The Cross (Kristin Lavransdatter, #3) by Sigrid Undset

I have no idea how to summarize my thoughts on this series. I read these books on a recommendation along with an evangelizing article from Slate that compared them to the Neapolitan Novels, which I loved dearly. I see why the two were compared, as Kristin Lavransdatter contains the same mysterious propulsive energy of Elena Ferrante's masterworks. The two have very different aims, settings, and writing styles though.Kristin Lavransdatter constantly surprised me - each novel plunged deeper into headier topics, beginning with a childlike idyll, a somewhat conventional (in structure, not writing) middle chapter of a bildungsroman, culminating in a final novel that becomes something else entirely. I don't really know how to describe what that is, really. It's symphonic. All the threads that have been present throughout the novels reinforce the power of the narrative, and the ending of each of those threads becomes progressively more and more powerful until you reach the harrowing final chapter of that final book. Perhaps it's a maudlin comparison, but when I was 19, I started obsessively watched Six Feet Under in a few short weeks. The show became the entirety of my internal life, all of the scenes became the only metaphors I would reach for. Then the show reached what was, at least to me at the time, as powerful and suffocating a conclusion as I've ever encountered in art. These book had a similar effect on me. You should read them!