gave back me the change. There was a little jar of coins in front of me with a sign saying BEER MONEY. I put my ninety cents in it.
- Thanks, she smiled.
- You know, I said, speaking a bit too quickly, I believe I can tell you what's special about Hamsun.
- Who? she said.
- The Norwegian who wrote the book I'm reading, I said.
- Oh, right, she said.
- It's the way he has of describing people, I explained. What they feel and what they see. You see, he can kind of--
- Sorry, she said. I'm in the middle of doing something with Mac here. Why don't you come back and tell me tomorrow?
I suddenly hated her. She had only pretended to be interested. I reached into the jar and took back my ninety cents. Her face crumpled as though I'd just slapped her. I immediately regretted what I had done.
- Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I said. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Can you forgive me?
- It's okay, she said after a few seconds. She tried to laugh, but I could see her boss staring at me.
I left without saying goodbye.
- Excuse me, I said. I didn't notice you.
- That's okay, she replied and laughed. I didn't want to disturb you. What's that you've got there?
- Pan, I said. By Knut Hamsun.
- And you can read it? she said. What language is it in?
- I suppose Norwegian, I said. Or maybe Danish.
- You can't tell the difference? she said and raised her eyebrows.
- I expressed myself badly, I said. They were almost the same language in 1894. At least in novels.
- But you can read it? she asked again.
- Quite easily, I said. If I guess a few words. It's very beautiful. He has a unique way of writing. I wanted to tell her more about Hamsun's style, but she interrupted me.
- So what are you doing later today? she asked.
- Finishing this book, I said. I like to read a lot. She was standing too close to me. I shifted my position and stretched out my hand, knocking over a glass of water.
- I'm terribly sorry, I said. I was so embarrassed by my clumsiness that tears almost came into my eyes.
- It doesn't matter, she told me. She fetched a rag and mopped up the mess I'd made.
- Now what can I get you, she asked. A coffee? And I'll leave you alone with your book.
- A latte, I said. A few minutes later, she came back. She put down the coffee on the table with exaggerated care.
- You see, I'm not disturbing you, she said, and she patted my hand.
I sat and tried to read Pan, but I was unable to concentrate. I drank my coffee slowly and tried to think how to explain the charm of the writing. I realised that I didn't even know the waitress's name. After a while, I walked over to the counter. She was talking with an older man who looked like her boss.
- Coffee okay? she said. That's $4.10. I handed her a five. She gave back me the change. There was a little jar of coins in front of me with a sign saying BEER MONEY. I put my ninety cents in it.
- Thanks, she smiled.
- You know, I said, speaking a bit too quickly, I believe I can tell you what's special about Hamsun.
- Who? she said.
- The Norwegian who wrote the book I'm reading, I said.
- Oh, right, she said.
- It's the way he has of describing people, I explained. What they feel and what they see. You see, he can kind of--
- Sorry, she said. I'm in the middle of doing something with Mac here. Why don't you come back and tell me tomorrow?
I suddenly hated her. She had only pretended to be interested. I reached into the jar and took back my ninety cents. Her face crumpled as though I'd just slapped her. I immediately regretted what I had done.
- Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I said. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Can you forgive me?
- It's okay, she said after a few seconds. She tried to laugh, but I could see her boss staring at me.
I left without saying goodbye.
September 7, 2025
Desolation… Melancholia… Nostalgia…
It all happened two years ago… It was spring… Now only the memories remain…
After this encounter some almost imperceptible shift occurred in the man’s soul… The god Pan is in his full power… All living things are in search of love… And soon the man’s heart is subdued… But instead of joy love brings torment… He behaves odiously…
Love is like a sheet lightning – now it’s here and then it’s gone.
In a white, roomy home down by the sea I met with one who busied my thoughts for a little time. I do not always think of her now; not any more. No; I have forgotten her. But I think of all the other things: the cry of the seabirds, my hunting in the woods, my nights, and all the warm hours of that summer. After all, it was only by the merest accident I happened to meet her; save for that, she would never have been in my thoughts for a day.
It all happened two years ago… It was spring… Now only the memories remain…
Edwarda looked at me and I at her. I felt at the moment something touching my heart like a little fleeting welcome. It must have been the spring, and the bright day; I have thought it over since. Also, I admired the curve of her eyebrows.
After this encounter some almost imperceptible shift occurred in the man’s soul… The god Pan is in his full power… All living things are in search of love… And soon the man’s heart is subdued… But instead of joy love brings torment… He behaves odiously…
She is not happy; there’s a deal of conflict in that little head of hers. When she stands looking out at the hills and the sea, and her mouth gives that little twitch, that little spasm of pain, then she is suffering; but she is too proud, too obstinate for tears. She is more than a bit romantic; a powerful imagination; she is waiting for a prince.
Love is like a sheet lightning – now it’s here and then it’s gone.
January 26, 2019
First published in 1894, Pan is an early example of the influence of psychology upon literature – certainly early for Scandinavian writers. The book is translated from the Norwegian. For the author this emphasis on psychology is very deliberate. Hamsun wrote to a friend and critic about his best-known book, Hunger (1890), “If we add it up, I don’t think you’d find more psychical emotions in Raskolnikov than in my book.”
In Hamsun’s case psychology shows up primarily as impulsiveness for reasons unknown to the actor. First, shortly after she has met the main character, the girl kisses him full on the lips in front of all the church ladies at a picnic – that raises eyebrows in a small village in mid-1800’s Norway. (Although a 28-year old man having an interest in a 15-year-old girl was apparently ok back then, even to her father, who encouraged the relationship. Later in the book we learn she lies about her age and may be older.) At another community event, two boats full of people are rowing back from another picnic on an island and he impulsively grabs her shoe and throws it into the water. He has no idea why he did this. Later, alone in his cabin, he impulsively shoots himself in the foot. She, in a fury for no obvious reason, tramples on a brooch another suitor had given her. Later he detonates an explosion that dislodges a huge rock, overturning a boat that results in someone’s death. (There are two murders in the book disguised as accidents.)
The other way psychology shows up is in the mutual stand-off-ishness of the young woman and the man who obviously love each other but seem to think that showing disinterest and even distain for the other will somehow ‘bring them around.’ So they avoid each other, insult each other, flirt with other people, and never get their act together. At one point he thinks “It occurred to me, moreover, that I had perhaps got closer to her precisely by treating her with scorn and indifference.”
The main character is a military officer living for a year in a rural hut in far northern Norway near the Arctic Circle. He must be on leave since he has no duties. He leads a primitive life, hunts with his dog every day, and communes with nature – a very Waldenesque existence: “The monotonous sighing of the wind and the familiar trees and stones mean much to me; I feel a strange sense of gratitude, everything reached out toward me, blends with me, I love all things.” Pan of the title is the half-goat Greek god of the wild, of nature, shepherds, flocks, mountains and the companion of nymphs.
The story is structured a bit like Russian dolls. It starts out as a memoir written by the main character “for his own amusement” a couple of years after the events. Why you would write about killing someone with an explosion is a psychological study in itself. And there is an epilogue, telling of the main character’s tragic death, written by a ‘friend’ who found the manuscript, and who says of the now-deceased main character: “[He] was in many ways an unusual and likeable man. In justice to him I must admit this, in spite of the fact that in my soul I still feel hostility toward [him] and the memory of him rouses my hatred.”
Hamsun won the Noble Prize in 1920. He’s best known for his work Hunger, about a poverty-stricken writer wandering through Oslo looking for his next meal. But Hamsun is not honored very much in Norway due to his collaboration with the Nazis during their occupation of the country in WW II. He actually met with Hitler, who thought of Hamsun as a ‘genius.’ Although the meeting turned into a shouting match, the author’s reputation never recovered in his home country and some Norwegians still consider him a traitor. (There’s a good article about Hamsun in the Dec. 26, 2005 Atlantic: “In From the Cold” by Jeffrey Frank from which I have taken some of the thoughts in this review.)
Actually a pretty good read for something written in 1894. Perhaps it’s the translation but it didn’t seem stilted or old-fashioned in writing style. A good but strange story.
Photo of Skudeneshavn, Norway from blog.routeperfect.com
Painting of the author by Alfredo Andersen from Wikipedia
In Hamsun’s case psychology shows up primarily as impulsiveness for reasons unknown to the actor. First, shortly after she has met the main character, the girl kisses him full on the lips in front of all the church ladies at a picnic – that raises eyebrows in a small village in mid-1800’s Norway. (Although a 28-year old man having an interest in a 15-year-old girl was apparently ok back then, even to her father, who encouraged the relationship. Later in the book we learn she lies about her age and may be older.) At another community event, two boats full of people are rowing back from another picnic on an island and he impulsively grabs her shoe and throws it into the water. He has no idea why he did this. Later, alone in his cabin, he impulsively shoots himself in the foot. She, in a fury for no obvious reason, tramples on a brooch another suitor had given her. Later he detonates an explosion that dislodges a huge rock, overturning a boat that results in someone’s death. (There are two murders in the book disguised as accidents.)
The other way psychology shows up is in the mutual stand-off-ishness of the young woman and the man who obviously love each other but seem to think that showing disinterest and even distain for the other will somehow ‘bring them around.’ So they avoid each other, insult each other, flirt with other people, and never get their act together. At one point he thinks “It occurred to me, moreover, that I had perhaps got closer to her precisely by treating her with scorn and indifference.”
The main character is a military officer living for a year in a rural hut in far northern Norway near the Arctic Circle. He must be on leave since he has no duties. He leads a primitive life, hunts with his dog every day, and communes with nature – a very Waldenesque existence: “The monotonous sighing of the wind and the familiar trees and stones mean much to me; I feel a strange sense of gratitude, everything reached out toward me, blends with me, I love all things.” Pan of the title is the half-goat Greek god of the wild, of nature, shepherds, flocks, mountains and the companion of nymphs.
The story is structured a bit like Russian dolls. It starts out as a memoir written by the main character “for his own amusement” a couple of years after the events. Why you would write about killing someone with an explosion is a psychological study in itself. And there is an epilogue, telling of the main character’s tragic death, written by a ‘friend’ who found the manuscript, and who says of the now-deceased main character: “[He] was in many ways an unusual and likeable man. In justice to him I must admit this, in spite of the fact that in my soul I still feel hostility toward [him] and the memory of him rouses my hatred.”
Hamsun won the Noble Prize in 1920. He’s best known for his work Hunger, about a poverty-stricken writer wandering through Oslo looking for his next meal. But Hamsun is not honored very much in Norway due to his collaboration with the Nazis during their occupation of the country in WW II. He actually met with Hitler, who thought of Hamsun as a ‘genius.’ Although the meeting turned into a shouting match, the author’s reputation never recovered in his home country and some Norwegians still consider him a traitor. (There’s a good article about Hamsun in the Dec. 26, 2005 Atlantic: “In From the Cold” by Jeffrey Frank from which I have taken some of the thoughts in this review.)
Actually a pretty good read for something written in 1894. Perhaps it’s the translation but it didn’t seem stilted or old-fashioned in writing style. A good but strange story.
