Between Knausgaard and me

Grinding slowly through volume 6 of Knausgaard, particularly since I had to take time off to read Roger Lowenstein's history of the Fed (which I admittedly haven't finished), because I was on the road a couple of weekends ago and nobody is stupid enough to lug a book as fat as volume 6 on a plane.

I have assiduously resisted any and all commentary on the book, mostly because I don't want anything to come between me and it. For most books this is wise practice. If you have faith enough in your own opinion of what your are reading, it is better to let that opinion grow on its own, rather than be shaped by others. And for me the key thing is that I have confidence in what I think precisely because I understand full well that what I think really isn't important. This blog is read by maybe 15-20 people, so it's not really influential. On the other thing, that I think, the fact of the act of thinking, that is important, and it is what allows me to be effective in the world. Though, in the grand scheme of things, that too really isn't important.

In any thing, the reason it is important that relatively little come between Knausgaard, his narrator (basically himself), and me is that his is the most naked of voices. All is laid bare to the reader, or at least he makes as earnest an effort at bareness as any have made. Much of it, admittedly, kind of sucks as you read it, and I'm sitting there like "just speed it up Karl Ove," or "trim it down Karl Ove," but I have put myself in for the ride, so it must be done bare backed. Reading criticism would be like donning a condom, but there are no STDs to be had.

There is only the question of time.