Read ყინულის სასახლე by Tarjei Vesaas დათო აკრიანი Online

ყინულის სასახლე

Commonly seen as the legendary Norwegian writer's masterpiece, this story tells the tale of Siss and Unn, two friends who have only spent one evening in each other's company. But so profound is this evening between them that when Unn inexplicably disappears, Siss's world is shattered. The Ice Palace is written in prose of a lyrical economy that ranks among the most memorabCommonly seen as the legendary Norwegian writer's masterpiece, this story tells the tale of Siss and Unn, two friends who have only spent one evening in each other's company. But so profound is this evening between them that when Unn inexplicably disappears, Siss's world is shattered. The Ice Palace is written in prose of a lyrical economy that ranks among the most memorable achievements of modern literature....

Title : ყინულის სასახლე
Author :
Rating :
ISBN : 9789941002038
Format Type : Paperback
Number of Pages : 148 Pages
Status : Available For Download
Last checked : 21 Minutes ago!

ყინულის სასახლე Reviews

  • s.p
    2019-03-25 12:56

    In such a short amount of time and in so few, yet potent, words, Vesaas delivers a chilling, metaphor-driven tale of loss set in the dense winters of Norway. You really should read this book. It is a very quick read, but it will remain with you long after you finish the last page. Vesaas, who was a decorated poet as well as a novelist, delivers a fresh, poetic and concise prose that damn near flows off the page. The real majesty however, is in the way he crafts an environment that reads like a living, breathing character. The snowy landscapes that blanket this novel, and the Ice Palace itself, are just as important characters as the two female leads themselves as Vesaas illustrates them in layers of metaphoric beauty. Also, his ethereal imagery will make you feel like there is a savage winter storm just beyond your window regardless of the actual weather outside.This novel reads like a long form poem as there is so much below the surface and the actual words. It is filled with symbols and metaphors that are very direct to the plot and characters and open up a much broader understanding of Siss and her tribulations. While the prose is swift and the novel is short, you would do well to slow down and really examine what Vesaas has written much as you would do with any poem. Without giving anything away, the ice palace found in the novel can be viewed on many different levels; from a symbol of several of the characters, as death, or even as the novel itself. I don’t want to go into it as not to provide spoilers but after reading this I felt cheated that I didn’t read this for a class and didn’t have an essay to formulate as I had so much to say about all of Vesaas’ hidden messages.This is a near perfect, and very teach-able, novel. It calls up the nostalgic feeling of adolescence, dazzles you with it’s simple and direct poetry, provides food for thought, constantly keeps things fresh as the style shifts around (one chapter is just a short poem), plus it practically has its own soundtrack with the vivid cracking of ice and as it’s hard not to image a woodwind composition playing after all the talk of woodwind players in the last third of the novel. Oh, and there is some terrifying bits about walking down the road in opaque darkness. This novel is powerful and chilling (sorry, after all the descriptions of icy cold I had to include at least one 'cold' pun). 5/5

  • Brina
    2019-04-15 07:00

    We have a significant amount of snow on the ground for the first time in four years. With this influx of winter weather, it is comforting to read books about snow and colder climates. I have seen a number of goodreads friends review Tarjei Vesaas' definitive book the Ice Palace. In need of a foreign prize award winner for classics bingo, I decided to read his masterpiece for myself. Short in length, this novella is poignant in its prose as Vesaas writes of grieving and survivors guilt' in this harrowing coming of age tale.Siss is eleven years old and the most popular girl in her school. An only child, she is also the center of her parents' attention. One day her feelings toward everyone around her change when a new girl named Unn joins Siss' class at school. A lonely girl by nature, Unn is ignored by everyone in the class, except Siss. The girls decide to meet at Unn's house after school on one darkening autumn evening and commence on an electric friendship. Unn reveals to Siss that her mother died of an illness six months earlier and that even at eleven years old she does not know who her father is. Coping with these feelings swirling inside of her, Unn has yet to openly discuss her station in life with anyone, that is except for Siss. Despite being the leader of everyone at school, Siss is at heart lonely as well. It seems divinely ordained that the two girls have been brought together, and now they share a deep secret that not even Unn's Aunt or Siss' parents are privileged to know. Together, the girls appear to be on the cusp of navigating through their teenage years without much angst.This powerful friendship ends before it has a chance to begin. The next morning, Unn decides to navigate an ice palace on her way to school. In Norway, ice is as thick as stone and little is capable of penetrating through it. It is inside of this ice palace structure unspoiled by nature that Unn is able to meditate on her feelings about her mother, her father, her new friendship with Siss, and her inherent loneliness. Almost by design, Unn falls through the ice and drowns. Siss' new friendship is not meant to be and, through a despondent winter, she grieves in her solitude. In addition to the ice structure, Siss has erected an almost impenetrable barrier around herself that not even her parents are able to crack. Coping with her own survivors' guilt while being on the cusp of adolescence, Siss is unable to strike a balance between preserving Unn's memory and moving on with her own life.Vesaas has created a harrowing story through his exquisite prose and use of an ice palace as both a character and a metaphor for Siss' boundaries in sharing her feelings with others. I read the English version translated by Elizabeth Rokkan and she has done a magical job in preserving the prose in translation. Versaas' novella is an ode to his native country of Norway and much of the land that has been unspoiled by development. In addition to the ice palace that is both sparkling yet deadly, Versaas describes native birds and plants who sound like a woodwind section to an orchestra. The sounds of the Norwegian countryside enhance the beauty of this novel that is otherwise harrowing and borders on the metaphysical thoughts of an adolescent girl.Tarjei Versaas was a runner up for the 1964 Nobel Prize for his work on this hauntingly beautiful novel. When I think of an ice palace, the first thing that comes to mind is Elsa's creation in the Disney version of Hans Christen Andersen's Elsa the Snow Queen. Elsa's construction designed as a boundary between herself and the world, and Versaas' ice palace is similar both physically and emotionally. His prose in describing the ice is chilling yet full of beauty, which is the image I see with the untarnished snow on the ground before me. I had never read one of Versaas' novels before, and The Ice Palace is a poignant introduction to his work, which also includes the 1952 award winning The Winds. An ode to Norwegian nature and adolescent friendship, Versaas' work is one that will stay with me for a long while.4+ stars