Photo of Skudeneshavn, Norway from blog.routeperfect.com
Painting of the author by Alfredo Andersen from Wikipedia
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September 4, 2023
-I love a dream of love I once had, I love you, and I love this patch of earth.
-And which do you love best?
-The dream.
With his succinct 1894 novel, Pan, Knut Hamsun once again displays his prowess of capturing the human psychology and detailing the internal conflicts that arise through the sudden rise and fall of moods. Through Glahn, the capricious man who has taken up residence within the northern wilderness and the socialite Edvarda, Hamsun demonstrates how even the slightest romantic collision of two souls can create a spark whose burn is felt long after the romance has begun to smolder. The irrationalities that exist in such a torrid affair between man and woman come alive in his prose and fiery dialogue as the reader experiences the pains and paranoia of chasing after an elusive lover.
Appearing in print only two years after Mysteries, an incredible account of an irrational stranger much like Glahn (and my favorite of his books), Hamsun appears much more matured, confidant and focused in his writing. While Mysteries was slightly bloated, Pan is trimmed down to a potent simplicity and directness. Returning to the first person narration similar to Hunger, the reader is treated to a troubled and unreliable mind to lead them through this tragic love story. The first section of the novel is Glahn’s journal, which he insists was purely ‘ to while away the time’ and amuse himself, shows him reflecting on the events of a previous summer. While he repeatedly mentions that Edvarda no longer crosses his mind, he continuously winds his way back to her in his accounts. The second section, written from an acquaintance of Glahn’s a year a short time after the journal, offers a slightly different image of the man. While Glahn portrays himself as socially inept, unattractive and clumsy, the second narrator displays him as a powerful foreign force in the world with a charm and chiseled looks that make him irresistible to women.
As the title would imply, this is a story of the forest with Glahn as a ‘Pan’ of sorts. He is a perfect blend of man and nature, coexisting with the wild in perfect harmony. While he is a hunter, he only kills what he must for bare survival, never taking more than what he needs to eat in the immediate future. He is also seemingly superhumanly in-tuned with nature, being able to tell the exact time through the flowers and trees and seemingly able to commune with the land on which he dwells. While his descriptions of society and the people he interacts with are exceedingly simplistic, the true prose of the novel blossoms in his depictions of nature and the reader feels the glowing sun, hears the rushing waters and smells the trees and grass through his words. In a novel of love and lust, the intimate scenes between him and his various lovers occur primarily offstage while the sexual imagery is reserved for nature:
He is Hamsun’s image of pure masculinity and a ideal blend of both creative and destructive powers, a mythical being both beast and man. Hamsun decorates the novel with allusions to fables, the most obvious the name of Glahn’s dog, Aesop, to help bring this idea of Pan alive in a realistic setting.
If Glahn is a symbol of the wild, then Edvarda is a symbol of society. She is well of high standings both financially and socially, playing hostess to many soirees and moving between multiple suitors. The pair are doomed from the start as Hamsun illustrates the infinite divide between well groomed society and the primal realm of the wild. Glahn is at ease in the forest, yet feels completely awkward and ill at ease in social settings and displays bizarre behavior and strange outbursts. Edvarda is a creature of irrationality as well, playing men off of one another and escaping into the wilderness in secret to satisfy more basic instincts of passions under the cover of night.
The frustration felt by Glahn as he grapples with his passion practically chokes the reader. He is just as in-tune with the body language of others as he is with nature, and is constantly analyzing Edvarda in social settings. In the forest, she goes wild with emotion, yet in society she is cold, calculating and inaccessible. She dismisses his advances yet keeps him on the line with one sweet smile or insistence that he be the last to leave, yet refuses to let on to any romantic entanglement in the company of others. It is a blockage of passion that crushes souls and forces one to act out if only to be acknowledged. Always being one with nature, the romance is played out with the seasons with fall darkening the tone of the novel and ushering us towards certain chilly doom and destruction.
Never has there been an author whose words have sung better harmony to the melody of my soul as Hamsun. His characters come alive wonderfully through his careful prose and marvelously plotted out shifts and moods. This is a novel for anyone who has loved, anyone who has lost, and anyone who has squirmed in frustration over a ill-fated tryst. Despite the meager size of the novel, Pan is another knock out and delivers just as much emotional impact and literary brilliance as Hamsun’s other novels while being much warmer and heartfelt than his previous works while setting the grounds for a further investigation of the rift between nature and society that he explores in Growth of the Soil. Satisfy your primal instincts and enter the dark forest of Hamsun’s mind. The dream of love always burns brighter than the loves we use to bandage our wounds.
4.5/5
A quick note on the translation
I read the James W. McFarlane translation, an older translation published by Noonday (of which Goodreads seems not to have in their various editions). While it still delivers, I would direct anyone towards a different translator. The newer Penguin edition would probably be a better choice. While Hamsun’s poetic might is strong enough to punch through, I felt I was missing some of the flow that I glimpsed in his other books. It was as if McFarlane was hitting all the right notes, but not letting them truly flow.
-And which do you love best?
-The dream.
With his succinct 1894 novel, Pan, Knut Hamsun once again displays his prowess of capturing the human psychology and detailing the internal conflicts that arise through the sudden rise and fall of moods. Through Glahn, the capricious man who has taken up residence within the northern wilderness and the socialite Edvarda, Hamsun demonstrates how even the slightest romantic collision of two souls can create a spark whose burn is felt long after the romance has begun to smolder. The irrationalities that exist in such a torrid affair between man and woman come alive in his prose and fiery dialogue as the reader experiences the pains and paranoia of chasing after an elusive lover.
Appearing in print only two years after Mysteries, an incredible account of an irrational stranger much like Glahn (and my favorite of his books), Hamsun appears much more matured, confidant and focused in his writing. While Mysteries was slightly bloated, Pan is trimmed down to a potent simplicity and directness. Returning to the first person narration similar to Hunger, the reader is treated to a troubled and unreliable mind to lead them through this tragic love story. The first section of the novel is Glahn’s journal, which he insists was purely ‘ to while away the time’ and amuse himself, shows him reflecting on the events of a previous summer. While he repeatedly mentions that Edvarda no longer crosses his mind, he continuously winds his way back to her in his accounts. The second section, written from an acquaintance of Glahn’s a year a short time after the journal, offers a slightly different image of the man. While Glahn portrays himself as socially inept, unattractive and clumsy, the second narrator displays him as a powerful foreign force in the world with a charm and chiseled looks that make him irresistible to women.
As the title would imply, this is a story of the forest with Glahn as a ‘Pan’ of sorts. He is a perfect blend of man and nature, coexisting with the wild in perfect harmony. While he is a hunter, he only kills what he must for bare survival, never taking more than what he needs to eat in the immediate future. He is also seemingly superhumanly in-tuned with nature, being able to tell the exact time through the flowers and trees and seemingly able to commune with the land on which he dwells. While his descriptions of society and the people he interacts with are exceedingly simplistic, the true prose of the novel blossoms in his depictions of nature and the reader feels the glowing sun, hears the rushing waters and smells the trees and grass through his words. In a novel of love and lust, the intimate scenes between him and his various lovers occur primarily offstage while the sexual imagery is reserved for nature:
’In the night hours of the forest, great white flowers have suddenly opened out, their chalices spread wide, and they breathe. And furry hawk-moths bury themselves in their petals and set the whole plant quivering. I go from flower to flower; they are in ecstasy, and I see their intoxication.’
He is Hamsun’s image of pure masculinity and a ideal blend of both creative and destructive powers, a mythical being both beast and man. Hamsun decorates the novel with allusions to fables, the most obvious the name of Glahn’s dog, Aesop, to help bring this idea of Pan alive in a realistic setting.
If Glahn is a symbol of the wild, then Edvarda is a symbol of society. She is well of high standings both financially and socially, playing hostess to many soirees and moving between multiple suitors. The pair are doomed from the start as Hamsun illustrates the infinite divide between well groomed society and the primal realm of the wild. Glahn is at ease in the forest, yet feels completely awkward and ill at ease in social settings and displays bizarre behavior and strange outbursts. Edvarda is a creature of irrationality as well, playing men off of one another and escaping into the wilderness in secret to satisfy more basic instincts of passions under the cover of night.
The frustration felt by Glahn as he grapples with his passion practically chokes the reader. He is just as in-tune with the body language of others as he is with nature, and is constantly analyzing Edvarda in social settings. In the forest, she goes wild with emotion, yet in society she is cold, calculating and inaccessible. She dismisses his advances yet keeps him on the line with one sweet smile or insistence that he be the last to leave, yet refuses to let on to any romantic entanglement in the company of others. It is a blockage of passion that crushes souls and forces one to act out if only to be acknowledged. Always being one with nature, the romance is played out with the seasons with fall darkening the tone of the novel and ushering us towards certain chilly doom and destruction.
Never has there been an author whose words have sung better harmony to the melody of my soul as Hamsun. His characters come alive wonderfully through his careful prose and marvelously plotted out shifts and moods. This is a novel for anyone who has loved, anyone who has lost, and anyone who has squirmed in frustration over a ill-fated tryst. Despite the meager size of the novel, Pan is another knock out and delivers just as much emotional impact and literary brilliance as Hamsun’s other novels while being much warmer and heartfelt than his previous works while setting the grounds for a further investigation of the rift between nature and society that he explores in Growth of the Soil. Satisfy your primal instincts and enter the dark forest of Hamsun’s mind. The dream of love always burns brighter than the loves we use to bandage our wounds.
4.5/5
A quick note on the translation
I read the James W. McFarlane translation, an older translation published by Noonday (of which Goodreads seems not to have in their various editions). While it still delivers, I would direct anyone towards a different translator. The newer Penguin edition would probably be a better choice. While Hamsun’s poetic might is strong enough to punch through, I felt I was missing some of the flow that I glimpsed in his other books. It was as if McFarlane was hitting all the right notes, but not letting them truly flow.
January 15, 2022
'And the leaves turn yellower, autumn is approaching, more stars have appeared in the sky, and the moon now begins to look like a shadow of silver dipped in gold. There was no frost, nothing, only a cool stillness and an abundance of life in the forest'
Writing of his new novel in a letter from Paris, in 1893, Knut Hamsun noted, "My new book will be beautiful; it takes place in Nordland, a quiet and red love story. There will be no polemics in it, just people under different skies." He did indeed live up to his letter, it's precisely that.
The Scandinavian wilderness comes alive so vividly, and there is something in the narrative that almost makes it read like a mystical fable, or even a dream within a dream.
Set deep in the forests of Norway, it follows Lt. Glahn in a deeply psychological form as he struggles to juggle his unity with nature and the feelings and experiences that defines humanity. Told in the first person he comes across as a figure of immense complexity. Enigmatic, intriguing, and carrying within him a deep melancholy. First off, I loved the straightforward narration, it's lyrical and beautifully told, sometimes in the present tense, sometimes contemplative and poetic. The story is breathtaking in its simplicity , but also strangely compelling, and so effective. Like Hamsun's words are growing from tiny seeds sewn into the earth, leaving a trail on the forest floor for the reader to follow.
