Forethoughts: Shallow Soil by Knut Hamsun

Having now come to the end of the first novel I was reading for my Totally Knut reading project, it’s time to move on to the second – Shallow Soil (Ny Jord), the fourth of Hamsun’s novels to be published, in the autumn of 1893 ¹ For my journey through Shallow Soil I’m reading the original 1914 English edition, translated by Carl Christian Hyllested. The cover shot you see to the left is the same translation (in this case published by Bibliobazaar), but I’m reading the electronic version of it, which is freely available from the Knut Hamsun webpage on the University of Adelaide website.

So, what do I know about Shallow Soil? Well, surprisingly little. If I thought that Hamsun’s last novel, Mysteries had been largely overlooked by the literary world in general, then it would seem that Shallow Soil has received even less attention over the years. I do know that the theme of the novel is a step away from the more rural-flavoured literary creation that Hamsun is more noted for. In fact the novel returns once more to Christiania (now Oslo of course) – scene of Hamsun’s first novel, Hunger – but this time around there is no focus on manic down-and-out writers living on the very fringes of self-destruction. Instead, Shallow Soil hones in on bohemian Norway, or more particularly, as Hamsun’s biographer puts it, ‘the artistic milieux of Oslo, that Hamsun held in such contempt’.²

So it looks like Hamsun may be using this novel to have a bit of a pop at certain fellows – no surprise given the harsh treatment that Hamsun endured at the time at the hands of critics and peers alike – but thankfully, if the 1910 writings of German literary critic Professor Carl Morburger are to be believed, then Shallow Soil is way much more than a straightforward political tirade:³

Not only is this book Knut Hamsun’s most significant work, but it gives the very best description available of life in Christiania towards the close of the century. A book of exquistie lyric beauty, of masterly psychology, and finished artistic form, it is so rich in idea and life that one must refrain from touching on the contents in order to keep within the narrow limits of this essay. A most superbly delicate delineation of the feminine soul is here given in the drawing of Hanka and Aagot; nowhere else is woman’s love in its dawn and growth described with such mastery, with a deftness and sureness of touch which reminds one of the very greatest passages in that Danish classic, Niels Lyhne.

So high praise indeed from Morburger – especially when he puts the novel somewhat on a par with that classic from great Danish novelist Jens Peter Jacobsen – and it gives hope that Shallow Soil isn’t going to be the dense politically driven novel that I thought it was going to be. If further proof were needed that Shallow Soil isn’t as dense as I expect it to be, then in his introduction to the novel translator Hyllested states that the novel is, in 1913 when the intro was written at least, ‘the most contained of Hamsun’s works and best suited as a medium for his introduction to Anglo-Saxon readers.’

And so the novel’s translator bills Shallow Soil as the being perfect Hamsun sampler for the English-speaking reader. It all sounds reassuring enough, even if a bit of bias has crept into that assertion, as is often the case when the translator pens their own introduction. Regardless, I’m split. If Shallow Soil is as good as Hyllested and Morburger say it is, then how come it’s distribution in English isn’t as widespread as say Hunger or Growth of the Soil? Has it simply been overlooked, or is it the case that Shallow Soil is just not considered worthy enough for contemporary translation? I simply don’t know, and the only way I’m going to find out is of course, is to read it.

And so read it I shall as I embark on a new journey into the wonderful literary world of Hamsun. And it’s a ‘journey’ which fills me with much excitement. ‘Excitement’ at the prospect of finding out just how well Shallow Soil measures up against the real jewel in Hamsun’s literary repertoire up to that point, Hunger. ‘Excitement’ at the prospect of discovering exactly why Morburger hailed this one such a classic. And ‘excitement’ at the prospect of discovering just how the much Hamsun’s critics and those who oppose him had really got to him at this point; whether Hamsun’s disconcertion with the literary world around him is reflected in his prose.

Certainly, at the time that Shallow Soil was published, Hamsun was on the point of despair. He had only just sent the final installment of Shallow Soil off to his publishers when he suffered a minor breakdown, which brought with it floods of self doubt. It was a breakdown brought on by vilifying comments published in the Norwegian newspaper Morgenbladet, and Hamsun’s despair is no better illustrated than in a letter he sent to good friends Bolette and Ole Larsen on 30th October 1893.⁴ In the letter Hamsun claims to feel deprived of all honour, all talent, all decency. And he asks whether there is something about his person or something in his writing that causes people to treat him like that? All of these feelings of self doubt and despair at the exact time that Shallow Soil was published? I think that this is going to be one very interesting novel indeed.

Note: This novel is being read as part of Totally Knut; an ongoing reading project in which I aim to digest the entire English-translated bibliography of Norwegian writer, Knut Hamsun.

A note about forethoughts
‘Forethoughts’ offer an insight into what my initial thoughts and impressions of a book are before I begin reading it. Informal, and largely written as a stream-of-consciousness exercise in a single sitting, my ‘forethoughts’ capture an important stage of the reading experience for me – the anticipatory period before the book is first opened, when my excitement is piqued for the reading experience which lies ahead.

Blissfully ignorant my ‘forethoughts’ may well be, but when combined with my eventual ‘afterthoughts’, the result is a unique and comprehensive record of a very personal literary ‘journey’ through a particular book; a literary journey which will hopefully be of some value to other readers.