  • Dolors
    2019-03-22 13:50

    “Promise in deepest snow from Siss to Unn: I promise to think about no one but you.”Sometimes, only a gleaming glance is enough. Siss and Unn, two eleven-year old girls living in an isolated, rural community somewhere in Scandinavia, need only a single evening together to forge an uncommon friendship that will change their lives irreparably. When four eyes full of gleams and radiance beneath their lashes, filling the looking glass, shine into each other, words become redundant. A disturbing meeting, charged with powerful silences and unsaid secrets, unites the girls beyond humane nature in an unbreakable bond, frozen in time.There is nothing childlike in this deceivingly simple tale, nothing soft or tender. The spell-binding description of a perpetually glacial scenery, where twigs weep iced drops and icicles melt in pools of tears, is as distressingly beautiful as it is ruthless and brutally cold, devoid of life. The concise, lyrical narrative evokes the Japanese haiku style, where the misleading simplicity of the text is in fact overflowing with symbolism and metaphors worthy of close reading, making of this brief novel a gem in form of a prose poem.It is precisely in this sombre setting, full of darkness lurking in recondite corners, reinforced with this sharp writing style, where the main character of the novel is presented: The eerie giant structure formed by a frozen waterfall up in the lake, calledThe Ice Palace. Either sanctuary or mausoleum, it arises as the eternally snow covered bridge that defies death, guilt and angst, linking Siss and Unn forever. There’s only one thing to ask in exchange for this everlasting token of friendship: A promise. Siss must never forget.The pieces are all set for the magic to start. Siss, the popular leader of her peers at school and the beloved daughter of a well-off family, begins the journey with no return to become Unn, the introverted, mysterious girl, who leads an isolated life with her aunt, wrapped up in an irresistible and unsettling aura. Two gleaming faces in a mirror become one in a radiant moment, memory and dreams are fused into an impossible reality and Unn becomes Siss and Siss becomes Unn, scorching twin souls emerge amidst the implacable coldness of their existence, producing a miracle. Or a curse. For this world is made for the living, and that is a lesson Siss will have to learn if she wants to break free from a heavy burden which is drowning her in the mesmerizing but already thawing chambers of The Ice Palace.This is a sublime piece of art which masterfully portrays the intensity of new discovered feelings peaking at an early age and the necessity to merge the opposing forces involved in the process of growing up to become a whole being, and also to accept emptiness and loss as facets of life, even if that means getting rid of a part of oneself.The shattered ice might melt and cease to be, but the power of memory can bring back frozen images of icicles and shiny drops of water dancing together in the flood of light that the dilated pupil caught in a blinding and timeless moment. “‘It’s not right for you to go on as you as you are. It’s not like you. You’re a different person.’Don’t answer. It’s not meant to be answered. But it’s like the gleaming of stars in a well. And no explanation.”

  • Seemita
    2019-03-23 08:59

    When a few dotted lines can cuff my heart into a promise and bind my palms over it in sombre armory, keep me lain in its pristine shadows for hours and yet freeze the time in crystalline imagery, I beam at the prospect: the prospect of living in that promise; that promise which lights up with the chandeliers of frosty realizations hanging from the ceiling of dreams and a sea of incomplete chances freezing my being. A life is made of promises; some made to self, some to others. And like a diffident fuel, it comes into play when life derails to reserve. Aren’t all the promises tested at the brink of uncertainty? Aren’t all the promises repainted at the threshold of patience? Aren’t all the promises questioned at the gates of survival? What do Siss* and Unn**, all of eleven, seal during their first (and only) conversation, on a chilly evening within the warm confines of a small wooden room, occasionally interfered by murmuring winter winds and distracting snowflakes? An unspoken promise: a promise that outgrows their initial inhibitions in school, their hushed blossoming of mutual admiration, their trepid steps towards each other, their solitary evening of joint reflections, their singular moment of shocking adolescence, their crimson welcome of next day sun, their sub-consciously chosen divergent paths, their uninitiated severance of hearts and their union over terminated breath. (view spoiler)[ This promise lives on even when one of them is locked in the heart of the Ice Palace forever. (hide spoiler)]A life being led under the cold sky of a lost one may occasionally ruffle up with the day breeze of sunny developments but the night brings it back into the icy fold; the ice, after all, is indicative of pain, without which there is no happiness. Kites suspended from bruised threads alone, can extend a supportive landing to another, without feeling intimidated. One grows more in pain than in joy. One lives more in absence than in presence. One sings more in dreams than in reality. Vesaas might have viewed life as gossamer of renewed promises but never without one; much like the Ice Palace that stood subdued in summer, embracing dissolution but tirelessly raising its head again in winter without exception. Vesaas must have experienced the tingling calmness that a battered palm transfers upon touching a healthy skin; much like how a tumultuous, windy evening of tight-lipped conversation can be the analgesic for months of revitalizing discoveries. Vesaas must have witnessed a beautiful painting becoming priceless with a careless but feisty stroke of brush; much like the reinstating zephyr of souls, that with or without their presence, turn daily life, aromatic. I have been engulfed in the ephemeral presence of few people who never returned; but their touch stands frozen in my heart. No infernos of absence and no flames of silence can melt away their existence. But they do melt; melt within the searching glow of my fogged eyes. And seep a little more into me; filling the reservoirs with more potency to keep the promise. Yes, the promise.----In Norse,*Siss is an abbreviation for Sissel, which is translated as "without sight".**Unn is translated as "the one who is loved" yet it can be read as the prefix un-loved as in abandoned.Note: This Article throws an interesting angle of 'metaphysical detective fiction' to this novel and sets some cells to work.

  • Agnieszka
    2019-03-23 06:39

    The Ice palacetakes place in the raw scenery of the Norwegian late autumn . The evening roaring heralds the strengthening of the ice covering the nearby lake , and in the shadow , on the roadsides unnamed creatures are skulking . But you are not afraid of darkness , Siss , are you ? There’s nothing to be afraid of . It’ll envelop you with soft coat and then you can hear its indistinct voice . Its loves to play sometimes with you , but you know all its clever tricks , all these whispers and rustles . There is only one thing , you just can’t run away . Because when you once start then you will never stop . So go , Siss . Unn’s cottage is very close . And you are going to have a wonderful time. Leader of school pack Siss and timid and a bit mysterious Unn . The story of their friendship is very short - just one evening . During this meeting Siss and Unn , uncomfortably like new born horses attempting to stand on owns legs , are trying to make friendship , shyly and awkwardly examine own faces in the mirror . Something pulls them and repulses , girls trying to talk about the secret from Unn’s past , but this scares away Siss , and on the next day Unn takes her secret to the ice palace . View of the palace is absolutely stunning . Shiny , cold and inaccessible and yet so tempting . Dainty , lace decorating , slender columns , openwork lace . Chambers sparkling with colors , white , blue, green . Somewhere in the distance a waterfall roars , and in the icy walls - trapped eye of the sun . Come in , Unn . Get some rest .Vesaas is for sure one of my greatest discoveries of this year. Some writers need plenty pages , hundreds words on it to say nothing while he writes with such an effortless style , tells with such simplicity and at the same time touches you deeply . Description of the palace , cold and snowy landscapes are really breathtaking . You feel that your fingers froze almost completely , you barely can turn pages . Metaphorical , full of symbols , minimalist writing about growing up , loss and attempts to come to terms with it . But like after storm comes a calm , so winter has to bowing to spring . And like sun releases chained with ice land so time will melt frozen crumb in the girl's heart . And visit at Ice Palace at the end of the winter will be like catharsis .