Glahn is a hunter who with his dog, lives in a small hut buried in the Norwegian woods. He's closer to nature than he is to culture, and his descriptions of the natural world turns the forest into a character itself. "....I'm filled with a mysterious gratitude; everything befriends me, intermingles with me, I love all things. I pick up a dry twig, hold it in my hand and look at it as I sit there having my own thoughts. The twig is nearly rotten, its poor bark affects me, pity stirring my heart. And when I get up to go, I do not throw the twig away but lay it down and stand there feeling sorry for it." There are some achingly beautiful passages of writing, especially when Glahn is in solitude, and he is a bundle of changing emotions, with his soul rising before sinking again into a dark mood. He may have compassion for the surrounding landscapes, but when it comes to people, it's a different story. He would end up in an affair with a young woman, Eva, but shows little genuine affection for her. Like he would rather be off in the woods, making love to a log.
There is also the character of Edvarda, who is somewhat shadowy, almost like a figure seen through a slightly opaque veil. She seems unreal, and the motives behind most of her actions are inexplicable. Between the lines, there seems to be a battle between the sexes. Glahn being romantically awkward, expresses his passions for Edvarda in a way that is both fervent and hateful. You kind of want him to disappear off into the wilderness and be happy on his own. There is something in the way Hamsun writes that compels his reader onward, a spellbinding effect that not many writers can reach. Pan could be read many times, and probably should, each time retaining all its seductive charm from that first encounter.
By its finale, things are complicated somewhat, casting more light on Glahn's apparent self-destructiveness. You kind of start to realise that he is a rather unsavory character, the sorrow and likable tendencies from earlier on starts to suffer from fatigue. Throughout, the actions of Glahn are sometimes hard to fathom, and his relations with women were frustrating to me as a reader. This clearly isn't meant to read like a conventional story, and even though on the outside it's easy to read, Hamsun does require the reader to think long and hard on what is happening.
When in poetic flow with his stunning descriptions of nature, he really does hit the heights, I just would have liked there to be more of it. And at times the other characters mystified me. Having said that, this was my favourite of the four Hamsun books read so far. Just wish I could have had a gathering of trees for company.
February 22, 2017
"Εξελίσσεται στην περιοχή της Νορλάνδης, μια ήσυχη και κόκκινη ιστορία αγάπης. Δεν θα βρεθούν πολέμιοι σε αυτό, παρά μόνο άνθρωποι κάτω από διαφορετικούς ουρανούς’’.
Κνουτ Χάμσουν.
Μια απλή και μυστικιστική ιστορία αγάπης ξετυλίγεται σε μια ερημική,παραθαλάσσια νορβηγική κωμόπολη.
Όσα διαδραματίζονται επηρεάζονται απο τις περιφορές του ήλιου και της σελήνης.απο τις εναλλαγές των εποχών της φύσης,απο το φως και το σκοτάδι των ανεξέλεγκτων ερωτικών αισθημάτων που μοιραία δεν χαλιναγωγούνται και διαβρώνουν κάθε μορφή λογικής.
Τα καιρικά φαινόμενα και η έντονη σκιά του τραγοπόδαρου θεού Παν ξυπνούν τα άναρχα αισθήματα της καρδιάς και τις ακατάσχετες αφυπνίσεις του σώματος.
Γυναίκες και άνδρες υπακούν στους θεούς της φύσης κι ενώ δείχνουν υποταγμένοι στα κοινωνικά ηθικά στερεότυπα,στην ουσία εξουσιάζονται απο τις γενετήσιες ορμές και τις ηδονές που τους προκαλεί η λαγνεία του φύλου τους.
Ο νεαρός λοχαγός Γκλάν λατρεύει τη φύση για την απέραντη γαλήνη και μοναξιά που του προσφέρει.
Έχει αφιερωθεί στη μοναχική και ανέμελη ζωή του,
ζει μόνο για το παρόν,κυνηγάει καθημερινά παρέα με τον πιστό του σκύλο Αίσωπο για να επιβιώσει και βασική του ασχολία είναι να ονειροπολεί.
Αυτή η απολίτιστα ελεύθερη ζωή στη φύση του έχει δημιουργήσει κάποιες κοινωνικές αναπηρίες σε σχέση με τις ανθρώπινες συναναστροφές.
Αυτός ο άνδρας πέφτει θύμα της ερωτικής παγίδας που του στήνει η Εδουάρδα και ξεκινάει μια παράλογη και τραγική αγάπη.
Το πάθος και η ερωτική έλξη είναι αμοιβαία μεταξύ τους. Η ζήλεια και η απόγνωση της περιφρόνησης βασανίζει και τους δυο. Είναι εκ διαμέτρου αντίθετοι χαρακτήρες,με διαφορετικές κοινωνικές θέσεις και εμπειρίες. Η χρονική στιγμή της γνωριμίας τους δεν είναι η πλέον κατάλληλη για να ωριμάσει μια παράφορη αγάπη.
Όμως στο μοιραίο και το νομοτελειακό κανείς δεν μπορεί να αντισταθεί,ούτε να ξεφύγει όσο κι αν το παλέψει. Αν καταφέρει να αποδράσει απο την φυσική εξέλιξη του πάθους καταστρέφεται, βυθίζεται στην ανυπαρξία και τη ματαιότητα.
Όσο κι αν οι συνθήκες συνηγορούν στο να εμπλακούν εγωιστικά εμπόδια γεμάτα πείσμα και δυσκολίες και να αποτρέψουν αυτή την μοιραία ερωτική σχέση με σκοπό την τήρηση των ηθικών αναλογιών, το αποτελέσμα του χωρισμού θα ειναι μη αναστρέψιμο...
Ποιος μπορεί να επιβάλει ηθική και πρέπουσα συμπεριφορά στη Συμπαντική-θεϊκή ερωτική ένωση δυο ανθρώπων;
Έστω κι αν τίποτα δεν συνηγορεί υπέρ τους απο τους ανθρώπινους κανόνες,η ανυπακοή θα αποτελεί αιώνια ύβρη και τρομερή δυστυχία.
Η ευμετάβλητη και ονειπαρμένη "πριγκίπισσα" Εδουάρδα και ο τρυφερός λάτρης του έρωτα Γκλάν συναντιούνται σε λάθος τόπο και χρόνο τη λάθος στιγμή.
Μύθοι και συμβολισμοί μπερδεύονται στη γέννηση αυτού του μεγάλου έρωτα. Η τρέλα του πάθους και ο ίλλιγος της σαρκικής ηδονής καθορίζουν μοιραία τη ζωή τους.
Οι εποχές και το μεγαλείο της νορβηγικής φύσης επηρεάζουν και εναλλάσσουν συναισθηματικές και κοινωνικές καταστάσεις με γνώμονα τα διλήμματα που γεννιούνται στο μυαλό των ερωτευμένων.
Ο θεός Πάνας επιβάλλεται και τους οδηγεί στο παράλογο,το αυθόρμητο και το ασυνείδητο. Οι συγκρούσεις έρχονται ανάμεσα σε φύση και πολιτισμό.
Παλεύουν να επιβληθούν τα κοινωνικά πρότυπα και οι ηθικές επιταγές.
Αρχικά η άνοιξη και το καλοκαίρι του Έρωτα φέρνουν λάμψη,ευτυχία και πληρότητα. Όταν όμως έρχονται το φθινόπωρο και ο χειμώνας φέρνουν την κατάθλιψη,τον εγωισμό και την ψυχολογική επιβάρυνση που μετατρέπουν την αγάπη σε εμμονή και το πάθος σε μίσος.
"Αγαπώ όλα τα πράγματα…. Αγαπώ ένα αγαπημένο όνειρο που είχα κάποτε, σ’ αγαπώ, και αγαπώ αυτή τη γωνιά της γης’.
‘Και ποιόν αγαπάς περισσότερο’, τον ρωτά
‘Το όνειρο’, απαντάει εκείνος".
Καλή ανάγνωση
Πολλούς ασπασμούς!
Κνουτ Χάμσουν.
Μια απλή και μυστικιστική ιστορία αγάπης ξετυλίγεται σε μια ερημική,παραθαλάσσια νορβηγική κωμόπολη.
Όσα διαδραματίζονται επηρεάζονται απο τις περιφορές του ήλιου και της σελήνης.απο τις εναλλαγές των εποχών της φύσης,απο το φως και το σκοτάδι των ανεξέλεγκτων ερωτικών αισθημάτων που μοιραία δεν χαλιναγωγούνται και διαβρώνουν κάθε μορφή λογικής.
Τα καιρικά φαινόμενα και η έντονη σκιά του τραγοπόδαρου θεού Παν ξυπνούν τα άναρχα αισθήματα της καρδιάς και τις ακατάσχετες αφυπνίσεις του σώματος.
Γυναίκες και άνδρες υπακούν στους θεούς της φύσης κι ενώ δείχνουν υποταγμένοι στα κοινωνικά ηθικά στερεότυπα,στην ουσία εξουσιάζονται απο τις γενετήσιες ορμές και τις ηδονές που τους προκαλεί η λαγνεία του φύλου τους.
Ο νεαρός λοχαγός Γκλάν λατρεύει τη φύση για την απέραντη γαλήνη και μοναξιά που του προσφέρει.
Έχει αφιερωθεί στη μοναχική και ανέμελη ζωή του,
ζει μόνο για το παρόν,κυνηγάει καθημερινά παρέα με τον πιστό του σκύλο Αίσωπο για να επιβιώσει και βασική του ασχολία είναι να ονειροπολεί.
Αυτή η απολίτιστα ελεύθερη ζωή στη φύση του έχει δημιουργήσει κάποιες κοινωνικές αναπηρίες σε σχέση με τις ανθρώπινες συναναστροφές.
Αυτός ο άνδρας πέφτει θύμα της ερωτικής παγίδας που του στήνει η Εδουάρδα και ξεκινάει μια παράλογη και τραγική αγάπη.
Το πάθος και η ερωτική έλξη είναι αμοιβαία μεταξύ τους. Η ζήλεια και η απόγνωση της περιφρόνησης βασανίζει και τους δυο. Είναι εκ διαμέτρου αντίθετοι χαρακτήρες,με διαφορετικές κοινωνικές θέσεις και εμπειρίες. Η χρονική στιγμή της γνωριμίας τους δεν είναι η πλέον κατάλληλη για να ωριμάσει μια παράφορη αγάπη.
Όμως στο μοιραίο και το νομοτελειακό κανείς δεν μπορεί να αντισταθεί,ούτε να ξεφύγει όσο κι αν το παλέψει. Αν καταφέρει να αποδράσει απο την φυσική εξέλιξη του πάθους καταστρέφεται, βυθίζεται στην ανυπαρξία και τη ματαιότητα.
