![]() ![]() I did not remember at all who these people were. I began the third book in Sigrid Undset's novels about medieval Norway, The Cross-my Christmas tradition for the past few years-utterly confused. To the world she had given herself up in her youth, and the more she struggled and fluttered in the world's snare, the more straitly she found herself bound and prisoned by the world. ![]() She had laid open her shielded, tender girlhood's life to ravaging, fleshly love-in dread, in dread she had lived ever since, a bondswoman from the first hour of her motherhood. It minded and minded her of somewhat-of a time endlessly long since-even then she had known that she could not bear the lot she had chosen for herself. The changeless roar of the falls went quivering through her overwrought body and soul. ![]()
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May 2023
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