  • Jaidee
    2019-04-22 13:41

    3 "at times hypnotic, at times beautiful but mostly stilted" stars. I glanced and saw many five star ratings for this book. I ask myself "What have I missed? What have I misunderstood?"I decide that this book simply did not resonate deeply for me.I loved the descriptions of the changing of the season in a small Scandinavian town and the use of the frozen waterfall as something monstrous, profound, beautiful but inanimate. This is the way I felt about the book as well. Inanimate.....too cold to allow near my warm heart. I was not moved nor did I believe what is happening. I did not believe in the thought processes of Siss. I did not believe in her grieving. It was lovely art-house but not flesh and blood emotional processing. I did not believe in the children. I did not believe in the adults. I did not believe in the thinking or the dialogue. I did not in the end, believe in this book or the author's vision. The only thing I believed in was the landscape and the hugeness of the waterfall. Strangely, this was enough and had to be enough. In this landscape, survival is key. I walked through this Nordic exhibition, nodded briefly, somewhat appreciatively and will move on to something that is deeper and more meaningful to me. In other words, I wanted to penetrate the Ice and move deeper but simply could not.

  • Algernon
    2019-04-17 10:41

    The more I like a book, the more I hesitate about how to write it up in a review, about how to capture its beauty and how to convince other readers that it is worth checking up. I read The Ice Palace in one sitting, then I sat and thought about it for a week. At first glance, it is such a simple, straight-forward story, told in understated, minimalist prose. Two young girls meet after school and believe they could become close friends, yet they shy away from giving in to their impulses too fast, too easy. The next day, one of the girls goes missing, and the other feels guilty, abandoned. All events are circling around and coming back to a frozen waterfall near their small town in a mountainous district of Norway.Yet this simple story has touched me deeply with its eerie beauty, its sadness and especially with the things left unsaid, unexplained: the silences, the unfinished gestures, the loneliness, the indifference and the mystery of winter landscape to the incursions of the human intruders upon its domain.Warning: may contain spoilers!Siss and Unn are eleven years old and as different from each other as fire and water. Siss is lively and outspoken and even a little bossy with her friends. Unn is introverted and reticent, sitting alone at the edge of the playground. Siss comes from a content and comfortable family, with parents who give her a lot of leeway to express herself. Unn is an orphan with an unknown runaway father and has recently lost her mother to illness, now living with an elderly aunt. Yet from the first time their eyes meet across a schoolyard they feel connected. Too young and inexperienced to know how to express their feelings, shy and yet filled with yearning. Naked flames of innocence and enthusiasm, they shed their clothes and danced around each other, coming very close then jumping away in fright at the intensity of the feeling. Vesaas the poet knows how to go beyond mere words to capture the moment, in the first of a couple of lyrical passages that mark the high points of the story for me: Gleams and radiance,gleaming from me to you,and from me to you alone - into the mirror and out again,and never an answer about what this is,never an explanation.These pouting lips of yours,no, they're mine, how alike.Hair done the same way,and gleams and radiance.It's ourselves!We can do nothing about it,it's as if it comes from another world.The picture begins to waver,flows out to the edges,collects itself, no it doesn't.It's a mouth smiling.A mouth from another world.No it isn't a mouth, it isn't a smile,nobody knows what it is - it's only eyelashes open wideabove gleams and radiance. After their first tentative meeting, Unn decides to play truant from school, in order to avoid embarassing her new friend, and goes to visit the frozen waterfall near the town. We will return to this ice construction several times more in the novel, during the day, at night by lanternlight, under snow and finally in spring to witness its eventual collapse. The beauty of the water and frost sculpted chambers is amazing, beckoning not unlike a desert mirage with refractions of light and hidden treasures, menacing and cruel at other moments with the pressures of the ice and the shifting underground torrents, closed to scrutiny and transient - the ice palace as a metaphor I translate into the ultimate answer (or the lack of an answer) to the meaning of life. Caught in the middle of this "home of the cold" , unable to find her her way back to her friend, the final image I retained of the girl Unn is in one of the translucid ice chambers: This room seemed to be made for shouting in, if you had someting to shout about, a wild shout about companionship and comfort. I wanted so much to be able to reach out and hold my hand out to Unn, bring her back to sunshine and to the warmth of a roaring hearth fire, to bring her and Siss back together and to watch their instinctive attraction develop into a lifelong friendship. But Siss is left to deal with the aftermath on her own, struggling to cope with remorse and guilt, trying to keep true to the memories of her missing almost friend. Here's were the second poem I've bookmarked fits in: As we stand the snow fell thicker.Your sleeve turns white.My sleeve turns white.They move between us likeSnow covered bridges.But snow covered bridges are frozen.In here is living warmth.Your arm is warm beneath the snowAnd a welcome weight on mine.It snows and snows upon silent bridges.Bridges unknown to all. The sad overtones of the novel are tempered in part by the majestic beauty of the country (Telemark in Norway, a place that until now I associated only with a WWII commando movie) and a musical theme introduced in the last chapters, announcing the coming of spring to the tune"woodwind players". I am thinking of Grieg and Sibelius as the most appropriate composers for a soundtrack of the story, the romantic musicians that have been so strongly associated with national spirit in Scandinavia. In a similar way, Tarjei Vesaas is now a symbol of the Nordic spirit for me. Comparisons between him and the taciturn and sombre Ingmar Bergman don't seem forced at all after being exposed to the silences and mysteries of the palace of ice. I'm thinking of Jungfrukällan (The Virgin Spring) in particular, because it has a similar theme of innocence destroyed in the middle of a beautiful and indifferent landscape.I have to thank a couple of Goodread friends (again) for bringing this frozen gem of a story to my attention.

  • Kalliope
    2019-04-01 06:45

    What a bedeviled activity reading is!When one reads the book or what has one read just before, are circumstances that alter the relationship between the printed pages and the reader. I came to The Ice Palace after finishing The Long Ships, which had delighted, illustrated and greatly amused me. After Bengtsson’s smooth but engaging jocularity, I was not ready for the lyricism and the evocative tone of Vesaas’s book, and it took me several pages to adjust my senses. The new coldness made my eyes somewhat numb.The Ice Palace seemed at times a prose poem, a gelid one. Descriptions, in particular of coldness, and of ice, and of darkness, with the ice palace looming as the undecipherable symbol, but which undeniably withholds death, are the sparkling and biting gems in this book.However, I failed to engage in the mutual fascination that has frozen the two girls into their own icicle. As this spell is water-coloured in a very suggestive language with much unsaid, I wondered whether in the process of translation the original vacuum had been somewhat dislocated. So, by the end of the read, I felt a bit cold. Just one icy star cold.