Όσο κι αν οι συνθήκες συνηγορούν στο να εμπλακούν εγωιστικά εμπόδια γεμάτα πείσμα και δυσκολίες και να αποτρέψουν αυτή την μοιραία ερωτική σχέση με σκοπό την τήρηση των ηθικών αναλογιών, το αποτελέσμα του χωρισμού θα ειναι μη αναστρέψιμο...
Ποιος μπορεί να επιβάλει ηθική και πρέπουσα συμπεριφορά στη Συμπαντική-θεϊκή ερωτική ένωση δυο ανθρώπων;
Έστω κι αν τίποτα δεν συνηγορεί υπέρ τους απο τους ανθρώπινους κανόνες,η ανυπακοή θα αποτελεί αιώνια ύβρη και τρομερή δυστυχία.
Η ευμετάβλητη και ονειπαρμένη "πριγκίπισσα" Εδουάρδα και ο τρυφερός λάτρης του έρωτα Γκλάν συναντιούνται σε λάθος τόπο και χρόνο τη λάθος στιγμή.
Μύθοι και συμβολισμοί μπερδεύονται στη γέννηση αυτού του μεγάλου έρωτα. Η τρέλα του πάθους και ο ίλλιγος της σαρκικής ηδονής καθορίζουν μοιραία τη ζωή τους.
Οι εποχές και το μεγαλείο της νορβηγικής φύσης επηρεάζουν και εναλλάσσουν συναισθηματικές και κοινωνικές καταστάσεις με γνώμονα τα διλήμματα που γεννιούνται στο μυαλό των ερωτευμένων.
Ο θεός Πάνας επιβάλλεται και τους οδηγεί στο παράλογο,το αυθόρμητο και το ασυνείδητο. Οι συγκρούσεις έρχονται ανάμεσα σε φύση και πολιτισμό.
Παλεύουν να επιβληθούν τα κοινωνικά πρότυπα και οι ηθικές επιταγές.
Αρχικά η άνοιξη και το καλοκαίρι του Έρωτα φέρνουν λάμψη,ευτυχία και πληρότητα. Όταν όμως έρχονται το φθινόπωρο και ο χειμώνας φέρνουν την κατάθλιψη,τον εγωισμό και την ψυχολογική επιβάρυνση που μετατρέπουν την αγάπη σε εμμονή και το πάθος σε μίσος.
"Αγαπώ όλα τα πράγματα…. Αγαπώ ένα αγαπημένο όνειρο που είχα κάποτε, σ’ αγαπώ, και αγαπώ αυτή τη γωνιά της γης’.
‘Και ποιόν αγαπάς περισσότερο’, τον ρωτά
‘Το όνειρο’, απαντάει εκείνος".
Καλή ανάγνωση
Πολλούς ασπασμούς!
August 27, 2012
As if you needed to revisit it, friends, yet here it is: Hamsun's excruciatingly true-to-life depiction of the exaltation and despair of young love. In his later years, the novelist Anthony Burgess had a pat blurb for certain novels he liked. Of them he would say: "Almost unbearably moving!" That blurb applies perfectly to Pan. This novella is so emotionally affecting! It is so on the money! The reader goes through the entire exhausting emotional cycle here. From initial lusting, to growing interest, to first titallations of physical contact, to record-breaking Olympic coitus, to a sense of routine and boredom, to the first bickerings of leave taking, to heartbreak, heartbreak, heartbreak and yearning that only makes one's suffering worse. The novella is mercifully short--120 pages. I simply can't imagine 300 pages of this. It's brilliance lies in how it neatly crystallizes the entire range of emotions experienced in erotic love affairs. The magnificent heights of lovemaking, the impossible megalomania of it all, to the lowest lows. That it's set in northern Norway and narrated by a man who lives in a bucolic setting with his hunting dog, all that's interesting too. The man, Lt. Glahn, records his trips into the woods to hunt. There's beautiful description of the Norwegian countryside that reminded me of Per Petterson and Hallidór Laxness, though the latter was an Icelander. Glahn's love object is a silly fickle girl-child called Edvarda. My God, the hatred! The vindictiveness they mete out to each other! Finally, the book is about how such "love" changes us forever. It's a life event for which there is no closure. We become, all of us, the walking wounded. Quite a story. Highly recommended.
March 26, 2025
'Pan' is a story of a triple conflict; first of all, it is the inner conflict Glahn, the protagonist, suffers from. Besides, the love Glahn has for Edvarda is more a conflict than anything else because it is full of misunderstanding, passion and cruelty. And, finally, there is a global conflict between the primal forces of nature and civilization.
What impressed me most was not the love story but the vivid and poetic descriptions of the natural world, the raw beauty of the Norwegian wilderness mirroring the protagonist's inner turmoil.
As for the portrayal of Glahn who can only be happy when he is alone in the nature, and his painful and complicated relationships with other people, I am afraid, it did not resonate with me although I admit that 'Pan' is an outstanding work.
'It was not loneliness that I felt; it was a sweet, peculiar sense of being alone with nature, at one with the trees, the birds, and the sky.'
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'The other one he loved like a slave, like a madman and like a beggar. Why? Ask the dust on the road and the falling leaves, ask the mysterious God of life; for no one knows such things. She gave him nothing, no nothing did she give him and yet he thanked her. She said: Give me your peace and your reason! And he was only sorry she did not ask for his life.'
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'You are right; I am not good at moving in society. Be merciful. You do not understand me; I live in the woods by choice--that is my happiness. Here, where I am all alone, it can hurt no one that I am as I am; but when I go among others, I have to use all my will power to be as I should.'
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'A shaft of sweetness shoots through me from top to toe when the sun rises; I shoulder my gun in silent exaltation.'
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'Gladness is intoxicating. I fire my gun and an unforgettable echo answers from crag to crag, floats out over the sea and rings in some sleepless helmsman’s ears. What am I glad about? A thought that comes to me, a memory, a sound in the forest, a human being. I think of her—I close my eyes and stand still on the road and think of her, counting the minutes.'
What impressed me most was not the love story but the vivid and poetic descriptions of the natural world, the raw beauty of the Norwegian wilderness mirroring the protagonist's inner turmoil.
As for the portrayal of Glahn who can only be happy when he is alone in the nature, and his painful and complicated relationships with other people, I am afraid, it did not resonate with me although I admit that 'Pan' is an outstanding work.
'It was not loneliness that I felt; it was a sweet, peculiar sense of being alone with nature, at one with the trees, the birds, and the sky.'
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
'The other one he loved like a slave, like a madman and like a beggar. Why? Ask the dust on the road and the falling leaves, ask the mysterious God of life; for no one knows such things. She gave him nothing, no nothing did she give him and yet he thanked her. She said: Give me your peace and your reason! And he was only sorry she did not ask for his life.'
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
'You are right; I am not good at moving in society. Be merciful. You do not understand me; I live in the woods by choice--that is my happiness. Here, where I am all alone, it can hurt no one that I am as I am; but when I go among others, I have to use all my will power to be as I should.'
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
'A shaft of sweetness shoots through me from top to toe when the sun rises; I shoulder my gun in silent exaltation.'
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
'Gladness is intoxicating. I fire my gun and an unforgettable echo answers from crag to crag, floats out over the sea and rings in some sleepless helmsman’s ears. What am I glad about? A thought that comes to me, a memory, a sound in the forest, a human being. I think of her—I close my eyes and stand still on the road and think of her, counting the minutes.'
December 4, 2017
Vita nel bosco
Hamsun, grandissimo scrittore norvegese Premio Nobel 1920, è un cantore della natura nordica come luogo idilliaco ove l'uomo potrebbe vivere in condizione di totale armonia e in una dimensione di panismo e sensibilità ecologica. Ma l'individuo è portatore di qualcosa d'inestricabile, pertanto deve fare i conti sempre con se stesso.
Il romanzo è ambientato nell'estate 1857 ; di fatto però è come fosse avulso da un preciso tempo storico.
La rappresentazione della natura splende di nitida bellezza, con una scrittura di giovinezza inalterata.
Il protagonista, un tenente trentenne, vive in una capanna posta sul terreno scosceso tra l'immenso bosco e il mare: un ruscello, "uno squarcio azzurro fra le nubi. Non serve di più". Destarsi all'alba significa partecipare alla gioia che gli animali del bosco tributano al sorgere del giorno : "gli uccelli marini cominciano a svegliarsi giù agli scogli, i loro gridi entrano dalle finestre aperte. Un'ondata di gioia mi percorse", afferma il nostro personaggio.
Pur in una situazione di tale incanto, che spesso totalmente lo pervade, egli presenta tratti oscuri, pulsioni improvvise talvolta lesive.
La capanna in cui abita, inoltre, non è l'eremo di un monaco ; due donne alternativamente vi si affacciano: una si dà, l'altra si nega. E, in questioni amorose del genere, il negarsi assume il potere maggiore.
Il libro, scritto a fine '800 con uno stile modernissimo, non si pone 'scientificamente' nella visuale della psicologia dei comportamenti (siamo in un periodo pre-freudiano). L'acutezza e la profondità d'intuizione dello scrittore, però, rendono un pregio letterario tale condizione culturale, libera dalle strettoie dei condizionamenti interpretativi.
L'inaspettato epilogo (situato a distanza di alcuni anni) getta uno squarcio di luce sui fatti pregressi, che compongono retrospettivamente una parziale chiave di comprensione per ciò che avverrà, dando così maggior respiro all'opera.
Il testo si legge come se si ascoltasse una sinfonia : dapprima la grandiosa lentezza del fluire delle parole contornate di silenzio, poi il ritmo degli accadimenti si fa progressivamente incalzante, per giungere con rinnovato impeto all'inaspettato finale.
Hamsun, grandissimo scrittore norvegese Premio Nobel 1920, è un cantore della natura nordica come luogo idilliaco ove l'uomo potrebbe vivere in condizione di totale armonia e in una dimensione di panismo e sensibilità ecologica. Ma l'individuo è portatore di qualcosa d'inestricabile, pertanto deve fare i conti sempre con se stesso.
Il romanzo è ambientato nell'estate 1857 ; di fatto però è come fosse avulso da un preciso tempo storico.
La rappresentazione della natura splende di nitida bellezza, con una scrittura di giovinezza inalterata.
Il protagonista, un tenente trentenne, vive in una capanna posta sul terreno scosceso tra l'immenso bosco e il mare: un ruscello, "uno squarcio azzurro fra le nubi. Non serve di più". Destarsi all'alba significa partecipare alla gioia che gli animali del bosco tributano al sorgere del giorno : "gli uccelli marini cominciano a svegliarsi giù agli scogli, i loro gridi entrano dalle finestre aperte. Un'ondata di gioia mi percorse", afferma il nostro personaggio.
Pur in una situazione di tale incanto, che spesso totalmente lo pervade, egli presenta tratti oscuri, pulsioni improvvise talvolta lesive.
La capanna in cui abita, inoltre, non è l'eremo di un monaco ; due donne alternativamente vi si affacciano: una si dà, l'altra si nega. E, in questioni amorose del genere, il negarsi assume il potere maggiore.
