Wat een heerlijk boek is dit! Ik ben zeer benieuwd naar de andere twee delen van deze trilogie. Ik vloog er doorheen, maar ik had er nog veel langer van willen genieten. Ik vind het mooi geschreven, integer en soms pijnlijk en kwetsbaar, eenvoudig en poëtisch, vol momenten van herkenning terwijl het tegelijk af en toe een andere wereld leek.

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Citaten:

‘s Ochtends was er hoop. Die zat als een vluchtige lichtglimp op mijn moeders zwarte, gladde haar, dat ik nooit durfde aan te raken, en lag op mijn tong samen met de suiker op de lauwwarme havermout.

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Op de bodem van mijn kindertijd staat mijn vader te lachen.

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De lantaarns zijn net aangestoken en af en toe piept de maan tussen de gehaaste, langsrazende wolken door. Ik denk altijd dat er tussen de maan en de straat een mysterieuze verstandhouding bestaat, als tussen twee zusters die samen oud zijn geworden en geen woorden meer nodig hebben om met elkaar te communiceren.

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Het laatste voorjaar van mijn kindertijd is koud en winderig. Het smaakt naar stof en ruikt naar pijnlijke breuken en verandering.

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Ik lees in mijn poesiealbum terwijl de nacht langs het raam wandelt en zonder dat ik het doorheb, glijdt mijn kindertijd stilletjes naar de bodem van mijn herinneringen, die bibliotheek van het gemoed, waaruit ik voor de rest van mijn hele bestaan kennis en ervaring zal opdiepen.

3+

This is the first volume of Tove Ditlevsen's memoir, charting her young childhood years until her confirmation- an ominous threshold into adulthood.

Ditlevsen grew up in the working class district Vesterbro in Copenhagen. There seems to be very little light in her childhood, both literally and metaphorically. The flat where she grows up feels dark, surrounded by tall buildings and with little light entering the windows. Her evocative depictions of the local area and her neighbours are often set at dusk or night time - 'the narrow borderland between night and day, when all people move so quietly and slowly, as if they were walking on the bottom of the green ocean.'

There is also little light in her family or social and educational life with a mother who is emotionally detached, cold, often cruel. I found Ditlevsen's early descriptions of her mother particularly poignant. On sitting at the breakfast table each morning -' my mother was alone, even though I was there.' and on her first day at school -' a sharp smell strikes my nose. I recognise it and my heart stiffens because it's the already well-known smell of fear. My mother notices it, too, because she releases my hand as we go up the stairs.' There are some occasional lighter elements, for example the relationship with her brother and grandmother and her visits to the library. Overall though, she describes her childhood as 'quiet and furtive and watchful.'

Ditlevsen's feistiness and artfulness are apparent, for example in her tactic of letting other children think she is not bright or the way she makes the librarian let her read adult books. Ditlevsen has a rich inner life and dreams, dreams that she vowed never to reveal to anyone, dreams of moving away from her Vesterbo life. She sees her poetry both as an outlet for her dreams and an eventual ticket into a different life.

On a final note, I found the recurring figure of Rapunzel who's real name is Gerde, particularly harrowing. Gerde is a young neighbour and the strong implication is that she is being abused by her father's drinking companion. Like her namesake in the fairy tale, she seems to have been given up by her parents and yet there is no attempt at rescue in this story.

Bir okuma grubunda önerilen kitaplar arasında görüp başladığım nefis eser. Tove Ditlevsen'i okurken sanki karşınızda gözlerini ayakkabılarına dikmiş size hikayesini anlatıyor gibi hissediyorsunuz. Yaşadıklarını, hissettiklerini öyle bir aktarıyor ki bazen deneyimlerini onunla yaşamış gibi hissediyorsunuz.

Uygun bir zamanda seriye devam etme kararındayım. Modunuz düşükken okunacak bir kitap değil, zira Tove'un yaşamındaki olayların benzeri olmasa da çocukluğumuzda yaşadığımız ve bilinç altına attığımız şeyleri hatırlatmak gibi bir özelliği var.

Concise, melancholic, proletarian. Precisely my kind of book!

Evoked vivid memories of my own childhood and the neighbourhoods I inhabited in many respects. I felt a profound kinship with the young Tove.

Very eager to continue with the next two books in the trilogy.