  • Lynne King
    2019-03-25 07:32

    Tarjei Vesaas has written an absolute masterpiece here. Read it - Examine the ice palace on the cover of the book and the picture of a girl. Use your imagination and think of imagery and symbolism, snow, ice, water, new seasons, mental trauma, the mirror that reveals all, two eleven year old girls, an outsider and the other the leader of a group at school. The catalyst is the ice palace.Meet death and then the birth of the phoenix. What is the wild bird doing and what is the significance? The woodwind players too...Delve into this author's mind. Meet an author who lived in an isolated village in Telemark, a mountainous region in southern Norway, who loved the countryside so much, he stayed there until his death. Even now people visit the farm where Vesaas lived.Meet pure magic here. Doris Lessing was quite right when she said "How simple this novel is. How subtle. How strong. How unlike any other. It is unique. It is unforgettable. It is extraordinary."Yes indeed and I've read this novella twice and can pick it up at any page and savour it.

  • Marina
    2019-03-31 05:41

    Many years ago (decades even) I watched this movie on television about the life of American poet Maya Angelou. The details of the story have long ebbed away but there’s this one scene that I recall vividly. In it a sort of teacher figure is telling the young Maya about how beautiful words can be, how wonderful it is to love them. I guess this conversation remained with me because at the time I didn’t understand it. I loved reading books already, I loved the stories they told and the adventures I could vicariously experience but words in themselves? That didn’t make sense to me yet. Over the years I have come to know differently. I’ve learned to read and love poetry, to read it aloud and enjoy the resonance of words painstakingly chosen. I now know that words can be used to evoke happiness or heartbreak, fear or foreboding, they can create sounds and even music for those that can hear it. And they can be used to build otherworldly palaces made of ice of a beauty that is both extraordinary and deadly: It was a room of tears. The light in the glass walls was very weak, and the whole room seemed to trickle and weep with these falling drops in the half dark. Nothing had been built up there yet, the drops fell from the roof with a soft splash, down into each little pool of tears.This is one of the most lyrical passages in the book. But in general the author chooses ordinary everyday words and uses spare language to create this ethereal dreamworld of ice and snow with which to enchant his readers. He tells a haunting story of a budding friendship, of loss and a grief that incapacitates against the cycle of freezing winter and the thaws of spring. Greek mythology associates this cycle with the eternal struggle between life and death and though the latter will finally prove victorious when it is time, life too will claim its own victories. It seems fitting that just as with the coming of the warmer weather the gorgeous ice palace finally crumbles away our heroin’s grief also begins to thaw and life’s instincts gradually win her over.I'm only sorry I cannot read this in Norwegian, for if it was this beautiful in translation....

  • Nate D
    2019-04-06 12:35

    Frostily immaculate and mysterious as the titular ice formation. Tunnels of ice, spires of ice. Rooms with only entries and no exits that beckon, beckon.There's so much that fascinates here: the ethereal descriptions of northern landscapes, and accompanying slightly alien compassion of its communities, the inexpressible pre-sexual bonds of children, the inexpressible secrets and promises of self and other, the ice palace, always the ice palace. The simple direct language all the more capable of poetry, perfectly formed intercuts of non-narrative scenes (snow-fleas, birds of prey), heightening mood and quietly pulsing with the theme beneath the story. as water runs under ice.I seem to be more drawn to these compressed bursts of sheer otherworldy poetics lately, and this is a key example among those.

  • Emma
    2019-03-22 12:50

    There is a serious elegance to this little book. Set in Norway, The Ice Palace is the story of Siss and Unn, two eleven-year-old girls, and their brief but intense friendship. Vesaas’ approach to the insecurities and awkward communications of the two adolescent girls is dealt with so tenderly, it made my bones ache. The descriptions of ice and snow are vivid, beautiful. So vivid in fact, that half way through I started to feel cold. Seriously. The heating was turned on, a blanket was fetched, and a hot water bottle was cuddled during the few hours it took me to read The Ice Palace. That’s pretty impressive imagery to make me feel so present. In a lot of the music I like to play, there are examples of where composers use chords for their colour and texture, rather than any harmonic function. It adds, I believe, an element that the listener would not necessarily expect to hear, avoiding the use of traditional diatonic cadences. Debussy’s Sarabande is a good example of this. It struck me that Vesaas’ prose in The Ice Palace is like this; flowing, but not quite melodic, beautiful, but with an edge. It’s not your everyday prose. There is a beat, a rhythm, something in the construction of the words that gives the appearance of simplicity, but it has depth and a clarity that is undeniably difficult to achieve. I couldn’t stop thinking about Sarabande during my reading. It’s difficult to explain exactly what I mean, and i’m probably not communicating it very well, but to me at least, both the book and score have an intimate quality, a fluid approach to form, a heartbreaking and eerie element that is hard to settle into. There are many keys suggested throughout Sarabande, that are never quite reached, and when played there is a desire, at least by me, to resolve the tonic in the music. The varying harmonic contexts are subtle but intricate and like Siss and Unn’s friendship, there is an element of wonder, of discovery, of things unspoken and alluded to. I invested in the story emotionally, it tugged at my heart strings, it made me think, and left me feeling a little haunted. I think there is great imagination and originality in this tale.**************************************************Fun fact. I mentioned in the comments below that my hubby went on exercise to Norway when he was doing his arctic training, and it turns out that this was in Vinje, the village that Vesaas is from!