Il libro, scritto a fine '800 con uno stile modernissimo, non si pone 'scientificamente' nella visuale della psicologia dei comportamenti (siamo in un periodo pre-freudiano). L'acutezza e la profondità d'intuizione dello scrittore, però, rendono un pregio letterario tale condizione culturale, libera dalle strettoie dei condizionamenti interpretativi.
L'inaspettato epilogo (situato a distanza di alcuni anni) getta uno squarcio di luce sui fatti pregressi, che compongono retrospettivamente una parziale chiave di comprensione per ciò che avverrà, dando così maggior respiro all'opera.
Il testo si legge come se si ascoltasse una sinfonia : dapprima la grandiosa lentezza del fluire delle parole contornate di silenzio, poi il ritmo degli accadimenti si fa progressivamente incalzante, per giungere con rinnovato impeto all'inaspettato finale.
May 29, 2019
A cautionary tale: Sometimes it's not a great idea to reread a favorite book from teen days. I can understand why I liked this so much way back when: It features a loner, a hunter living along the coast of Norway, who is in tune with the woods and the stars and the sea. Norway in a Key of Thoreau, in other words. What's not to like?
In the second reading at a much more advantaged (as a reader) age: a lot, turns out. For instance, the jejune back-and-forth between Nimrod type Lieutenant Glahn and his love interest, still-a-teenager-or-maybe-twenty-tops, Edvarda. Maddening to read.
And Glahn himself, once he is taken out of the elemental world of nature and thrust into society, is a clod and an idiot and an embarrassment. In one scene he takes Edvarda's shoe and chucks it in the ocean to get attention. This on a boat filled with partiers who, of course, are shocked.
Oh, I admit to laughing when he approached a rival for Edvarda's attention, leaned over, and spit in his ear. It's so over-the-top (and down-the-ear-canal) that it's a bit of a hoot.
But after that, things get really dark with Glahn. And reprehensible, as in, you don't go there. You don't do that. And if he does, you probably don't want to read about it.
Perhaps this is part of my own evolution as a reader. As I read increasing amounts of poetry and nonfiction, I find myself less patient with the games fiction plays. My eyes roll more and more. My patience stretches thin. If I wore a watch, I'd be looking at it too much while reading books like this.
But still, the silver lining: the descriptions of Norway's woods, the life of a loner in a hut surrounded by the myth of a Garden of Eden. Too bad the whole thing's snakebit.
In the second reading at a much more advantaged (as a reader) age: a lot, turns out. For instance, the jejune back-and-forth between Nimrod type Lieutenant Glahn and his love interest, still-a-teenager-or-maybe-twenty-tops, Edvarda. Maddening to read.
And Glahn himself, once he is taken out of the elemental world of nature and thrust into society, is a clod and an idiot and an embarrassment. In one scene he takes Edvarda's shoe and chucks it in the ocean to get attention. This on a boat filled with partiers who, of course, are shocked.
Oh, I admit to laughing when he approached a rival for Edvarda's attention, leaned over, and spit in his ear. It's so over-the-top (and down-the-ear-canal) that it's a bit of a hoot.
But after that, things get really dark with Glahn. And reprehensible, as in, you don't go there. You don't do that. And if he does, you probably don't want to read about it.
Perhaps this is part of my own evolution as a reader. As I read increasing amounts of poetry and nonfiction, I find myself less patient with the games fiction plays. My eyes roll more and more. My patience stretches thin. If I wore a watch, I'd be looking at it too much while reading books like this.
But still, the silver lining: the descriptions of Norway's woods, the life of a loner in a hut surrounded by the myth of a Garden of Eden. Too bad the whole thing's snakebit.
December 17, 2024
- I love a dream of love I once had,
I love you, and I love this patch of earth.
- And which do you love best?
- The Dream.
•
The story is simple, a man full of love for nature and life, his flame is blazing and of course he meet some beautiful girls One of them is a mythical character, I love myths so much and I’m always interested in learning more about European myths
It’s common among authors to include some references to myths in their stories but it doesn’t always works well, in this book I can say that the use of myths inside the story is one of the best that I have encountered yet.
Hamsun use the myths as dream or a vision, sometimes the protagonist compares his fate as stories of myths that he recalls
As I said the story and the plot is simple but the language is beautiful and their are some Magical moments, when he dream “ not clear if he dream while sleeping or awake “
and when he stays awake for more than one night he start to see some sort of vision or hallucination. This moment with the beautiful prose and the magical sitting in northern Norway is what makes it a 5 star read for me
I love you, and I love this patch of earth.
- And which do you love best?
- The Dream.
•
The story is simple, a man full of love for nature and life, his flame is blazing and of course he meet some beautiful girls One of them is a mythical character, I love myths so much and I’m always interested in learning more about European myths
It’s common among authors to include some references to myths in their stories but it doesn’t always works well, in this book I can say that the use of myths inside the story is one of the best that I have encountered yet.
Hamsun use the myths as dream or a vision, sometimes the protagonist compares his fate as stories of myths that he recalls
As I said the story and the plot is simple but the language is beautiful and their are some Magical moments, when he dream “ not clear if he dream while sleeping or awake “
and when he stays awake for more than one night he start to see some sort of vision or hallucination. This moment with the beautiful prose and the magical sitting in northern Norway is what makes it a 5 star read for me
September 9, 2025
An ex-soldier, Glahn, lives alone on an island. He enjoys the forests and the sea and for company he has his dog sop. But he gets sucked into the life of the elite on the island when he falls in love with an upper class woman. He carries on with a young girl, invoking the wrath and sexual jealousy of her man. He struggles with his innate violent nature while trying to fit into civil society. He loves to move in on other men's women. Even stays awake for three nights in the forest and conjures up a fantasy about two fairytale characters - Diderik and Iselin, and he moves in on Iselin as a huntsman, lol.
Hamsun writes in small paragraphs. The descriptions of nature are brief but affecting. I would not call it atmospheric. But it all got through to me.
An epilogue tells us what finally became of Glahn. Well, he moves in on this Tamil lady in India and her lover does not like it.
I can see how Bukowski was inspired by Hamsun. Here is Glahn, the soldier plotting revenge on the man who stole his woman:
"The Baron is going away. Well and good: I will load my gun, go up into the hills, and fire a salvo in his honour and Edwarda's. I will bore a deep hole in a rock and blow up a mountain in his honour and Edwarda's. And a great boulder shall roll down the hillside and dash mightily into the sea just as his ship is passing by. I know a spot--a channel down the hillside--where rocks have rolled before and made a clean road to the sea. Far below there is a little boat-house."
What he did to his dog, when his main lover Edwarda requests him to leave it with her as a remembrance, was pretty shocking. Was it supposed to be tongue in cheek? Hamsun was the favorite writer of Nazi propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels. Goebbels even produced a film based on the book.
Hamsun writes in small paragraphs. The descriptions of nature are brief but affecting. I would not call it atmospheric. But it all got through to me.
An epilogue tells us what finally became of Glahn. Well, he moves in on this Tamil lady in India and her lover does not like it.
I can see how Bukowski was inspired by Hamsun. Here is Glahn, the soldier plotting revenge on the man who stole his woman:
"The Baron is going away. Well and good: I will load my gun, go up into the hills, and fire a salvo in his honour and Edwarda's. I will bore a deep hole in a rock and blow up a mountain in his honour and Edwarda's. And a great boulder shall roll down the hillside and dash mightily into the sea just as his ship is passing by. I know a spot--a channel down the hillside--where rocks have rolled before and made a clean road to the sea. Far below there is a little boat-house."
What he did to his dog, when his main lover Edwarda requests him to leave it with her as a remembrance, was pretty shocking. Was it supposed to be tongue in cheek? Hamsun was the favorite writer of Nazi propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels. Goebbels even produced a film based on the book.
February 16, 2016
Zbog novostečenog straha od debelih knjiga, došlo mi je da ugrabim sebi najbližu knjigu ispod dvesta stranica na polici i da je pročitam, kako bih istrebio ispite što su se zavukli ispod noktiju.
Najbliži je bio Pan, na sreću.
Samo ima kaže, jel, Pan je centralni motiv ovog izuzetnog romana (novele?). Bog prirode, družbenik nimfi deli mnogo više sa glavnim likom romana, Glanom, od proste zvučnosti imena. I jedan i drugi su okruženi devojkama, i jedan i drugi preferiraju samoću prirode od ljudi, i jedan i drugi su drugačiji od ostalih. Pan je faun, a Glan je čova što na skupove ide sa puškom pod rukom, pandan savremenom namrgodjenom tipu što ide na žurke i gleda koga će pre da bije, ledjima uvek naslonjenih o zid najbliži izlazu. Medjutim, Glan, za razliku od njegovog modernog duplikata, duboko je osećajna ličnost, pun tuge i željan ljubavi toliko da je rasipa na sve strane. I kako to obično biva, tragedija dodje u obliku fatalne, ali jedine prave devojke, u ovom slučaju ništa manje komplikovane Edvarde.
Hamsun je sjajan psiholog i njegovo nijansiranje likova je za naklon do poda. U Panu takodje, za razliku od jedinog drugog njegovog romana Glad koji sam čitao, ističe se njegov osećaj za lepotu i liričnost rečenice. Kako na pozadini romana izdavač (Lom, izdavač za primer) napominje, ovo je himna netaknutom severu i svoj divnoj lepoti koju on skriva. Glan, čini se, kao neko ko nije oduvek bio okružen tom divljinom, može da primeti svaki neophodni detalj koji drugima beži. I da mu se prepusti.
5
Najbliži je bio Pan, na sreću.
Samo ima kaže, jel, Pan je centralni motiv ovog izuzetnog romana (novele?). Bog prirode, družbenik nimfi deli mnogo više sa glavnim likom romana, Glanom, od proste zvučnosti imena. I jedan i drugi su okruženi devojkama, i jedan i drugi preferiraju samoću prirode od ljudi, i jedan i drugi su drugačiji od ostalih. Pan je faun, a Glan je čova što na skupove ide sa puškom pod rukom, pandan savremenom namrgodjenom tipu što ide na žurke i gleda koga će pre da bije, ledjima uvek naslonjenih o zid najbliži izlazu. Medjutim, Glan, za razliku od njegovog modernog duplikata, duboko je osećajna ličnost, pun tuge i željan ljubavi toliko da je rasipa na sve strane. I kako to obično biva, tragedija dodje u obliku fatalne, ali jedine prave devojke, u ovom slučaju ništa manje komplikovane Edvarde.
Hamsun je sjajan psiholog i njegovo nijansiranje likova je za naklon do poda. U Panu takodje, za razliku od jedinog drugog njegovog romana Glad koji sam čitao, ističe se njegov osećaj za lepotu i liričnost rečenice. Kako na pozadini romana izdavač (Lom, izdavač za primer) napominje, ovo je himna netaknutom severu i svoj divnoj lepoti koju on skriva. Glan, čini se, kao neko ko nije oduvek bio okružen tom divljinom, može da primeti svaki neophodni detalj koji drugima beži. I da mu se prepusti.
