Months after finishing this book, I still don't know how to describe it, so I'll just describe my reaction. I absolutely adored every word of Laxness's writing, and couldn't tear myself away even though the events he describes are such a succession of awfulness that I often wanted to put it down. The book wormed its way into my head in a way that I've rarely experienced since I stopped studying literature formally, and several of the scenes are still vivid in my mind now.

I think this is one of the finest books I've ever read, but don't read it if you're feeling down, because it's also one of the bleakest.