Karl Ove Knausgård

In Winter, het tweede deel van de Vier seizoenen-reeks, wordt Knausgårds dochter Anne geboren. Meer nog dan in het eerste deel richt hij zich direct tot deze pasgeboren dochter in ontroerende brieven. Ook legt hij haar de wereld verder uit in korte, vaak geestige tekstjes over de meest uiteenlopende onderwerpen. Of het nu gaat om suiker, tandenborstels, de maan, de jaren zeventig, of het belang van seks en gesprekken voor menselijke relaties, Knausgårds unieke blik laat ook de lezer naar deze onderwerpen kijken met een blik als van een pasgeboren kind.

Winter

Karl Ove Knausgaard

In the second in a planned four-part autobiographical series, the author "waits for the birth of his daughter. In preparation for her arrival, he takes stock of the world, seeing it as if for the first time, [writing] about the moon, water, messiness, owls, birthdays--to name just a handful of his subjects. These oh-so-familiar objects and ideas he fills with new meaning, taking nothing for granted or as given. New life is on the horizon, but the earth is also in hibernation, waiting for the warmer weather to return, and so a contradictory melancholy inflects his gaze"--Amazon.com.

Angus Bretherick

Simona Paunova

The second volume in his autobiographical quartet based on the seasons, Winter is an achingly beautiful collection of daily meditations and letters addressed directly to Knaugsaard's unborn daughter It is strange that you exist, but you don’t know anything about what the world looks like. It’s strange that there is a first time to see the sky, a first time to see the sun, a first time to feel the air against one’s skin. It’s strange that there is a first time to see a face, a tree, a lamp, pyjamas, a shoe. In my life that almost never happens anymore. But soon it will. In just a few months, I will see you for the first time. In Winter, we rejoin the great Karl Ove Knausgaard as the birth of his daughter draws near. In preparation for her arrival, he takes stock of the world, seeing it anew. While new life is on the horizon, the earth is also in hibernation, waiting for the warmer weather to return. In his inimitably sensitive style, he writes about everything from the moon, winter boots and messiness, to owls and birthdays. Taking nothing for granted, he fills these everyday familiar objects and ideas with new meaning. Startling, compassionate, and exquisitely beautiful, Knausgaard's writing is like nothing else. Somehow, he shows the world as it really is, at once mundane and sublime.

Winter

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