5
August 19, 2012
A beautifully written novel detailing the collision of the natural world and the civilized world over a period of a few seasons in the forests of Norway. Hamsun's prose is at times poetic and magical; several dream-like chapters read like a lyrical mystery. The story keeps you on your toes: a couple of unexpected turns in the narrative had me flipping pages to discover the "what next?". Also: the epilogue (I don't want to call it by its true title in order to not inadvertently divulge a spoiler) is a brilliantly employed device to not only end the novel, but to cast a different light on the protagonist.
Bruce Chatwin, in In Patagonia, describes in haunting detail the effect that the barren loneliness of nature can have on some people - so potent that it causes some men to take their own life. Several of Hamsun's descriptions made me feel this desolation: "This silence murmuring in my ears is the blood of all Nature seething"; "Summer nights and still water, and the woods endlessly still. No cry, no footsteps from the road. My heart seemed full as with dark wine"; and "For my place is in the woods, in solitude..."
Highly recommended. I will definitely be reading more of Hamsun's work.
Bruce Chatwin, in In Patagonia, describes in haunting detail the effect that the barren loneliness of nature can have on some people - so potent that it causes some men to take their own life. Several of Hamsun's descriptions made me feel this desolation: "This silence murmuring in my ears is the blood of all Nature seething"; "Summer nights and still water, and the woods endlessly still. No cry, no footsteps from the road. My heart seemed full as with dark wine"; and "For my place is in the woods, in solitude..."
Highly recommended. I will definitely be reading more of Hamsun's work.
June 17, 2015
Pan certainly gives me a sense why Knut Hamsun might have been attracted to the Nazi creed. I’m not referring to the anti-Semitism or the crude belief in eugenics, but the belief in the superman and in the purity of nature. Both are deeply apparent in this work, or at least, what I think of this work.
On one level, Pan tells the story—rather trite and clichéd—of a wilful, destructive woman whose self-worth turns on whether she is able to attract a man. Having succeeded, she loses interest and treats him with contempt. He, on the other hand, finds himself utterly helpless before her.
However, Pan is clearly intended to be read as more than simply a love story. The protagonist, Thomas Glahn, is rather blatantly a stand-in for the eponymous Pan. He is described as having an animal look; he lives in the woods and is more comfortable being alone in the wilds than being sociable with other people; he is a skilful hunter and lives by shooting game; he wears a leather suit; women find his animal magnetism irresistible. To make sure that you get the symbolism, Hamsun hammers it in by telling us that Glahn’s gunpowder horn has a carving of Pan on it.
That Pan is more fable than love story is alluded to in the name of Glahn’s dog, Aesop, and in the occasional folk tale/myth/legend that is inserted into the story. One recounts the visit by a lover to a woman in her room, another tells of a woman who continues to pine after her lover after he abandons her and locks her up in a tower for forty over years. Its symbolic weight is further underlined (as if it were needed!) by the names of Glahn's two lovers, Eva and Evarda.
But if Pan is a fable, then what is it “about”? It is about how the strong are destroyed by the petty and the weak; it is about the strong, virile, masculine force being destroyed by the insidious, cunning, weak, female force. It is not difficult to see how a man who could write this might find the Nazi ideology attractive. Recommendable as a historical curiosity but not much else.
On one level, Pan tells the story—rather trite and clichéd—of a wilful, destructive woman whose self-worth turns on whether she is able to attract a man. Having succeeded, she loses interest and treats him with contempt. He, on the other hand, finds himself utterly helpless before her.
However, Pan is clearly intended to be read as more than simply a love story. The protagonist, Thomas Glahn, is rather blatantly a stand-in for the eponymous Pan. He is described as having an animal look; he lives in the woods and is more comfortable being alone in the wilds than being sociable with other people; he is a skilful hunter and lives by shooting game; he wears a leather suit; women find his animal magnetism irresistible. To make sure that you get the symbolism, Hamsun hammers it in by telling us that Glahn’s gunpowder horn has a carving of Pan on it.
That Pan is more fable than love story is alluded to in the name of Glahn’s dog, Aesop, and in the occasional folk tale/myth/legend that is inserted into the story. One recounts the visit by a lover to a woman in her room, another tells of a woman who continues to pine after her lover after he abandons her and locks her up in a tower for forty over years. Its symbolic weight is further underlined (as if it were needed!) by the names of Glahn's two lovers, Eva and Evarda.
But if Pan is a fable, then what is it “about”? It is about how the strong are destroyed by the petty and the weak; it is about the strong, virile, masculine force being destroyed by the insidious, cunning, weak, female force. It is not difficult to see how a man who could write this might find the Nazi ideology attractive. Recommendable as a historical curiosity but not much else.
January 26, 2019
A história se passa num vilarejo da Noruega no ano de 1850.O personagem principal é um ex tenente chamado Glahn, que vive com seu cão Esopo ,como um eremita em uma cabana numa floresta próxima ao vilarejo. Glahn vive da caça e da pesca e em perfeita harmonia com a natureza. Há passagens lindas com descrições da natureza, dos pássaros , das árvores .Glahn se envolve com a bipolar Eduarda , bem como com Eva uma simples trabalhadora , explorada pelo marido. Em sua relação com Eduarda ambos se ferem por causa do orgulho e do egoísmo. Há no caso também uma questão de status social; Glahn é um simples tenente enquanto Eduarda é filha de um dos homens mais ricos da região.
Em sua relação com Eva permanece a simplicidade , o apenas admirar, o apenas gostar de se passar um tempo juntos.
Glahn se sente muito bem quando se encontra junto à natureza ,em sua simples cabana , pescando, observando o mar. Mas no seu convívio com as pessoas ele não se sai tão bem, dá sempre suas mancadas , conta suas piadas sem graça. No entanto ele é admirado pelas mulheres, seu jeito de se vestir , seu olhar profundo as cativa.
Mas o livro não é só isso, ocorre um emaranhado de situações .Dor , tragédia , Amor e paixão. ...Não resista leia "Pan" do Norueguês ganhador do prêmio Nobel de literatura do ano de 1920, Knut Hamsun
Em sua relação com Eva permanece a simplicidade , o apenas admirar, o apenas gostar de se passar um tempo juntos.
Glahn se sente muito bem quando se encontra junto à natureza ,em sua simples cabana , pescando, observando o mar. Mas no seu convívio com as pessoas ele não se sai tão bem, dá sempre suas mancadas , conta suas piadas sem graça. No entanto ele é admirado pelas mulheres, seu jeito de se vestir , seu olhar profundo as cativa.
Mas o livro não é só isso, ocorre um emaranhado de situações .Dor , tragédia , Amor e paixão. ...Não resista leia "Pan" do Norueguês ganhador do prêmio Nobel de literatura do ano de 1920, Knut Hamsun
April 27, 2019
hamsun je pisac po mom ukusu... svaki put kad ga krenem čitati, već nakon nekoliko rečenica u tijelo mi se useli mir. u vremenu u kojem živimo, u vremenu žurbe, napetosti, kratkih i brzih informacija - ili, čak, najšire gledajući: u vrijeme civilizacije - hamsun nudi život šuma, koliba, pašnjaka i livada. kod njega sve je živo: i kamen i planina i voda i oblak. vrijeme teče sporo, a ljudi su svedeni na svoje bazične emocije koje proživljavaju duboko, ali bez puno (nepotrebnih) riječi.
meni je to kao dom. kao povratak životu kakav bi mogao i trebao biti.
meni je to kao dom. kao povratak životu kakav bi mogao i trebao biti.
December 24, 2017
A story of an unrequited love story set in mountains. Sounds cliche but it makes for that with complex characters and beautiful prose. Except for hunting and violence against animals, this book was a lovely experience.
Better than 'Growth of soil'.
Better than 'Growth of soil'.
February 6, 2019
کنوت هامسون از اولین نویسنده هایی است که در رمانهایش همه چیز بر محور «من» می چرخند. اما این «من»ِ به ظاهر معمولی، خود را از درون آن چنان غنی می بیند که نه از تشویق دیگران به وجد می آید و نه از استهزای دیگران ناراحت می شود. نه اهل چاپلوسی است و نه پایبند به تشریفات. به راحتی رنج ها را بر خود هموار می کند، گرسنگی را تاب می آورد، چه بسا از آن لذت می برد و روزگارش را می گذراند. بیشتر از نیازِ خود کسب نمی کند و از اینکه موهایش رو به سپیدی می روند اندوهگین نمی شود. تا اینکه مردی چنین خودبسنده، عاشق دختری می شود که نیمهی مؤنث خودِ اوست... و از اینجا ماجرای اصلی شروع می شود.
من از میان نوشته های چارلز بوکوفسکی با جان فانته آشنا شدم(جان فانته خدایِ من بود.) و از راهِ نوشته های جان فانته با کنوت هامسون آشنا شدم. گویا از راه نوه با پدر آشنا شده بودم و از راه پدر با پدر بزرگ دیدار کرده بودم. و برای من که شیوهی روایت بوکفسکی را خالی از روح می پنداشتم، آشنا شدن با کنوت هامسون سبب شد که تا این اندازه به «من روایتها» و روایِ اولشخص، سخت نگیرم.
با اینکه این کتاب در حدود صد و پنجاه سال پیش نوشته شده است، از لحاظ ساختار داستانی بسیار حائز اهمیت است. یکی از ویژگی هایی که در آن زمان نو به شمار می رفته(بعد از منروایتی)، خط سیر زمانیِ نامنظم داستان است. به این صورت که راوی ابتدا واقعه را بیان می کند و سپس به شرح ماوقع می پردازد.
داستان به راحتی و صفحه به صفحه پیش می رود و مثل شراب، اندک اندک خواننده را گرم و سرخوش و سپس مست می کند. جمله هایش گاه به شاعرانگی پهلو می زنند و گاه از سر خشم گفته شده اند و گاه از روی بی اعتنایی به زندگی. شاید بتوانم بگویم قهرمان داستانْ شخصیتی دارد مثل شخصیت قهرمان های ساختهی داستایفسکی. عاشق زندگی و در عین حال بی اعتنا به آن.
و اما ترجمهی پان: با وجود روان بودن، نیاز به شاعرانگی بیشتری داشت. به دو جهت: اول اینکه کنوت هامسون شاعر هم بوده است و دوم اینکه در ابتدای کتابِ «از غبار بپرس»ِ جان فانته(نشر چشمه)، مترجم قسمتی از «پان» را که مربوط به وجه تسمیه ی کتاب بوده را آورده بود و ترجمه کرده بود که بیشتر از ترجمه ای که قاسم صنعوی کرده بود، به دلم نشست.
یک اِشکال تایپی هم در قسمتی که می خواهم از کتاب نقل کنم وجود داشت که به نظرم مهم آمد چون معانی دو واژه جمله را شکلِ دیگری می دهند:
در ترجمه ی نشر چشمه این طور آمده: «آرامش و غفلت را به من بده» اما در این کتاب آمده: «آرامش و عقلت را به من بده». به ترجمه ی انگلیسی پان که رجوع کردم
Give me your peace and your understanding!
