{"id":8534,"date":"2020-03-10T23:40:06","date_gmt":"2020-03-10T23:40:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/swedish\/?p=8534"},"modified":"2020-03-10T23:43:47","modified_gmt":"2020-03-10T23:43:47","slug":"swedish-blog-highlights-poet-karin-boye","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/swedish\/swedish-blog-highlights-poet-karin-boye\/","title":{"rendered":"Highlighting Swedish Poet Karin Boye"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Writer & Poet Karin Boye<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n

International Women\u2019s Day on March 8 always makes me think about revolutionary women. Writer Karin Boye is on the top of my list of Swedish trailblazers, recognized as one of the most influential contributors to modern Swedish literature. Known for pushing the boundaries, and raising confronting questions of self-discovery, she brought forth many undiscussed narratives and critiques of society in the 1920\u2019s and 30\u2019s. While I\u2019m not the biggest poetry connoisseuse, I do like to use it in my teaching to promote creative and poetic language from my students. Today, I\u2019ll cover a bit of Boye\u2019s background, and highlight one of Boye\u2019s most famous poems, \u201cJa visst g\u00f6r det ont \/ Of Course it Hurts.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

(Psssst, her biography is sort of a bummer. If you’re up for the drama, read on, if you’re more keen on some beautiful poetry, scroll on!)<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

K<\/span>arin Boye was born in G\u00f6teborg in 1900, and went to school in Uppsala from 1921-1926 where she studied Scandinavian Languages and Literature. Her first collection of poems, <\/span>Moln \/ Clouds<\/span><\/i>, was published in 1922 to critical acclaim. She was also involved in a far-left, anti-fascist publication group <\/span>Klart\u00e9<\/span><\/i>, latching onto modernist and surrealist narratives.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

She had a brief marriage to fellow <\/span>Klart\u00e9 <\/span><\/i>member Leif Bj\u00f6rk from 1929-1931, that turned out to be more of a friendship. After their divorce, she wrote the 1932 novel, <\/span>Kris \/ Crisis<\/span><\/i>, where she struggles to accept herself as a lesbian woman.\u00a0 She was together with Jewish-German Margot Hanel, whom she met in Berlin, from 1932-1941.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The History of Nordic Women\u2019s Literature<\/span><\/a> acknowledges her contributions to poetry but says <\/span>\u201cthe pinnacle of her writing, […] is <\/span>Kallocain<\/span><\/i>, 1940, which offers a terrifying vision of the future, of a world destroyed by war between superpowers and atomic weapons.\u201d\u00a0 This piece was inspired by her visits to the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Unfortunately, like many super-talented and sometimes troubled creative minds before her, she committed suicided in 1941. Tragically, her partner Margot also committed suicide shortly afterwards.<\/span><\/p>\n

Okay, phew! We’ve made through Karin’s really fascinating, yet tragic backstory. Redo f\u00f6r lite poesi?<\/em>\u00a0 From the 1935 collection F\u00f6r tr\u00e4dets skull \/ For the Tree\u2019s Sake,<\/i> is Boye’s \u201cJa visst g\u00f6r det ont,” followed by Jenny Nunn’s “Of Course it Hurts,” translation to English, enjoy!\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Ja visst g\u00f6r det ont<\/b><\/h2>\n

Ja visst g\u00f6r det ont n\u00e4r <\/span>knoppar brister<\/span>.
\n<\/span>Varf\u00f6r skulle annars <\/span>v\u00e5ren tveka<\/span>?
\n<\/span>Varf\u00f6r skulle all v\u00e5r heta l\u00e4ngtan
\n<\/span>bindas i det frusna bitterbleka?
\n<\/span>H\u00f6ljet var ju knoppen hela vintern.
\n<\/span>Vad \u00e4r det f\u00f6r nytt, som t\u00e4r och spr\u00e4nger?
\n<\/span>Ja visst g\u00f6r det ont n\u00e4r knoppar brister,
\n<\/span>ont f\u00f6r det som v\u00e4xer<\/span>
\noch det som st\u00e4nger.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ja nog \u00e4r det sv\u00e5rt n\u00e4r droppar faller.
\n<\/span>Sk\u00e4lvande av \u00e4ngslan tungt de h\u00e4nger,
\n<\/span>klamrar sig vid kvisten, sv\u00e4ller, glider \u2013
\n<\/span>tyngden drar dem ner\u00e5t, hur de kl\u00e4nger.
\n<\/span>Sv\u00e5rt att vara oviss, r\u00e4dd och delad,
\n<\/span>sv\u00e5rt att k\u00e4nna djupet dra och kalla,
\n<\/span>\u00e4nd\u00e5 sitta kvar och bara darra \u2013
\n<\/span>sv\u00e5rt att vilja stanna
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 och vilja falla.<\/span><\/p>\n

D\u00e5, n\u00e4r det \u00e4r v\u00e4rst och inget hj\u00e4lper,
\n<\/span>Brister som i jubel tr\u00e4dets knoppar.
\n<\/span>D\u00e5, n\u00e4r ingen r\u00e4dsla l\u00e4ngre h\u00e5ller,
\n<\/span>faller i ett glitter kvistens droppar
\n<\/span>gl\u00f6mmer att de <\/span>skr\u00e4mdes<\/span> av det nya
\n<\/span>gl\u00f6mmer att de \u00e4ngslades f\u00f6r f\u00e4rden \u2013
\n<\/span>k\u00e4nner en sekund sin st\u00f6rsta trygghet,
\n<\/span>vilar i den tillit
\nsom skapar v\u00e4rlden.\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n


\n<\/span>Of Course It Hurts<\/strong><\/h2>\n

Of course it hurts when buds burst.
\n<\/span>Otherwise why would spring hesitate?
\n<\/span>Why would all our fervent longing
\n<\/span>be bound in the frozen bitter haze?
\n<\/span>The bud was the casing all winter.
\n<\/span>What is this new thing, which consumes and bursts?
\n<\/span>Of course it hurts when buds burst,
\n<\/span>pain for that which grows
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 and for that which envelops.<\/span><\/p>\n

Of course it is hard when drops fall.
\n<\/span>Trembling with fear they hang heavy,
\n<\/span>clammer on the branch, swell and slide –
\n<\/span>the weight pulls them down, how they cling.
\n<\/span>Hard to be uncertain, afraid and divided,
\n<\/span>hard to feel the deep pulling and calling,
\n<\/span>yet sit there and just quiver –
\n<\/span>hard to want to stay
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0and to want to fall.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then, at the point of agony and when all is beyond help,
\nt<\/span>he tree’s buds burst as if in jubilation,
\nt<\/span>hen, when fear no longer exists,
\n<\/span>the branch’s drops tumble in a shimmer,
\n<\/span>forgetting that they were afraid of the new,
\n<\/span>forgetting that they were fearful of the journey –
\n<\/span>feeling for a second their greatest security,
\n<\/span>resting in the trust<\/span>
\nthat creates the world.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

This poem, its translation, and many other works, are available to read on karinboye.se.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\"\"

International Women\u2019s Day on March 8 always makes me think about revolutionary women. Writer Karin Boye is on the top of my list of Swedish trailblazers, recognized as one of the most influential contributors to modern Swedish literature. Known for pushing the boundaries, and raising confronting questions of self-discovery, she brought forth many undiscussed narratives…<\/p>\n

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