Though somewhat about metaphysics, there's not really any interesting or original insights here. Though a memoir, there's few memorable incidents. The writing is decent but also a bit flat--no beautiful language here, no great dialogue. This is certainly not a plot-driven novel: It's a tour through a few middle-age years in the author's life roughly framed by the early portion of his relationship with his partner Linda. Yet I found this novel addictive. I guess I'd put it this way: Karl Ove, page by page, becomes your friend, and you're intrigued about what he has to say and what happens to him. You root for his happiness, and also know he will undermine it when it arrives. He's a bit of a jerk--but he's your jerk. I found myself feeling this way about 75 pages in, and was hooked thereafter. Knausgaard is a titan.Do not read this book if you need a plot to keep you entertained. There is no plot other than episodes in a man's life. If you liked Proust you won't mind this style.The book is 1/4 philosophical speculation, 1/4 anecdotes from turning points in Knausgaard or his acquaintances' lives and 1/2 just tracking the banal minutiae of life and what it does to us.The prose and translation is tight, very well structured. A good rythm. Empathy towards the narrator is immediate, even when he's doing some shitty, petty things. The best scenes in the book will knock you out cold, and there are plenty. The rest of it sinks in slowly.I am very different from Knausgaard - I believe most readers who love this book are - and yet much of it resonates with me.Knausgaard is a titan.
