whatever the cause, few modern authors can so eloquently, so simply, and so hauntingly write about death in a manner that is both as timeless and as profoundly pertinent to our present circumstance as Per Petterson. Still, Petterson is careful to steer away from the clichéd lone wolf narrative. They are moments that if lived differently would have resulted in, as Pettersons Trond. When it appears, it is more compassionate than passionate.
Out Stealing Horses Critical Essays
They neither seek to be at the center of things nor do they possess the chauvinism of their American cousins, who smugly haunt similar dark locales, but for different reasons and with different outcomes. He could keep running in the tracks longer than most, but weaker men crossed the finishing line before him. The rural lands of northern Europe have had a long if spare human presence to which modern people feel akin; of course the same could be said of America, though details of our self-regard suggest we are uncertain if our Indian predecessors were actually human. It is this psychology that seems, more than anything else, to inform his fiction. But Petterson is a rare writer. His father shows him that what must be done is best done without complaining. Iceland will be the Frankfurt Book Fair's Guest of Honor this fall. As Dostoyevsky remarked, Twice two makes four seems to me simply a piece of insolence.
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