Review of Against My Dreams:
Poetry: take time to ponder. Linda Strever chronicles, in blank verse, the history of her grandmother’s immigration from Norway. Simple. Spare. Bare. This narrative captures the imagination, asking the reader to fill in between the lines, to flesh out the details amid the architectural support of the stanzas.
Strever does not circumnavigate. Difficult topics often require introspection, and the courage to unravel one’s thoughts. Yet . . . certain topics require being bold, getting to the heart of the matter straight away. Strever does not mince words.
Historical tradition, defined gender roles, hard work, respect for elders, and marveling at small pleasures are the broad brush strokes Strever employs to elucidate Gunnhild’s life, from relatively scant documentary evidence. Re-tracing the migration movement in reverse, nearly 100 years later, Strever finds solace and understanding while engaged in a journey into another era.
Centering the events of the twentieth-century, Strever commands readers to recall their own family history and relatives, alongside the narrative. . . . Life is not easy, for any generation, Strever’s lines indicate, with grace and brevity.
Yet, a glimmer of hope and a joyfulness of spirit, and gladness of the heart is pervasive throughout the volume.
Strever will tug at your heartstrings, pull forth nearly forgotten details, things remembered from a childhood long ago. She speaks the language of love and longing for her Norwegian roots. While this text will be work, it is deeply rewarding. Take time from today’s overly electronics-laden communications to step back to another state of mind, a parallel: time past in time present.
Excerpted from a review appearing in Døtre av Norge (Daughters of Norway) by K. Cahill, Ph.D.
Poetry: take time to ponder. Linda Strever chronicles, in blank verse, the history of her grandmother’s immigration from Norway. Simple. Spare. Bare. This narrative captures the imagination, asking the reader to fill in between the lines, to flesh out the details amid the architectural support of the stanzas.
Strever does not circumnavigate. Difficult topics often require introspection, and the courage to unravel one’s thoughts. Yet . . . certain topics require being bold, getting to the heart of the matter straight away. Strever does not mince words.
Historical tradition, defined gender roles, hard work, respect for elders, and marveling at small pleasures are the broad brush strokes Strever employs to elucidate Gunnhild’s life, from relatively scant documentary evidence. Re-tracing the migration movement in reverse, nearly 100 years later, Strever finds solace and understanding while engaged in a journey into another era.
Centering the events of the twentieth-century, Strever commands readers to recall their own family history and relatives, alongside the narrative. . . . Life is not easy, for any generation, Strever’s lines indicate, with grace and brevity.
Yet, a glimmer of hope and a joyfulness of spirit, and gladness of the heart is pervasive throughout the volume.
Strever will tug at your heartstrings, pull forth nearly forgotten details, things remembered from a childhood long ago. She speaks the language of love and longing for her Norwegian roots. While this text will be work, it is deeply rewarding. Take time from today’s overly electronics-laden communications to step back to another state of mind, a parallel: time past in time present.
Excerpted from a review appearing in Døtre av Norge (Daughters of Norway) by K. Cahill, Ph.D.