  • Stephen P
    2019-04-01 09:56

    A profound encapsulation of time, its passing, couched as a read for preteen girls, versed in the plain-speak of short sentenced nordic prose. Hmm.I read for a bit with a shoulder shrug but then I heard the words spoken out loud. Strange, it sounded much like my voice. Not my aloud but my inner voice. Swept suddenly along not an ice floe to grab onto I was within the story. The story was simple and sad. The main character, the hub of her clique at school is drawn to the newly arrived girl who keeps herself apart from others. At this girl’s aunt’s house, who also keeps to herself, Unn hints at a mysterious something which keeps her apart but she can’t quite talk about it. They are the same age, the same height, and when they hold a mirror up Siss sees they look alike, look as one, their eyes glowing. She leaves abruptly when this intimacy with Unn, this Other becomes too uncomfortable. The next day is a field trip at school to the river, the water falls, the ice where the water has frozen on its way down into passageways, doors, rooms of ice, forming a gleaming palace. Leaving her aunt’s house for school early the next morning Unn cannot see Siss so soon instead going on her own to the ice palace. There moving through the freezing fissures, the rents and bends, dens and rooms, she in her captivated wandering becomes lost. Then further lost. This brings all “the men” out to search, her agreeable but hermetic aunt forced to be in contact with others, and Siss and her father to also join the impossible task. Siss is asked many and continous questions, overwhelming, since she was the one who last saw Unn. When Unn after many, many days of searching is not found, Siss vows to only think of her due to their brief, unfinished but meaningful bond. She becomes Unn by now remaining apart from others at school. Becoming an Other scarred by loss. Possibly not only the loss of Unn but the discovery of this other self. The self that would venture into the mystical ice palace with its endless openings and closures, its movement and changes, its threat of its ultimate destruction. (Another Hmmm. A further understanding is surfacing?)From here we have in Vesaas’ meditative poetry in verse, a world in its pristine simplicity. Through this simplicity, without ever referring to it, naming it, the reader is presented with realities so large, so awesome, that I’ve never known anyone who to some degree does not shrink away from them.Vesaas’ book is a rare achievement. I have no feeling to stand up and cheer as I do when I read something extraordinary-the more I write this review the more I understand how extraordinary, The Ice Palace, is. The short simple style unfolding the tale feels light? Slight? But no, that is what sets this apart It is only after living through it that seeping through the simplicity is something explosive and at the core of meaning, at the core of otherness, mortality, the unrelenting indifferent passage of time.I must laugh now, for someone who reads slowly, analyzing as I go along, I was caught completely off guard, swept up in the narratives flow. Off guard is good. Along with the palpable beauty of his descriptions off guard is what Vesaas does best.

  • Paquita Maria Sanchez
    2019-03-28 11:56

    Based on the ratings, when I first started reading this and feeling unimpressed (and occasionally even a little annoyed), I half-convinced myself that the author had suffered his entire 73 years with a case of Imminent Death Syndrome, along with Male Pattern Baldness and Sorta-Looks-Like-Willem-Dafoe-itis. I was wrong says now-me to past-me, because this gets better and better the more you get used to the stilted prose, accept it as a voice for (admittedly a bit too sage and emotionally nuanced) 11-year-olds, consider that it is more a prose-poem than a novel and, as a result, immerse yourself in its mental pictures more than its storyline, and basically just turn off your mind, relax and floe down stream. (Badumchi!)There's this muffled crashing loveliness to this one, a sleepy suspense which is cultivated so meticulously yet subtly that it takes a few chapters to pick up on. Once the imagery seeps into your brain, though, it stains it all up in there with these snippety-quick screenshots, all black and white with just a dab of coolest blue. I don't know how to describe it except for that. Plot-wise, it is too simple to elaborate upon, since it's just a girl goes missing and her new friend dwells on the feelings of loss, death-acceptance, and pre-pubescent sexuality this series of events rouses in her. Basically, if a My Bloody Valentine album wrote a book, I'm guessing it would go a little something like this. Does that help? I sure hope so, because The End.

  • Ema
    2019-04-18 07:40

    A novel with a scarcity of words but with a delicate, dreamlike poetry; a story that makes you taste the coldness and isolation of winter in the middle of the summer; an adult writer who can see through the soul of an eleven year girl, down to her utmost fears; a remembrance of childhood with all its awkward moments; two girls that are linked in life and beyond; a secret that is never spoken, buried forever in ice; a promise that is kept, no matter if it brings estrangement; a wonder of nature, the ice palace, with its cold and deadly beauty.Siss, the privileged child who is the center of her group of friends, meets Unn, an orphaned girl who prefers to stay isolated. A silent and childish battle for power brings the two girls together for a single, but unforgettable evening. Attraction and rejection, awkward discovery of sexuality, a magical moment in the mirror. Unn wants to tell Siss a secret, but Siss is afraid to hear it, so she runs back home. Darkness and menacing figures creeping through the shadowy sides of the street. The next day, Unn doesn't show up at school. The frozen lake, the dark river, the huge cascade which has built a gorgeous palace of ice. Thrill of discovery, journey through mesmerizing rooms built by water and cold; an enigmatic eye that brings relief.A snow storm in the dark, twinkling flashes of light. People start looking for Unn, but she seems to be lost forever. Not in Siss' memory, though; she can't push into forgetfulness the one evening with a girl that deeply marks her soul. A window which opens mysteriously by itself; a vision of a face embedded in ice. Siss makes a promise that alienates her from her parents and friends. Just like their faces once became one in the mirror, Siss has taken hold of Unn's personality, prolonging her existence. At a first glance, the novel seems to be a children's tale, yet it is much more than that. Set in a land overcome with ice and snow, the likes of which Nordic writers are masterful portrayers, the story of Siss and Unn has the magnetic power of a folktale. Simple, yet mysterious and poetic, it will stay in my memory for a long time...

