I’m sorry, but I have failed. In part 1 and part 2 I promised to read the book «Out of the World» by Karl Ove Knausgård but it’s clear now I have not got the backbone for it. The reasons are many I will now sum up the most important parts.
1) The book is too long.
I’ve read long books before, but not these kinds of books. The “artsyfartsy flowing in ether” kinds.
2) Artsyfartsy gibberish.
I read on the sleeve of the book that Karl Ove Knausgård was living in Bergen at the time of the books publishing. He went to the Academy of Artsy writing (my translation) and it clearly shows. From the first page onwards it’s painful to read. By the second sentence he throws in a metaphor forcefully, because as I interpret, “that’s how artsyfartsy writers does it”
To quote the book: “[blah, blah, blah] like a swarm of slumbering insects had awaken and now annoyed gushed out into the room” (my translation).
What is art, really? I don’t know. A realness in the lies of fiction”, perhaps? That when we read something, sometimes we discover a “soul” or “meaning” or “honesty” or “something”. We believe that what we are experiencing has value and has a point. That the artist has worked hard to find something, perhaps himself, in the work and now we may do the same. The “honesty” is in my opinon the writers dearful and scillfull voice. Knausgård, I would say, has none. He has been to the academy of Artsy writing and learned how to force metaphors, similes and analogies upon us and write about reality with no ideals.
The pages may be white, and the letters may be black, but all I see on these pages is the colour brown. There are lot’s of words in this book, but all I read is “that’s just the way it is”. The book is long but I didn’t have to read far to understand it’s a dull book.
3) Intellectual laziness, perhaps?
Some minds are made of concrete with a heart of stone. They refuse to read works they will not understand and therefore their understanding of this plural world is stagnated and rigid. I hated Knausgård before, and after reading 3-4 pages I still do. There’s no way in hell I will read more. So I may be intellectual lazy and will perhaps live in a small bubble of lies refusing to see that teachers can fuck their students and that loneliness can make us perverts.
But here’s my philosophy (one of many); Life’s to short to read long books about nothing. Some people loves to spin in the mudd. Taking life as it is, with no dreams or ambitions. They don’t judge and demand we do not judge them. Okay fine. I will not judge you, but please stop telling me about it, cuz all I hear is “JUDGE ME! I’m filthy.”