Fruit Fantasies + Norwegian Sagas

Apple Persimmon Crisp + The Barrøy Chronicles

Read

The Barrøy Chronicles (The Unseen, Eyes of the Rigel, White Shadow and Just A Mother) by Roy Jacobsen, co-translated from the Norwegian by Don Bartlett and Don Shaw, pub. 2016, 2019, 2020 & 2022, respectively
Buy: Bookshop.org or your local bookstore

I remember the day I bought The Unseen, the first in a four-part series of novels about a family living on a remote island, Barrøy, amid frigid Norwegian waters. I discovered these translated gems — which have added such richness to my reading life over the last year — thanks to Point Reyes Books, one of the most special bookshops I know. PSA: Support your local bookstores! There’s no way I could’ve found these if I were browsing online.

As for the series: I’ve been dying to write about it for months but wanted to finish the latest (and, I believe, last) — which I did over the holiday — so I could review as a completist. Series are special. As a child I was obsessed with them, from Betsy-Tacy (I discovered these — published between 1940 and 1955 — on a library shelf when I was probably 8 and tore through them; clearly my obsession with old books runs deep!) to the Babysitters Club to Ramona Quimby. My adult self still longs to be swept into other worlds via books (see: The Cazalet Chronicles), but I’ve found good contemporary series more difficult to come by as a grown-up — hence my inclination for looking to the past. I want a combination of exquisite writing, compelling story and abundant scenery. I love getting to know multiple generations of a family, investing in their futures, anticipating the changes that come with age and time. I want drama but not cheese. I want relationships beginning and ending. And I love a tale that relies heavily on nature to do its spinning. The Barrøy Chronicles delivers all this and so much more.

The series starts at the beginning of the 20th century with The Unseen, where we meet Ingrid Barrøy, a feral girl who grows up on the eponymous island with her grandpa, parents and aunt. Jacobsen writes the Barrøys in an islander dialect, which takes a moment to twig to and is worth the bit of effort. I adore the language of these books; it helps draw you more fully into the world — in this case, of mostly uneducated, but incredibly intrepid, characters. Barrøy, and its people, are shielded from modernity both by proximity and choice. The elder Barrøys are largely uninterested in change, even if it means easier lives.

Island life is treacherous and wearing. The Barrøy women spend their days collecting eiderdown, gutting herring, darning and cooking. The men fish seasonally (this is where most of the family’s income comes from, in addition to selling eiderdown) and are gone for months at a time, leaving the women alone to tend to an island ruled by the cruelty of nature. When the men return, they build fences and barracks, take the faering to town to collect supplies and food, and provide company — if cold and unemotional — to the women. Jacobsen entrances with seasonal descriptions: I found myself looking excitedly toward spring, whose thawing and growing light signify that the Barrøys have survived yet another harsh, dark winter.

One of the reasons these books are so special is what goes unsaid. There is talk — of the sea, the chores, the seasons — but, beneath that, there’s Ingrid’s rich inner life, her emotions belying the stoicism of her kin. You go through the daily, and yearly, motions with the family and sense the tension and heat bubbling below the icy surface, but little is expressed.

I’m not going to walk you through the other three novels because then this newsletter itself will become a novel, but to summarize: Norway is occupied by Nazis and life on Barrøy becomes bleak (White Shadow); Ingrid embarks on an epic journey to find a lover / prisoner of war (this journey takes place in Eyes of the Rigel and is immeasurably captivating); children are born and life returns to Barrøy; modernity comes to the island in various shapes and forms (Just A Mother); boys become men; island dialect wanes. Throughout you have Ingrid, a woman who keeps emotions close to the vest, who’s utterly capable yet unbearably lonely, who works tirelessly to maintain her childhood home and sense of place in the world, to protect the island, and those who live on it, at all costs. The stories are bleak and beautiful and you will be richer for having read them. And please — if there are other series you love, please shout them out in the comments!

Eat

Another Friendsgiving-inspired treat for your holiday tables: a cozy crumble packed to the gills with apples and persimmons (just apples, or apples and pears, should work if you can’t find persimmons). This is an excellent reminder that fruit-forward desserts don’t need a lot of sugar to shine. Fruit is naturally sweet! Serve for dessert with ice cream or creme fraiche, then have it again for breakfast the next morning with tangy yogurt or a splash of cream.

A Very Good Fruit Crumble
Makes one 9x13 dish

Filling:
4 pounds apples and persimmons (apples peeled and cored; persimmons topped and tailed, seeds removed; both sliced into thin slices, about ¼” thick)
1½ tablespoon tapioca flour or starch (you can use corn starch or arrowroot, too)
Juice of 1 lemon
¾ cup apple juice (you can sub water or cider)
½ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon cardamom
¼ teaspoon Kosher salt

Topping:
1½ cup gluten-free oats
1½ cup almond meal
½ cup chopped pecans
½ cup coconut sugar
¼ teaspoon cardamom
½ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon Kosher salt
¾ cup coconut oil, ghee or butter, melted

Preheat your oven to 350F. Add all of the filling ingredients to a bowl and mix well, then tip into a 9”x13” baking dish. Make the topping by adding everything to a bowl and mixing well. Cover the fruit mixture with the crumble mixture and bake for an hour until the filling is bubbling and the top is caramelized. Serve with cream, creme fraiche or ice cream!