  • Mariel
    2019-03-23 13:33

    They were still dragging the river, downwards from the waterfall where there were pools. The ice-coated dragging poles stood in the snowdrifts at night, pointing upwards.All roads led to Auntie’s house. Everything collected there, all lines of communication met in this lonely woman, Unn’s sole anchor. The blind lanes crossed there at a clear, tearless point of intersection.‘I see,’ said Auntie.‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘It can’t be helped.’Unn’s anchor in life.What is the time it takes from when you begin in company and the scurrying noises on the floor kind of inkling that they are impaired in some way? Maybe you thought they could walk the same as you, see what you see, hear your tree falling in the woods because they were there with you. I lost my body/soul/heart mass since on The Ice Palace. I don’t know how much. I’m looking back from under my increasingly normal weight of under the water. I was trying too hard to feel what I would have felt in another me. My highest esteemed reads these days are less wholehearted personal connections with air to breathe inside, and more the desperate howl of a miserable dog who recognizes what’s wanting, can taste the scent of blood to be spilled. Vesaas’ The Birds spoke to the part of me that would give anything to have what the man-child Mattis could never achieve. I know it isn't true because I remember feeling the bittersweet smile when the lies take off the ground. That's what I miss, the time there's another truth inside the fantasy lie. I saw them and I lived in his book. To be whole as much as everyone else (I know that it isn’t true that “everyone else” has this and knowing this doesn’t happen at the same time as getting through another day of hoping no one else notices, to not damn functionality all to hell). I’m suspicious of what this “everyone else” is supposed to be. On the side of being the one with something missing I don’t have the slightest idea how to get it. Damn you Vesaas but The Ice Palace moved to the land of unknowable everyone else and I am citizen I have something missing and I don’t even know what it is (here’s to hoping no sicko added “Ask me how!” to the bottom of the nametag). Unn’s Auntie can give Siss permission on behalf of her niece to give up the unspoken promise to replace her life. When Siss steps closer to this what someone else says is true. When Siss says to herself can it be? When Siss can say yes it can. I wouldn't have believed either one. If she lives as the dead girl's shadow by the wall or if she gets up not from a helping hand (it could have been. I don't know if this is my part missing). If she was too tired to live as a person who says I am in love so they go on living day after day saying I am in love and how long would it take for you to notice that there's a hole? Is there any way of knowing? I can say she is too tired to keep to a promise she made when she didn't know where Unn's body was in the melting tear drop palace. I promise I will stay true to the love that was only so good as it was never said.I fell in love with a girl and she sat in the desk that remains empty until all of the good people who you know mean good because these are good people let in another girl, a real girl, not Unn's shadow and missing Siss. I fell in love away from the land where I was raised and where we all breathed together, making angels in the snow of class recess and follow the leader. Siss and Unn fell in love because they don't have to call it love. It is true because it cannot be a lie if they don't know what it is. She goes to her house, finally, after school. I wasn't in love with Siss who is in love with Unn who makes the rules because she stays by the wall. Let's, let's, let's and girlish secrets fading out into fading memories when days fall on like more snow. Unn's Auntie is on the horizon of lost girl secrets and I was not on the side of girlish secrets. When can Siss tell she isn't either? Don't say a word it is ruined if you say a word. Siss waits for the magic to happen. If she was a girl who thought very hard about what made her sad so she could cry until she felt sick on the bed. Unn runs away to the land of I threw myself into the frozen waterfall. I threw myself into the ice palace and I cried very hard until the tears stopped and you know how you feel sick when you've cried and you've wasted what made you really feel because you only wanted to cry. Unn's body is frozen and she becomes the wasted thought you only wanted so you could cry. Or was it to be in love. What would have happened if Unn with her don't speak you'll ruin it hopes had anywhere to go. I don't see anywhere else for it to go.When is Siss going to come back to us? Tell yourself you promised. Tell yourself you are keeping vigil for when she returned. What do the days look like on the other side where you used to play with the other kids? If I could have missed the other kids but she already was their born leader. Come back to us. Daughter to go home. Everyone cares, form a search party, did anyone care as much as you did Siss? How do you know who cares more, Siss? Was home alone in Unn's bedroom with the picture albums of it is only so good as long as it is a secret? Dead people in photographs. I wouldn't know who was related to who. I remember the all important girlhood friendships. I couldn't make them mad. I wasn't allowed the junk food and that was a major detriment to possible popularity. When did it stop being important? It had to have stopped being important. I should be able to believe that Siss gave up at some time on this promise to save Unn's spot. Auntie gives her the permission because who else could? I can't think of anything wrong with this and yet I can't remember how to do the inside shift when you can let go. I probably didn't love Unn to begin with. She says let's take off our clothes. They are childhood secrets and let's forget about the world we are used to and hold our breaths just to see if we could. I would have found her to be a tyrant in her bedroom with her mysterious dead mother and missing father. You aren't allowed to ask me about this. What are secret notes passed under the desk and what does it look like in the world that's just for you, like this? I don't remember what it looks like. Mother and father are worried about you. There are rules and there are white skies above of questions.There are questions about the secret. Does Siss know anything about what happened to Unn. The adults, the search party. The town is the search party. The kids whisper. What was before turns into that and then it is back to what it was, town and kids. When does Siss turn back into what she was into? How was she what she was? The little girl in the bed without their questions over her head of what she knew. When the white memories were noises and then snow on the tv when more days blur them out. When do you become what you are and how does that turn into the shift that Auntie can tell you you can be who you were again? How could Siss be so important when all she was was a secret that was good when it couldn't be spoken, ruined when it was? So how do you spend time with people, when is the time enough to be a life and when do you know it is missing? They wanted Siss back. What was in her that Unn had to be the secret? I don't know what to do with either Siss as Unn or Siss as Siss that was born. I feel cold about not knowing and it has been bothering me that I don't know. I want to feel something that is specific to Siss. What does she want? To give up the struggle and be born Siss? But who is Siss, who are the town and the kids and who was Unn? I follow Unn's Shadow by the wall and I stare and I wish the drowning feeling would disappear and it would be a life but a life you feel, not other shadows made from structures of unmovable because it's born. I probably do know this struggle it's the I'm not struggling because I gave up to smother. It is the blanket of despair, like cold you no longer feel as cold past freezing. But I was drowned before I got there and I was drowning when I realized I was talking to these girls who had the part missing of knowing why the hell they were doing this to begin with. I want to see the family and the people in the town and play and feel free because you want to. When does the shift happen so you can know what it felt like again? If Auntie can take it away what does the helping hand look like? Is the burden lifted because you felt close or was it another form of being too tired to cry? Was she just born that way, to cry like this, to will herself to be a shadow? I wish I felt it as I knew her, not someone to talk to myself about in a this is how it happens and this was the part and it added up to that part. How long do I gotta talk to myself before it stops doing that?

  • Nidhi Singh
    2019-04-19 05:32

    It started with a glance. It ran high as a fever. It swept the frosty roads and froze into the green ice palace. It sought its labyrinths, breathed in its strangeness. It settled deep inside Siss. It was the greatest treasure she wrapped under her coat in that most difficult winter of all. Promise in deepest snow from Siss to Unn:I promise to think about no one but you.To think about everything I know about you.It was the promise that gave Siss the solemnity she needed for Unn. Something that would in some way make right the unfairness of it all. The feverish excitement of the evening, the awkwardness that was made easy by one or the other, the bond that was electric in its instantaneousness, and that secret that was left unspoken. It meant to enfold many more evenings together; of gleams and radiance, of deepest moments of friendship. This couldn’t just be the end of it. To think of Unn, to think of her as there somewhere; lost but nevertheless meaning to return. And to never let that empty spot ever be filled by anyone but Unn. It was a gift only Siss has and she guards it with vehement force. She extends Unn’s presence amid everything. There is the same strength in her loneliness as she stands aloof from others.But the ice palace will be soon destroyed, and then it will look just as before, only the savage waterfall that concerns no one, that fills the air and shakes the earth and will never come to an end. Everything will go on as before, Siss.Siss realises that it’s over now. The ice will soon melt. That evening frozen in time, the vision of that face she beheld in those walls of ice; it will soon be lost in the water. The promise will be broken. And that’s the end of it. The Ice Palace crumbles down. The river descends with the weight of new water.