را آورده بود.
پس «عقلت» درست است.
قسمتی از کتاب که به نظرم زیبا آمد را اینجا می آورم:
«دختری جوان در برجی بسته زندانی بود. اربابی را دوست می داشت. از چه رو؟ از باد و ستاره ها سوال کن، از خدای «زندگی» سوال کن، زیرا کسی دیگر نیست که این ها را بداند. ارباب، دوست او و دلباخته ی او بود، اما زمان گذشت و روزی ارباب دختری دیگر را دید و روحش به سوی او کشیده شد. او چون جوانی محبوبه اش را دوست داشته بود. غالباً او را برکت و کبوتر خود می نامید، و دختر سینه ای پر سوز و تپنده داشت. مرد به او گفت: «قلبت را به من بده.» و دختر چنین کرد. مرد می گفت: « محبوبه ی من، آیا می توانم جرئت کنم و از تو تقاضایی داشته باشم؟» و دختر با سرمستی پاسخ می داد:«آری.» دختر همه چیز را به او داد و مرد از او تشکر هم نکرد. اما دخترْ دیگرْ او را چنان دوست داشت که انسان برده ای، و یا فقیری را دوست بدارد. از چه رو؟ از غبار راه سوال کن و از برگ هایی که فرو می ریزند سوال کن، از خدای اسرار آمیز «زندگی» سوال کن، زیرا کسی دیگر این ها را نمی داند. دختر به او هیچ نداد، با این همه مرد از او تشکر کرد. دختر گفت: «آرامش و عقلت را به من بده.» و مرد یک اندوه داشت. این اندوه را که از چه رو دختر زندگی او را نخواسته است.
و محبوبه اش در برج زندانی شد.
-ای دختر جوان که نشسته ای و لبخند می زنی، در چه کاری؟
-به چیزی می اندیشم، به ده سال پیش. زیرا آن زمان بود که او را دیدم.
-هنوز او را به خاطر می آوری؟
-هنوز او را به خاطر می آورم.
و زمان می گذرد...
-دختر جوان چه می کنی؟ و از چه رو نشسته ای و لبخند می زنی؟
-نام او را به روی سفره ای گلدوزی می کنم.
-نام چه کس را؟ نام آن کس که تو را در بند کرد؟
-آری همان که بیست سال پیش دیدم.
-آیا هنوز هم به خاطرش می آوری؟
-چون گذشته به خاطرش می آورم.
و زمان می گذرد...
-دختر زندانی چه می کنی؟
-پیر می شوم و دیگر نمی بینم که گلدوزی کنم. گچ دیوار را به ناخن می خراشم. با این گچ، سبویی برای او به عنوان هدیه می سازم، هدیه ای کوچک برای او.
-از که سخن می گویی؟
-از محبوبم، مردی که مرا در برج زندانی کرد.
-این است که لبخند بر لبانت می آورد؟ اینکه تو را در برج زندانی کرده است؟
-به آنچه او خواهد گفت می اندیشم. او خواهد گفت: «نگاه کنید، دوستم برایم سبویی کوچک فرستاده است، پس از سی سال مرا از یاد نبرده است.»
و زمان می گذرد...
-زندانی، شگفتا! تو نشسته ای بی آنکه کاری کنی لبخند می زنی؟
-من پیر می شوم، پیر می شوم، چشم هایم کور شده اند. کاری به جز فکر کردن ندارم.
-فکر کردن به آنکه چهل سال پیش دیده ای؟
-به کسی که وقتی جوان بودم دیدم. شاید چهل سال از این ماجرا گذشته باشد.
-اما مگر نمی دانی که او مرده است. تو رنگ می بازی، جواب نمی دهی؟ لب هایت سفید شده اند، دیگر نفس نمی کشی؟
افسانه ی غریبِ دخترِ درونِ برج چنین بود.»
من از میان نوشته های چارلز بوکوفسکی با جان فانته آشنا شدم(جان فانته خدایِ من بود.) و از راهِ نوشته های جان فانته با کنوت هامسون آشنا شدم. گویا از راه نوه با پدر آشنا شده بودم و از راه پدر با پدر بزرگ دیدار کرده بودم. و برای من که شیوهی روایت بوکفسکی را خالی از روح می پنداشتم، آشنا شدن با کنوت هامسون سبب شد که تا این اندازه به «من روایتها» و روایِ اولشخص، سخت نگیرم.
با اینکه این کتاب در حدود صد و پنجاه سال پیش نوشته شده است، از لحاظ ساختار داستانی بسیار حائز اهمیت است. یکی از ویژگی هایی که در آن زمان نو به شمار می رفته(بعد از منروایتی)، خط سیر زمانیِ نامنظم داستان است. به این صورت که راوی ابتدا واقعه را بیان می کند و سپس به شرح ماوقع می پردازد.
داستان به راحتی و صفحه به صفحه پیش می رود و مثل شراب، اندک اندک خواننده را گرم و سرخوش و سپس مست می کند. جمله هایش گاه به شاعرانگی پهلو می زنند و گاه از سر خشم گفته شده اند و گاه از روی بی اعتنایی به زندگی. شاید بتوانم بگویم قهرمان داستانْ شخصیتی دارد مثل شخصیت قهرمان های ساختهی داستایفسکی. عاشق زندگی و در عین حال بی اعتنا به آن.
و اما ترجمهی پان: با وجود روان بودن، نیاز به شاعرانگی بیشتری داشت. به دو جهت: اول اینکه کنوت هامسون شاعر هم بوده است و دوم اینکه در ابتدای کتابِ «از غبار بپرس»ِ جان فانته(نشر چشمه)، مترجم قسمتی از «پان» را که مربوط به وجه تسمیه ی کتاب بوده را آورده بود و ترجمه کرده بود که بیشتر از ترجمه ای که قاسم صنعوی کرده بود، به دلم نشست.
یک اِشکال تایپی هم در قسمتی که می خواهم از کتاب نقل کنم وجود داشت که به نظرم مهم آمد چون معانی دو واژه جمله را شکلِ دیگری می دهند:
در ترجمه ی نشر چشمه این طور آمده: «آرامش و غفلت را به من بده» اما در این کتاب آمده: «آرامش و عقلت را به من بده». به ترجمه ی انگلیسی پان که رجوع کردم
Give me your peace and your understanding!
را آورده بود.
پس «عقلت» درست است.
قسمتی از کتاب که به نظرم زیبا آمد را اینجا می آورم:
«دختری جوان در برجی بسته زندانی بود. اربابی را دوست می داشت. از چه رو؟ از باد و ستاره ها سوال کن، از خدای «زندگی» سوال کن، زیرا کسی دیگر نیست که این ها را بداند. ارباب، دوست او و دلباخته ی او بود، اما زمان گذشت و روزی ارباب دختری دیگر را دید و روحش به سوی او کشیده شد. او چون جوانی محبوبه اش را دوست داشته بود. غالباً او را برکت و کبوتر خود می نامید، و دختر سینه ای پر سوز و تپنده داشت. مرد به او گفت: «قلبت را به من بده.» و دختر چنین کرد. مرد می گفت: « محبوبه ی من، آیا می توانم جرئت کنم و از تو تقاضایی داشته باشم؟» و دختر با سرمستی پاسخ می داد:«آری.» دختر همه چیز را به او داد و مرد از او تشکر هم نکرد. اما دخترْ دیگرْ او را چنان دوست داشت که انسان برده ای، و یا فقیری را دوست بدارد. از چه رو؟ از غبار راه سوال کن و از برگ هایی که فرو می ریزند سوال کن، از خدای اسرار آمیز «زندگی» سوال کن، زیرا کسی دیگر این ها را نمی داند. دختر به او هیچ نداد، با این همه مرد از او تشکر کرد. دختر گفت: «آرامش و عقلت را به من بده.» و مرد یک اندوه داشت. این اندوه را که از چه رو دختر زندگی او را نخواسته است.
و محبوبه اش در برج زندانی شد.
-ای دختر جوان که نشسته ای و لبخند می زنی، در چه کاری؟
-به چیزی می اندیشم، به ده سال پیش. زیرا آن زمان بود که او را دیدم.
-هنوز او را به خاطر می آوری؟
-هنوز او را به خاطر می آورم.
و زمان می گذرد...
-دختر جوان چه می کنی؟ و از چه رو نشسته ای و لبخند می زنی؟
-نام او را به روی سفره ای گلدوزی می کنم.
-نام چه کس را؟ نام آن کس که تو را در بند کرد؟
-آری همان که بیست سال پیش دیدم.
-آیا هنوز هم به خاطرش می آوری؟
-چون گذشته به خاطرش می آورم.
و زمان می گذرد...
-دختر زندانی چه می کنی؟
-پیر می شوم و دیگر نمی بینم که گلدوزی کنم. گچ دیوار را به ناخن می خراشم. با این گچ، سبویی برای او به عنوان هدیه می سازم، هدیه ای کوچک برای او.
-از که سخن می گویی؟
-از محبوبم، مردی که مرا در برج زندانی کرد.
-این است که لبخند بر لبانت می آورد؟ اینکه تو را در برج زندانی کرده است؟
-به آنچه او خواهد گفت می اندیشم. او خواهد گفت: «نگاه کنید، دوستم برایم سبویی کوچک فرستاده است، پس از سی سال مرا از یاد نبرده است.»
و زمان می گذرد...
-زندانی، شگفتا! تو نشسته ای بی آنکه کاری کنی لبخند می زنی؟
-من پیر می شوم، پیر می شوم، چشم هایم کور شده اند. کاری به جز فکر کردن ندارم.
-فکر کردن به آنکه چهل سال پیش دیده ای؟
-به کسی که وقتی جوان بودم دیدم. شاید چهل سال از این ماجرا گذشته باشد.
-اما مگر نمی دانی که او مرده است. تو رنگ می بازی، جواب نمی دهی؟ لب هایت سفید شده اند، دیگر نفس نمی کشی؟
افسانه ی غریبِ دخترِ درونِ برج چنین بود.»
June 27, 2024
Obožavam kako Hamsun piše.
Oda prirodi, ljubav i ludilo.
"A kad pitaju: Možemo li da ti pomognemo da se oslobodiš? ti odgovaraš: Ne. A ukoliko pitaju: Ali, hoćeš li izdržati? ti odgovaraš: Da, izdržaću, jer volim ruku koja me vuče...Znaš li ti, Eva, šta je to nada?"
Oda prirodi, ljubav i ludilo.
"A kad pitaju: Možemo li da ti pomognemo da se oslobodiš? ti odgovaraš: Ne. A ukoliko pitaju: Ali, hoćeš li izdržati? ti odgovaraš: Da, izdržaću, jer volim ruku koja me vuče...Znaš li ti, Eva, šta je to nada?"
