“We will not find the path that leads to our own end,” wrote Sigrid Undset (1882–1949), “except by paying the price of patient and costly effort.” These brief words sketch, in freehand strokes, the spiritual portrait of this Norwegian writer, winner of the 1928 Nobel Prize in Literature, whose life is recreated by María Dolores Bosch in her biography, I Am Sigrid Undset (Círculo Rojo, 2026); a short text, an excellent introduction to the life and work of Undset, artist, peasant, and scholar, as described by her friend Willa Cather.

The first thing I read by Undset was *Saint Catherine of Siena* , a biography of this Doctor of the Church. I didn’t get much out of that reading during my university years. Only in recent years have I become aware of the great spiritual depth of this saint. It has been a godsend to come across this biography of Undset written by Professor Bosch, whom I met at the University of Piura (Peru), where she taught a course in Contemporary History.

Sigrid Undset did not have an easy path to fulfilling her life’s purpose. She quickly became disillusioned with the Protestant liberalism in which she was raised, drifting towards a profound agnosticism. However, the closeness and affection of her father, an archaeologist and specialist in prehistory, shaped her character, instilling in her a deep connection to reality and facts. The sagas and tales of Scandinavian folklore she heard at home, as well as walks through forests and gardens, taught her to view nature with breadth and depth. She began working as a secretary at a very young age to help support her family. Her father had passed away. She was a gifted writer and began publishing. Years of hard work, joys, and sorrows followed. Her marriage did not last. She was left with three children and took on the care of her late husband’s children.

Religious yearning haunted her life. “At that time,” she wrote, “my love for my children, my passion for literature, and my commitment to redeeming women from the slavery of ignorance propelled me forward… God, you know all the detours my wavering spirit attempted. And now I come to you to ask you to open yourself to me; to reveal yourself to me” (p. 69). She found her path in Catholicism and was baptized in 1924. It was a conversion more rational than emotional. By then, she was already a renowned writer. She drew inspiration from medieval Scandinavian culture for her novels. She received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1928. She discovered that the Catholic Church was not a relic of the past, but a living, mystical Body. French religious thought becomes his usual reading: “Paul Claudel, Charles Peguy and, above all, Jacques Maritain, with whom he coincided years later during his stay in the United States (1940-1945), where he went into exile in the face of Hitler’s advance in Europe (cf. p. 64).

Her eldest son dies in combat during the invasion of Norway; her disabled daughter also dies. She is aware of the Christian inculturation among Norwegians. “If there is anything we Norwegians of today can be proud of,” our author notes, “it is not that our ancestors were Vikings, but that those same ancestors so quickly shed the Viking mentality. That is what I tried to convey in Thorgils … the true image of a man converted to Christianity at a time when Christianity and paganism were in conflict (pp. 109-110).”

Christina, Daughter of Lavrans is considered his masterpiece. Equally remarkable are The White Orchid and The Burning Bush , which tell the story of Paul Selmer, a life of patient and striving in the search for human purpose and the fulfillment of the Covenant promise: God with us until the end of time (Guadalupe Arbona).