  • Matteo Fumagalli
    2019-03-31 08:50


  • Amorfna
    2019-04-20 06:44

    Minimalističko remek delo.Apsolutno ne knjiga za svačiji ukus. Mislim da će za većinu fokus biti na subjektivnom osećaju koji ostaje posle čitanja. A to zavisi od samog karaktera i prijemčivosti za ovakve knjige.Za mene je ovo jedna od onih knjiga o kojima zapravo i ne želim mnogo da razgovaram,želim samo da iznova i iznova proživljavam utisak koji je na mene ostavila.Postoji mali broj stvari koje mene, kao inače prilično neurotičan karakter, smiruju. More tmurnim danima, LED sijalice, ribarski čamci i ribarske mreže, jorgovan , prazan prostor,brezina kora i ovakve knjige.Opšte prihvaćen stav je da su opisi divni, ali da je radnja tanka, neuverljiva i da je naravno knjiga generalno spora. Meni je priča predivna.Mnogo neizgovorenih reči i tajni, prožetih snagom detinje uobrazilje koje gradi neraskidivu vezu između dve devojčice koje se zapravo i ne poznaju niti imaju razloga da pate jedna za drugom, ali osećaju posebnu sponu koja usled događaja koji slede nikada i neće biti uništena ili obezvređena odrastanjem, svim onim iskustvima koje bi humanizovale taj odnos i svele ga na ono što nazivamo normalnim prijateljstvom. Ceo narativ je kontradiktorni spoj tišine, spokoja ali i osećaja zlokobnog koji vreba negde u senkama. Plamen leda.Nisam dovoljno elokventna da opišem zaista svoje utiske, pa ću da sačuvam ovo malo kredibiliteta što mi je ostalo i da odem da bojim bojanku za odrasle da se smirim.

  • Dajana
    2019-04-13 10:38

    Pročitala sam maločas u Matici, podstaknuta besnim urednikom, otud shizofrenično paralelno čitanje. Vesos je sve ono što bi Bariko hteo da bude kad poraste, ali ne može. xD Poznato je da nisam obožavalac Barikovih eksperimenata posebno jer mi se čini da mnogi pisci nemaju sposobnost da delo koje nije precizno određeno u vremenu i prostoru (u smislu da može biti bilo ko, bilo gde, bilo kad) uverljivo napišu. Za početak, Dereta je u opisu malčice... Neću reći omašila, ali neprecizno i malčice olako odredila ovo kao 'roman o prijateljstvu dveju devojčica'. Za početak, ovo je žanrovski vrlo neuhvatljivo delo, i pre bih rekla da je u pitanju lirski roman, a da li su u pitanju dve ili jedna devojčica - u tome je, čini mi se, i čitava tajna dela. Naime, ja bih rekla da je Un koja nestaje u ledenom dvorcu alter ego Sis kojoj odrastanje, promene na telu i doživljaj sveta izazivaju izvesna psihološka stanja koja Vesos slikovito projektuje na pejzaž. Ovo je, naravno, samo jedno moguće tumačenje, ali mi se bukvalno shvatanje narativa čini preterano površnim, posebno s obzirom na upadljive sličnosti sa Bergmanovom Personom i naglašene metafore (ptica koja se kida u letu, poklon koji dolazi u toku noći (menstruacija? hm) i menja je, uživljavanje u ulogu druge devojčice, motiv 'povratka' sebi i u sebe).Mislim da je ovo delo zanimljivo za književne klubove jer dozvoljava baš razne interpretacije s obzirom na mesta neodređenosti. Meni se izuzetno dopalo jer mislim da nigde nije preterao, upao u patetiku (a opasnost je baš velika -> Bariko) ili rizikovao da bude dosadan i naporan. Ako je stil možda jednostavan u smislu da nije leksički i sintaksički zahtevan, svet dela je itekako kompleksan i ne bih se usudila da ga nazovem 'minimalističkim delom' ni u kom smislu.Raduju me utisci drugih čitalaca i potražiću ovih dana prikaze jer me baš zanima kakva su rešenja ponudili. Radujem se 'Pticama', čitaću ih ovih dana, pa verujem da će utisak biti potpuniji. :)Edit: Pronašla sam čarobnu studiju o ovom delu, ali ne mogu da je linkujem jer je nisam baš legalo nabavila (ups). Ako neko želi da mu prosledim, slobodno neka mi se javi. Retko je naći tako pažljivu studiju, i tako sadržajnu na dvadesetak strana.

  • Jeff Jackson
    2019-04-04 13:32

    I recommend checking out the excellent reviews by the trio of initialed men: Nate D., M. Kitchell, and s.penkevich. Like them, I thoroughly enjoyed this novel, though perhaps I was unduly influenced by having read Vessas' "The Bridges" a few weeks earlier. Both books recount stories about young people and Vesass's simple prose occasionally feels too over-explanatory until you realize the vast chasms of unspoken detail that lie at the very core of these trauma-stricken narratives. These novels jealously keep their secrets to themselves. "The Ice Palace" in particular bravely resists explaining the urgent message that Unn has to convey and the exact nature of the attraction between her and Siss. There's an oneiric power to the prose that's gripping throughout, particularly anytime we get close to the ice palace itself. I found "The Bridges" to be slightly bolder in its perspective shifts and more haunting in its aftermath, but both novels deserve far more readers - like you! I'm looking forward to checking out more of Vessas's work shortly.

  • Bruce
    2019-04-21 11:33

    This short and marvelous novel was published in 1963 by the Norwegian novelist Tarjei Vesaas, its translation by Elizabeth Rokkan following three years later. The story is simple and quickly told. In a rural village eleven-year-old classmates, Siss and Unn, who have not been close, spend an emotionally charged evening together, forming a fierce and indelible bond. The next day Unn, uncertain about facing Siss so soon after their experience, skips school and explores an ice palace formed by an immense waterfall at the outlet of a nearby lake. Becoming lost inside it, she dies of hypothermia. The rest of the book, the last two of three parts, relates Siss’s coming to terms with the tragedy and, in so doing, moving into maturity.Vesaas’ writing is crystalline, as simple, spare, and brittle as his haunting descriptions of the Norwegian winter with its darkness, biting cold, wind, ice, and snow. His simple and often repetitive sentences perfectly fit the starkness of the landscape and narrative as well as the fixed determination of the characters. He is able to capture the feelings and interactions of both adults and children perfectly. Yet within this apparent simplicity dwell ambiguities – secrets, mysteries, erotic stirrings, and fusions of identities that create nuance and shiftings felt rather than articulated. Indeed, much of what Veraas has to communicate cannot be directly stated, only implied and suggested. He is sensitive to the meanings and emotions that lie just outside of consciousness and that determine our longings, motivations, and uncertainties, whatever our age. In this book are found loneliness and love, isolation and caring.This is a wonderful book, easily read in a long evening, a book worthy of wider dissemination that haunts one long after the last page has been turned.

