Mysteries; Knut Hamsun

Knut Hamsun (1859 - 1953) was a Norwegian author who won the Nobel Prize in literature in 1920. Later he faced severe criticism for his political views, which included a distaste for democracy and a prejudice towards the English, going so far as to indicate that he preferred German presence in Norway because it would prevent an English invasion. His attitudes towards Hitler were even more controversial. He visited the German leader and spent the entire time talking madly and loudly about Norway and was one of the few people in the world ever to get away with being rude to Hitler. But, he praised Hitler as an idealist, although he also indicated that he knew nothing of the atrocities inflicted upon the Jews, which was a truth because Hamsun basically lived an isolated and removed life. Regardless, its his writing that interests me, and if Paul Auster, who is Jewish, can speak highly of his work, his personal history can be overlooked. Although, it does shed some light on his writing.

In Mysteries, a 29 year old Nagel wanders into a small coastal town wearing a peculiar yellow suit and ends up spending the summer with the locals. Initially, we do not know anything about Nagel and instead the focus of the writing is not upon Nagel himself, but the characters who inhabit the seaside town. What came to mind was FBI Special Agent, Dale Cooper, from Lynch's Twin Peaks, the outsider's intrigued viewing with the town's inhabitants and their inner secrets and workings. However, the novel makes a peculiar change in perspective as the writing becomes less and less about the town's characters and more and more about Nagel himself, and its the mystery of Nagel that becomes the drive of the novel, rather than the mystery of the town.

As Nagel carries on his solipsistic life (and what makes this an interesting read as early post-modern literature), the reader never quite finds out exactly who Nagel might be, a confusion shared by the characters of the town as well. As Nagel interacts with the population, he develops facades as to what his past might contain and what his intentions are with his temporary residency. He's a character beyond the normal stream of just the ironic or contradictory, but headlong into his own dramatics where the soliloquy isn't just held to the emotionally decisive moments, where the inner character becomes revealed to the reader, but is an ongoing and unstoppable creation based upon the whims of Nagel. In other words, Nagel is drunk on himself. And while the reader wonders and thinks about the actions of Nagel and possible explanations for his behaviors, the reader enters into the story at the same level as the town folk, or even actually Nagel himself.

Penning a novel in this fashion allows ideas to easily float through the narrative. Also, there is the mulling around the idea of what one's self might be and how its construction occurs, as similar to Nietzsche's Superman (which was an influence upon Hamsun). And not to forget the comedy developed, especially when Nagel has his run of fancy while attempting to win the favors of whatever heart he might be longing to capture. And after reading the novel, it could be surmised that its Nagel's affections for women that becomes the catalyst for turning the focus of the narrative away from those he witnesses to his own personal self-made opera:

He ambled around, obviously trying to while away a few hours. When the town came to life, he stationed himself at the post office by the marketplace. His eyes carefully scrutinized the passers-by, and when he caught sight of Martha Gude's green skirt, he immediately walked up to her.

Another precipitous factor for the turn of the novel might be the aftermath from a few good nights of wine drinking, which when occurring in excess results in pages of non-stop monologues that run the gamut of dreams to the shallowness of Tolstoy and his selfishness at attempting selflessness. But is there anything to be understood and learned from the drunken barcaroles? Or, are they songs only and nothing to be held onto very seriously the next morning? Nagel's own words answer best:

"It's very simple: what are we gaining- excuse me if I'm repeating myself -what are we gaining by a pragmatism that robs our life of poetry, dreams, mysticism- are these all lies? What is truth? Can you tell me that? We can only struggle along by using symbols, and we change them as we alter our views. By the way, let's not neglect our drinks."

I'm with Nagel up to the point about changing the symbols as we change our views. In a very broad, cultural sense this is true, but Nagel's character seems to represent the small scale. I would define symbols as those found in the artistic and spiritual traditions. Images that are larger than ourselves and either contain or are based upon historic understandings and means that have withstood the test of time. Changing them as we wish, at least at an immediate and individualistic level, implies malleability, which runs contrary to the power contained within symbols, the powers that provide guidance, the something that we can trust that's larger than ourselves or others. Their worth proven inherent, what keeps our views in check.