illiam Blake saw a world in a grain of sand, but it took Karl Ove Knausgård to uncover for us the vast galaxies of meaning in cornflakes and pickled herring. Behind the maddeningly meticulous transcription of everyday phenomena in his improbably popular 3,600-page novel series My Struggle lies, to my mind, a latent faith – the faith of a mystic – that everything, however seemingly mundane, has a secret waiting to be unveiled.
