The Gospel According to Sigrid Undset

Kristin Lavransdatter is undoubtedly one of the best works of fiction I have ever read. It chronicles the life of a girl in middle-ages Norway from her childhood to her death. A pretty unappealing narrative prima facie, I know; but in the sprawling, sometimes dark storyline underlies a coherent tale of dramatis personae -- emphasis on dramatis. It's like Shakespeare in prose: that good, unless you dislike Shakespeare.
The Norway of Kristin Lavransdatter's time was a country of Catholicism, mingled with a bit of pagan superstition (having lived in the Philippines for the majority of my life, I find much to relate with), and the driving force of the story is (to over-simplify) sin. These lead to magnificent lines of dialogue about guilt and confession. Some lines induced those "chills-down-your-spine" that make reading worthwhile. And I quote (from Tina Nunally's wonderful translation):

"Kristin," the priest tried to lift her face, "you mustn't think about this now! Think about God, who sees your sorrow and your remorse. Turn to the gentle Virgin Mary, who takes pity on every sorrowful –"
"Don't you see? I drove another human being to take her own life!"
"Kristin," the priest said sternly. "Are you so arrogant that you think yourself capable of sinning so badly that God's mercy is not great enough?..." (page 381)

"Help me, Gunnulf," begged Kristin. She was white to the very edge of her lips. "I don't know my own will."
"Then say: Thy will be done," replied the priest softly.... (page 467)

"... I understood that the torment of God's love will never end as long as men and maidens are born on this earth.... And I was afraid of myself because I, an impure man, has served at his altar, said mass with impure lips, and held up the Host with impure hands. And I felt that I was like the man who led his beloved to a place of shame and betrayed her."
... "I can't, Gunnulf, I can't – when you talk like that, then I realize that I can never..."
...
"Kristin. You can never settle for anything less than the love that is between God and the soul." (page 472)

(Kristin's mother:) "What did you think... when you found out that Kristin and I – the two people you held dearest and loved the most faithfully – we had both betrayed you as much as we possibly could?"  

(Kristin's father:) "I don't think I thought much about it."

"But later on, when you kept thinking about it, as you say you did..."  

"I thought about all the times I had betrayed Christ." (page 578)

There are more, similar passages in the remaining 600 pages of the book. I also have to say that passages like these aren't the bulk of the book. There are narratives and dialogues of adventure, romance, humor, and  (what else?) politics. All part of a balanced diet.

Snapshot

I woke up this morning, picked up my phone, and on it read a bit of Chesterton's Saint Thomas Aquinas, after which I ate breakfast, and, while drinking coffee, read the first chapter of David E. Holwerda's Jesus and Israel, then started my application to UChicago, and to end the first half of the day I scrubbed the bathroom floor (for the first time in my life). My forearms are still throbbing.

I don't know why I wrote this down. Maybe it's because I excessively desire the life of the mind and so often get slapped in the face by the life of the body.

Thanks for nothing, Marcion.