February 19, 2017
Kako se oduševim kad pročitam knjigu koja u tom trenutku odgovara mom duševnom stanju :)
Nije da sam se preselila u šumu, dohvatila pušku i psa i krenula u lov, ali ovih dana sam baš samotnjak...kao gospodin Tomas..
Šalu na stranu, koliko god da se lako čita, laički ću ipak konstatovati da ovo Hamsunovo delo itekako ima težinu, jer, po mom mišljenju, bez obzira na emotivne avanture glavnog lika, u prvi plan stavlja njegovu psihu...psihu čoveka uopšte (ili je to možda samo meni najjači utisak?).
Poručnik Tomas dane uglavnom provodi sam, u šumi, loveći po ceo dan. Jedino društvo mu je pas Ezop. Vremena za razmišljanje ima na pretek. Srećan je u svojoj samoći. Zahvalan na svemu što ima. Raduje se svakodnevnim "sitnicama" - izlasku Sunca, vetru, tišini, šumskom cveću, Mesecu. Svestan je da nema ništa, ali da, s druge strane, ima sve što mu je potrebno.
Čitajući ovu knjigu nekoliko puta sam se setila Mikelanđelove rečenice, iz prethodno pročitane Stounove "Agonije i ekstaze":
- Nikad nisam manje sam, nego kad sam sam.
Činjenica je da svi mi zaista i imamo sve što nam je potrebno..i da sreća leži u nama samima, bez obzira na okolnosti i okruženje.
Nije da sam se preselila u šumu, dohvatila pušku i psa i krenula u lov, ali ovih dana sam baš samotnjak...kao gospodin Tomas..
Šalu na stranu, koliko god da se lako čita, laički ću ipak konstatovati da ovo Hamsunovo delo itekako ima težinu, jer, po mom mišljenju, bez obzira na emotivne avanture glavnog lika, u prvi plan stavlja njegovu psihu...psihu čoveka uopšte (ili je to možda samo meni najjači utisak?).
Poručnik Tomas dane uglavnom provodi sam, u šumi, loveći po ceo dan. Jedino društvo mu je pas Ezop. Vremena za razmišljanje ima na pretek. Srećan je u svojoj samoći. Zahvalan na svemu što ima. Raduje se svakodnevnim "sitnicama" - izlasku Sunca, vetru, tišini, šumskom cveću, Mesecu. Svestan je da nema ništa, ali da, s druge strane, ima sve što mu je potrebno.
Čitajući ovu knjigu nekoliko puta sam se setila Mikelanđelove rečenice, iz prethodno pročitane Stounove "Agonije i ekstaze":
- Nikad nisam manje sam, nego kad sam sam.
Činjenica je da svi mi zaista i imamo sve što nam je potrebno..i da sreća leži u nama samima, bez obzira na okolnosti i okruženje.
September 12, 2022
Pan era el dios de los pastores y rebaños en la mitología griega. El protagonista de la novela encuentra su sosiego en medio de la naturaleza, al igual que Pan, viviendo en una cabaña en el bosque. La paz de esta persona se ve turbada por las mujeres que en el relato de Hamsun personifican algunos de los males de la sociedad (en la Noruega de principios del sXX)
De la atracción hacia la mujer pasa a la obsesión, la dependencia sentimental y luego el tormento.
La prosa es lírica, llena de impresiones, sentidos y emociones, nos pretende conmover con redacciones en tono cándido. Los párrafos son breves, como pinceladas en una tela, dejando fragmentos que se van construyendo al fluir la narración.
La trama gira, al igual que su protagonista, pasando a ser un hombre violento, sin escrúpulos ni principios, muy ligado a la propia vida del autor.
De la atracción hacia la mujer pasa a la obsesión, la dependencia sentimental y luego el tormento.
La prosa es lírica, llena de impresiones, sentidos y emociones, nos pretende conmover con redacciones en tono cándido. Los párrafos son breves, como pinceladas en una tela, dejando fragmentos que se van construyendo al fluir la narración.
La trama gira, al igual que su protagonista, pasando a ser un hombre violento, sin escrúpulos ni principios, muy ligado a la propia vida del autor.
June 14, 2019
An excellent book by Hamsun! He does some rather scary things, especially with his beloved dog...
I'm cheating I know but I will quote the blurb on the book here as is far better than I could manage.
"Set in a dense, wild forest on the Norwegian seacoast, PAN is the intense, passionate chronicle of a doomed and all-consuming love affair. Lieutenant Thomas Glahn, a man possessed by the magnificence of sea, sky and forest, spends dream-like days hunting and fishing - until he encounters the beautiful Edvarda. At first their passionate affair mirrors the supreme ecstasy of the Nordland summer. But when Edvarda spurns him, Glahn becomes a frenzied, desperate thing ... and the lovers' idyl turns to tragedy."
I'm cheating I know but I will quote the blurb on the book here as is far better than I could manage.
"Set in a dense, wild forest on the Norwegian seacoast, PAN is the intense, passionate chronicle of a doomed and all-consuming love affair. Lieutenant Thomas Glahn, a man possessed by the magnificence of sea, sky and forest, spends dream-like days hunting and fishing - until he encounters the beautiful Edvarda. At first their passionate affair mirrors the supreme ecstasy of the Nordland summer. But when Edvarda spurns him, Glahn becomes a frenzied, desperate thing ... and the lovers' idyl turns to tragedy."
April 8, 2022
Un libro incentrato sulla Natura, sul mondo bucolico in cui vive il protagonista in un clima quasi mistico. La storia scorre lenta e tranquilla, ma poi spunta l'amore sotto forma di un rapporto ai limiti dell'ossessione e il giovane tenente perde la sua calma e si trasforma, ai limiti - e anche oltre - della maleducazione. Nasce quindi una commistione tra aspetti irrazionali nei rapporti umani e un senso di quiete e tranquillità nel rapporto con la Natura. Il racconto è corto e si legge senza problemi. Tuttavia è particolare: non mi ha fatto impazzire.
April 4, 2013
Hamsun is one of those mildly overlooked authors that pops up every now and again on the ol' culturoscope and you blink and think, "Oh yeah, "Growth of the Soil" was a fucking awesome book and what else did he write?" Well, apparently he wrote a shit-ton of other awesome novels if this one is any indication. He's hard to pigeon-hole: he's somewhere near the darker parts of Dosteovsky, say the "Demons" Dosty and the sparse beauty of like a Lawrence, maybe? His prose is near-poetic, and there is some lovely repetition and weirdness in his narrative that would probably be mocked today for its childishness. Whatever. "Pan" centers on Glahn, a soldier who rents a cottage in Norway's Nordland for the better part of a year to hunt, fish, and screw local girls. Then he meets a young lady from the upper crust of town society and they begin an unhealthy and chaotic courtship. Now, Hamsun championed the idea that incoherence and inconsistency were what made people so remarkable and he severely criticized his contemporaries for writing static, predictable characters, so don't go into this expecting the motives, actions, and utterances of anyone to make any sense, except in a grander, poetic sense, maybe. A lovely, disturbing work, a flavor combo difficult to render, and made even more impressive by the great final chapter that even scholars of Hamsun ignore. That should tell you something about all of it as a whole.
April 23, 2017
Κρατώ μονο κάποιες παρατηρήσεις και φράσεις καθώς και την σκιαγράφηση της Εδουάρδας γιατί ο Χάμσουν έχει τον τρόπο του με τις λέξεις. Παρ'ολα αυτά η ιστορία μου φάνηκε αδιάφορη και δυστυχώς πολύ φτωχή σαν εκτέλεση. Επίσης βρήκα ανεκδιήγητα ηλίθιο τον Γκλάν. Κυλούσε τόσο ωραία η ιστορία, η περιγραφή της φύσης ήταν μαγική μεχρι που γνώρισε την Εδουάρδα. Για μένα απο κεί και έπειτα η σκιαγράφηση χωλαίνει ως επι το πλείστον για αυτό δεν μπορούσα να καταλάβω και τους χαρακτήρες.
July 4, 2019
“Perché io appartengo ai boschi e alla solitudine”, questo è il lascito della voce narrante che occupa la parte preponderante della narrazione e che coincide con il personaggio principale, il tenente Glahn, solitario abitante di una baita nel Nordland. Dedito alla caccia, immerso nella natura, temperamento irascibile, natura scontrosa, racconta, a distanza di due anni, la sua estate nel nord e la faticosa integrazione con gli abitanti del vicino centro abitato. Le sue brevi frequentazioni lo avvicinano a due giovani donne godendo solo di quella che meno gli preme; l'altra infatti pare essere il contraltare della sua natura irrequieta. La giovane Edvarda è infatti capricciosa, insolente e infantile e lui ne è vittima ammaliata. Nessun coinvolgimento emotivo suscita quest'anima tormentata, la sua natura esplode in comportamenti bizzarri e insoliti rendendolo inviso anche al lettore. Un' ultima parte affidata ad un'altra voce narrante ce ne consegna infine il destino ultimo. Nessuna presa in me il panismo rappresentato e il suo infrangersi a contatto con il complicato mondo sociale. I fatti narrati annullano ogni possibile riabilitazione.
Stesso destino all'autore?
Premio Nobel, molto amato da Thomas Mann sin dalla gioventù, leggerne la controversa biografia mi ha allontanata ancora di più da una piacevolezza di lettura purtroppo mancata suscitando in me invece un interesse morboso rispetto alla sua biografia: medaglia del Nobel in regalo a Goebbels, necrologio a Hitler, accuse di collaborazionismo, internamento in manicomio...Approfondirò...
Stesso destino all'autore?
Premio Nobel, molto amato da Thomas Mann sin dalla gioventù, leggerne la controversa biografia mi ha allontanata ancora di più da una piacevolezza di lettura purtroppo mancata suscitando in me invece un interesse morboso rispetto alla sua biografia: medaglia del Nobel in regalo a Goebbels, necrologio a Hitler, accuse di collaborazionismo, internamento in manicomio...Approfondirò...
August 6, 2013
Loved this -- 4.33 stars. Like a cross between "Hunger" and the more serious/solid/steady Growth of the Soil. Unrealiable narrator in the northlands. One with nature. Loved descriptions of the moon and caterpillars. Super-clear dramatization of romantic tilt-a-whirl caused by trying to anticipate manipulative flipflopping of an attractive capricious lover. Loved the insane, surprising actions -- read them through the filter of Knausgaard's insane actions in My Struggle: Book Two: A Man in Love. Loved the tiers of lovers -- the meaningless fling, the hopelessly devoted one you love but don't really love, the crazy one who drives you crazy with passion. Loved the triangulations among characters. Loved seeing around the narrator (as they say in creative writing classes). Loved the ending. Oh Glahn, with your animal eyes and gorgeous neck, I laughed out loud when you shot your dog.
July 1, 2017
Videorecensione:
https://youtu.be/PipLDjPVym8
https://youtu.be/PipLDjPVym8
April 25, 2024
Hamsun je čitao Toroa, potpisujem. I volim ga zbog toga, ali osim liričnosti i šumske atmosfere nije me ostavio preterano oduševljenom
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