{"id":274356,"date":"2009-10-16T14:00:19","date_gmt":"2009-10-16T14:00:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.wdev.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent-dev\/2009\/10\/16\/the-discoverer-by-jan-kjaerstad-part-v-of-v\/"},"modified":"2018-04-16T17:15:21","modified_gmt":"2018-04-16T17:15:21","slug":"the-discoverer-by-jan-kjaerstad-part-v-of-v","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/2009\/10\/16\/the-discoverer-by-jan-kjaerstad-part-v-of-v\/","title":{"rendered":"The Discoverer by Jan Kjaerstad (Part V of V)"},"content":{"rendered":"

The Frankfurt Book Fair is going all week, so rather than vanish for a few days, all this week we’re serializing the opening of Jan Kjaerstad’s _The Discoverer<\/em>, translated from the Norwegian by Barbara Haveland. This is the follow-up to The Conqueror<\/em> (although each book in the Wergeland Trilogy can be read independently of the others) and takes place shortly after TV-producer and Norwegian icon Jonas Wergeland has released from prison for the murder of his wife. [Click here for Part I<\/a> and here for Part II<\/a> and here for Part III<\/span><\/a> and here for Part IV.<\/a>]<\/p>\n

You can purchase the book from our site, either by itself<\/a> as part of a subscription to Open Letter<\/a> or as one of the titles in our special 2 books for $22 offer.<\/a> It’s worth noting that as part of this special offer, you’re automatically entered into a drawing to win a free year’s subscription. So, without any further ado . . . _<\/p>\n

They were shown round the rest of the factory, saw the storage room and the cabinetmaker\u2019s workshop in the basement where the great machines were housed and the fa\u00e7ades, wind chests and wooden pipes were made. \u201cSee this, Jonas, cherry wood. And over there: ebony! This is a far cry from whittling willow flutes, eh?\u201d They proceeded to the first floor, to the pipe store and the tuning room where the pipes were given their first rough tuning. His father\u2019s face lit up, he picked up pipes and blew into them. Each pipe had a life of its own, was an instrument in itself. Haakon Hansen was looking more and more happy, chatting incessantly to their companion about matters which went way over Jonas\u2019s head, about the Principal and the Octave Bass, about the importance of the choir organ to the tonal quality of the instrument. Jonas watched as a man made a notch in a pipe with a knife and rolled back a tongue of metal with a pair of pliers, much as Jonas would have opened the lid on a sardine tin. He wished his mother could have been there, she would have loved this, working as she did at the Grorud Ironmonger\u2019s. Jonas always got a great kick out of places which combined ironmongery with music, uniting his mother\u2019s and his father\u2019s work\u2014in such situations he could well understand why two such different individuals came to be married to one another. He heard his father and the strange man talking about the German factory which had supplied the stops. Jonas loved all the secrecy surrounding the metal alloys for
\nthe pipes, it smacked of alchemy. I\u2019m not in an organ factory, he thought. I\u2019m on a visit to a wizard\u2019s cave.<\/p>\n

Then, to crown it all\u2014a well-orchestrated surprise\u2014their guide flung open the doors of the assembly hall, a room the size of a medium-sized church, and there, standing against one wall, all ready for playing, was Grorud\u2019s new organ. A shimmering palace. Jonas\u2019s father bounded over to the organ, looked back at the others, his arms outstretched to the gleaming fa\u00e7ade, like a child unable to believe its eyes, while people stood there nodding, as if to say: \u201cYes, it\u2019s yours, you can have it.\u201d Haakon Hansen switched it on, set the stops and began to play. He played the only fitting piece of music: Johann Sebastian Bach, Prelude in E-flat major, pro organo pleno, he played so resoundingly that he all but raised the roof. And as his father played, Jonas tried to grasp how everything he had seen, all those separate elements in so many different rooms\u2014there were thousands of pipes alone\u2014could conjoin to form such a palatial instrument, one capable of producing such glorious, polyphonous music\u2014a whole that was so much more than the individual parts which he had seen. A sound which caused the body to swell. It was true, it was alchemy, gold was made here, but it was gold in the form of music.<\/p>\n

Jonas knew, of course, that with this visit his father was trying to tell him something important, and on the way home Haakon did indeed say something, although it was no more than a single sentence: \u201cRemember, that was just an organ.\u201d That was all. His father did not say another word on the drive home. Haakon Hansen never said too much. But in his mind Jonas could hear the rest: \u201cSo just imagine how everything in life fits together.\u201d <\/p>\n

