The arrogance required to start an 800-page sequel with 400 pages of minutiae (with no apparent purpose and no discernible connection to the prior book) in the life of a directionless 19 year old Norwegian man child... astonishing. This is really Knausgaard's greatest weakness and indulgence as a writer. The soccer passages were really nice though, I'll admit.
And despite it all, I will happily continue on now.
— Mar 03, 2025 12:45PM
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