Post by jk on Oct 31, 2021 14:34:40 GMT -5
We drove through a tunnel and all of a sudden a fjord lay beneath us, wide and blue, with farmhouses here and there along one shore and along the other a steep treeless mountain slope, bluish in the hazy sunlight. ... And Vanja's voice from the back seat. [Vanja is the author's elder daughter, then five or six years old.]
"When are we there, daddy?"
"It's not much further. Chin up."
"But it's so boring, daddy!"
"Look at that! A waterfall on the other side!"
"I can see it."
"Shall I put some music on?"
"Yes."
So I put on Dennis Wilson, which is what Vanja calls car music every time I play it at home. In the mirror I saw her leaning back, looking blankly out of the window.
Translated by jk from the Dutch version of part 6 of Min camp (My Struggle) by the Norwegian author Karl Knausgård
"When are we there, daddy?"
"It's not much further. Chin up."
"But it's so boring, daddy!"
"Look at that! A waterfall on the other side!"
"I can see it."
"Shall I put some music on?"
"Yes."
So I put on Dennis Wilson, which is what Vanja calls car music every time I play it at home. In the mirror I saw her leaning back, looking blankly out of the window.
Translated by jk from the Dutch version of part 6 of Min camp (My Struggle) by the Norwegian author Karl Knausgård