And that was why you had to save lives. In his mind\u2019s eye, Jonas sometimes pictured people as being like walking organs. The first time he saw a dying child on television he realized what a tragedy this was, because what he beheld was a mighty organ into which no air, no spirit, no life was being breathed, one which, in all its senseless and ghastly complexity, was breaking down into its individual parts.<\/p>\n

Jonas Wergeland sat in Grorud Church, playing an organ which he had, so to speak, seen unveiled; he was playing Bach, the fugue which accompanied the prelude in E-flat major, marveling at an invention which enabled him, with just ten fingers and two feet, to produce music so splendid, so powerful, that it penetrated right down into the foundations of the building. Perhaps, when his life was over, this is what would be cited as his greatest achievement: that he had, at one felicitous moment, succeeded in playing Bach\u2019s prelude and fugue in E-flat major. He felt the tears falling, realized that he was crying, as if the music had also penetrated to his foundations. He did not know whether he was weeping out of grief or at the thought of an experience shared with his father or because of the beauty of the music, a beauty which reminded him of having his head inside a crystal chandelier sparkling with light and shot with rainbows.<\/p>\n

The fugue came to an end. Jonas Wergeland altered the stops, struck up the hymn \u201cLead, Kindly Light,\u201d and how he played: played joyfully, played wistfully, played as if he were a lifesaver, someone capable of breathing life into people. And from the church beneath him the song swelled up, the singing truly hit the roof, with a force unlike anything Jonas had ever heard before. Because he was not alone. The church was full. He had got there in good time, but the church was already packed when he arrived. That was why Grorud had seemed so deserted. Everyone was here. Well over a thousand people. It had come as a surprise to him. Who was his father? Were all of these people really here to honor Haakon Hansen, to pay him their respects?<\/p>\n

Jonas played. Down below, in front of the altar rail, lay his father. Not as if dead, but dead. Haakon Hansen had died \u201con the job,\u201d as they say. Jonas was playing at his own father\u2019s funeral, a funeral which some would describe as scandalous, others as baffling, while his mother, who had more right than anyone to speak on the subject, simply said: \u201cNo one would understand anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jonas played \u201cLead, Kindly Light,\u201d Purday\u2019s lovely melody, he had the urge to improvise, introduce some provocative chords, produce innovative modulations while moaning and humming along like Glenn Gould or Keith Jarrett. His father would have liked that. Jonas was always nervous when playing for his father. Now too. Even though Haakon Hansen could not hear him. He lay in his coffin, dead. Yet Jonas played as if he could bring his father to life, was amazed to find that he still possessed it: the longing to be a lifesaver. <\/p>\n

He had trained so hard, so resolutely. Particularly during the year when he turned ten it seemed to him that he was more in the water than out of it. At Frogner Baths, at Torggata Baths, out at Hvaler, this was his main pursuit: practicing staying underwater for as long as possible. Building up his lung capacity. He could swim underwater for longer than any of his chums, had no difficulty in swimming across Badedammen or the length of the Torggata pool. At Frogner Baths, where you could look into the upstairs pool through round windows, he scared the wits out of spectators by diving down and goggling out at them as inquisitively as they were peering in, rather like a seal in an aquarium\u2014except that he stayed there for so long, on the other side of the window, that people began to shout and bang on the glass in alarm. These daredevil dives did not escape the attention of the lifeguards either: \u201cAny more of your tomfoolery and you\u2019re out on your ear,\u201d they bawled at him from their high stools.<\/p>\n

But it wasn\u2019t tomfoolery, it was conscientious training. Jonas Wergeland was preparing for his great undertaking: that of saving a life.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Frankfurt Book Fair is going all week, so rather than vanish for a few days, all this week we’re serializing the opening of Jan Kjaerstad’s _The Discoverer, translated from the Norwegian by Barbara Haveland. This is the follow-up to The Conqueror (although each book in the Wergeland Trilogy can be read independently of the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":292,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[67486],"tags":[17936,736,17946,28166,17926],"class_list":["post-274356","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articles","tag-barbara-haveland","tag-jan-kjaerstad","tag-norwegian-literature","tag-open-letter-books","tag-the-discoverer"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/274356","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/292"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=274356"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/274356\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":350746,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/274356\/revisions\/350746"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=274356"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=274356"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=274356"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}