A powerful examination of conscience with ‘Kristin Lavransdatter’

Photo by Ava Frecker

“Kristin Lavransdatter” by Sigrid Undset has been on my to-read list for years. If you listen to Catholic podcasts or follow other literary-minded Catholics on social media, chances are you’ve heard someone talk about this Norwegian epic but, like me, felt too intimidated to pick it up. Don’t get me wrong: I love long books. But a 1100-word tome is a commitment, even for an avid reader like myself. 

So, when a friend invited me to join a book club last fall and read “Kristin Lavransdatter” together, I knew the accountability was the best way to read this highly acclaimed novel.  

I recently finished reading “Kristin Lavransdatter” (it took about six months to get through it with my book club), and let me tell you: It’s worth the time. From the beautiful imagery to the realistic characters to the consistent drama, “Kristin” is one of the most human books I’ve ever read. Based in 14th-century Norway amid a Catholic backdrop, “Kristin” journeys through the life of one woman and her loved ones — their highs and lows, their virtues and vices. No one character is perfect, and if read with an open heart, the book can serve as a powerful examination of conscience. 

If you’ve been curious about reading Undset’s widely recommended novel, here are some main takeaways that might convince you to pick it up.

No one character is perfect, and if read with an open heart, the book can serve as a powerful examination of conscience.

(Note: There will be some minor spoilers — hopefully no more than you would gather from reading the back cover summary — so if you would prefer to read the book without any further context, just pick it up!)

The power of communication

Good communication makes a good relationship. Poor communication makes a poor relationship. We’ve all experienced or heard of instances where miscommunication or a lack of communication caused unnecessary tension and consequences. Well, “Kristin Lavransdatter” is basically a medieval soap opera; the drama keeps you hooked, and there is poor communication everywhere.

So much of the drama, heartbreak, and even death could have been avoided if people spoke more clearly — or at all — with one another. Relational insecurities would have been resolved; marriages would have been strengthened; parents would have better guided their children. And isn’t that life? “Kristin” is relatable and compelling, leading readers to examine how their communication styles may be impacting their own relationships. 

“Kristin Lavransdatter” is basically a medieval soap opera; the drama keeps you hooked, and there is poor communication everywhere.

Vices and virtues

It doesn’t take long to realize that Undset created whole characters with both vices and virtues, not stereotypes that are either good or bad. And their vices are often what drive the plot and drama in Kristin’s story. Certain characters are headstrong and passionate. Some are careless with their words and actions. Even the characters who seem superior to the rest have their own pitfalls, such as struggling with obedience to Church authorities or experiencing difficulty expressing love to their spouse. 

One character in particular holds grudges easily. When someone hurts her or neglects her, even if she outwardly appears to have forgiven that person and moved on, she hasn’t; in her mind and her heart, she’s holding on to the wrongs of the other, further fueling tensions. 

I saw myself in this character. Frequently, I find myself reliving conversations (especially arguments or disagreements) I’ve had with someone, imagining what I could have said differently to defend myself and make myself seem more in the right. Worse, I often imagine a conversation before it has happened, anticipating how a loved one might react or what he or she might say — and usually, my mind paints them in the wrong. I’ve imagined arguments with my husband that never occurred or, when brought to reality, went much smoother than my mind predicted. This vice born out of past wrongs does nothing to help my current relationships. Reading “Kristin” called me out on this sin, and now I’m trying to catch myself before my brain spirals too much. 

The point is: If you read this book, you will likely see yourself in at least one of the characters. That’s a sign of good literature: It challenges us out of bad habits and complacency with our own character.

The point is: If you read this book, you will likely see yourself in at least one of the characters. That’s a sign of good literature.

A father’s love

The plot of human history — humanity turning from God and God calling us back to him — is also central to “Kristin Lavransdatter.” While the story is set in Catholic Norway, Catholicism was still new to the country at the time, meaning that certain pre-Christian norms, such as unchastity among priests and treating prayer to the saints in a superstitious manner, had not yet been eradicated. 

While Kristin is raised in a devout Catholic household and is given the best foundation to have a beautiful spiritual life, she doesn’t always realize this gift. The same is true for many Catholics today. How many of us know a friend or family member who was raised in the fullness of the Faith and has since left the Church? 

And yet, God the Father is always calling his beloved children home. The title of the book points to this theme, referencing a child in light of her father. Kristin’s father, Lavrans, though imperfect in his own regard, images God the Father’s steadfast love. 

Not only is God always calling us back to him, but he never forces us to follow his will for our lives. When we make small turns away from God, these small instances of turning our backs on him can have long-lasting, life-altering consequences. And yet, there is hope; no sin is too great for God to forgive. Kristin and many other characters in the novel experience an ebb and flow of faith, of striving for God’s will or their own. But none are beyond the extent of God’s mercy, if only they would ask for it. 

The plot of human history — humanity turning from God and God calling us back to him — is also central to “Kristin Lavransdatter.”

How to best read ‘Kristin Lavransdatter’

Still not sure you want to read “Kristin Lavransdatter”? Here is some advice that might make it more manageable. 

• “Kristin” is divided into three parts: “The Wreath,” “The Wife,” and “The Cross.” Instead of choosing the three-part volume, pick up each part as a separate book. You will trick your mind into thinking you’ve accomplished more with each book. 

• Listen to “Kristin Lavransdatter” as an audiobook. Hearing the names pronounced aloud may even help you keep track of the many characters. 

• Read the book with a friend or a book club. Not only is the accountability helpful, but frequent discussion of the book can offer clarity regarding the plot and lead to deep conversations.

It can seem daunting to pick up an epic if you are most familiar with quick beach reads or 10-second captions on social media. But don’t let that keep you from challenging your brain and your heart.

Ava Frecker is the founder and editor of Caeli. She is a midwestern girl with a heart for supporting people’s stories. She’s also a Jane Austen enthusiast, chai tea addict, grammar activist, amateur sourdough baker, and gal pal to St. Thérèse — on whose feast day she married her beloved, Dominic. They now have their sweet boy, Linus. Follow her on Instagram @avalalor.