  • Sofia
    2019-04-16 09:56

    Afraid of the dark? No. Bright woodwind players had appeared and were walking along the sides of the road.Read this during an ongoing depressive episode, but still found it magical, the tenderness of its narration, its maturation. Alas, its first few scenes are its best, or perhaps my mood simply took a downturn thereafter, a tension, assumed importance, an apprehensive hope. (view spoiler)[When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a [wo]man, I put away childish things. A girl runs home: a mistake, but her fear is assuaged upon approaching her house: mine mounts, having to pause to open the door, forcing myself to look around, to make certain I am alone. I hadn't felt as I did as I read this book since reading Let the Right One In, after having watched the film, however briefly, accurately captured mysteries of childhood, hinted toward, perhaps, now that I think about it, in the works of Wallace. A secret is left unsaid. It was only her to whom she might've opened up, but she did not, and it shall remain, remain to be forgotten. Full stops in all the right. Places. I'd imagined it would look different to her when she was alone, that she would slip out of her window. I imagined her finding her there, wrapping her up in her coat, sitting down beside her, keeping her company. The Ice Palace returned the next year. (She can't leave) Gone. Without a trace. (It was here)The colour of her clothes. Not a vision: a refraction. When they don't take the chance, she feels they're planning something, reality fracturing. Power. Mattis, from The Birds, described as mentally disabled, might well be similar: this might be his Thing. It's all very sad, but I'm left satisfied, though I'd hoped I wouldn't be. (hide spoiler)]

  • knig
    2019-03-22 11:40

    This is the kind of book (goes down pat in under two hours, btw), where the reviews will utilise more lyrical lingua than actually sourced in the text: it is that sparse and economical with its prose. Written as if for children but with a message no child will understand, it invokes long forgotten memories of Andersen’s ‘The Snow Queen’ and ‘The Little Match Girl’ (the ONLY tale, apart from Wildes ‘The Happy Prince’ which ever made me cry....and still does, even though now that I’m older and wiser it may be more of a Pavlovian response). There is something about Scandinavians and snow: they do it like no one else on this earth: to describe the Ice Palace a la Andersen/Grimm/Vesaas mode requires more than just raw imagination: it takes perhaps a lifetime of a soul hued with the ice of the unforgiving Nordic North to be able to render it so profoundly. And of course, the long, dark winters (the sun never rises for three months on end up there) are the perfect catalyst for a corresponding séance of depression and all the morbid, macabre mental flares that end up in informing so much of Scandinavian literature. I think.

  • Jamie
    2019-04-06 11:33

    I have this tucked away corner of a shelf with a small stack of books, a treasure trove of only the most specific kind of simple, magical, eerie, uncannily wise books. Saved up, tucked aside, bottled away, just in case there’s one day, off chance, wild notion, life gets inadvertently full of little tangled limbs and skint knees who clamor for bedtime stories with sleepy eyes. “Break glass in case of kids,” it could say. They are not children’s books. But, somehow, they are the books that belong to the world children inhabit already, the ones that give us, all grown up, merely a taste and a too-brief pass into the way we used to have the world ourselves. This is one such book, striking and surreal and under glass. Perfect for now, and saved up for one day, maybe.“It had been a time of snow and a time of death and of closed bedrooms— and she had arrived bang on the other side of it, her eyes dimming for joy because a boy had said, ‘You with the dimples.’“Woodwind players are walking at the sides of the road. You walk as fast as you can, and wish at the same time that the road would never end.”

  • Jacob Appel
    2019-04-02 13:32

    This is the novel that will make you want to learn Norwegian.....A short poetic volume that is part schoolyard romance, part winter wonderland, The Ice Palace explores the intense bonds of friendship that form at the brink of adolescence--and the pain when such bonds are severed in their infancy. Vesaas's simple yet lyrical prose captures perfectly the world of eleven-year-old Siss and adds a poignant urgency to her hopes. At once both familiar and inscrutable, this is a truly original work -- one impossible to replicate or demystify. In the masterful eyes of this gifted writer, the ice palace transforms from a landmark of the Norwegian cold into a universal trove of childhood wonders.

  • Sinem A.
    2019-04-16 05:59

    "Çok basit bir öyküyü, çok basit kelimelerle nasıl bir şiire dönüştürürüz?" sorusuna verilmiş güzel bir kitap. Örnek bir alıntı vermek gerekirse;“Bir giz var burada. İçlerindeki bütün kederi açığa vuruyor ve onu, ışığın bu geceyarısı oyununa ve ölüm kuşkusuna bırakıyorlar. Ve onlar büyülenmekle oyalanıyorlar. Buzun ıssız köşeleri arasında dağılmış durumdalar, fenerlerden çapraz ışıklar parlıyor, bunlar başka yarıklardan ve prizmalardan yansıyan ışıklarla karşılaşıyor, tümden yeni yeni ışınlar parlıyor ve gene çarçabuk silinip gidiyorlardı bütün bütün. Onu o kadar iyi tanıyorlar ki, titriyorlar. Tehlikeli o, fakat yapmak istiyorlar, ona katılmak zorundalar. Eğer bir kapı varsa, sadece öyle göründüğünden bu.”

  • Vit Babenco
    2019-04-20 08:44

    The Ice Palace depicts a quite unusual psychological climate.Shocked by disappearance of her friend Siss experiences a deep psychological trauma…“The ice construction rises above them, enigmatic, powerful, its pinnacles disappearing into the darkness and the winter cloud drift. It seems prepared to stand eternally… There is something secret here. They bring out what sorrows they may have and transfer them to this midnight play of light and suspicion of death… The men are lost in the game at the ice palace. They seem possessed, searching feverishly for something precious that has come to grief, yet involved themselves. They are tired, grave men, giving themselves over as sacrifices to an enchantment, saying: It is here. They stand at the foot of the ice walls with tense faces, ready to break into a song of mourning before the closed, compelling palace.”The ice palace creates an atmosphere of icy Gothic and it literally exudes gelid charms…So under a mental stress Siss gives a vow: “I promise to think about no one but you. To think about everything I know about you. To think about you at home and at school and on the way to school. To think about you all day long, and if I wake up at night.”And this promise is an extremely taxing burden. But spring comes and ice starts melting…“No one can witness the fall of the ice palace. It takes place at night, after all the children are in bed.”Adolescence wins and Siss is freed from lethal spells of winter.

  • Çavlan
    2019-04-20 13:33

    I'm re-reading some of my old favorites this month. It has been over ten years since I've read them, so can't wait to see if I'll still enjoy them as much. Update: Just as good as all those years ago. Such a strong, disturbing, unique and unforgettable novel.

  • Deea
    2019-03-23 06:57

    Astonishing prose!