Lögberg-Heimskringla - 19.09.1963, Blaðsíða 2
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LÖGBERG-HEIMSKRINGLA, FIMMTUDAGINN 19. SEPTEMBER 1963
AHUGAMAL
LVCNNA
Mrs. Valdheiður Thorlakson:
Þakklæti
lausum skjallyrðum um dóttur
hennar.
Slíkur er hugsunarháttur
sumra.
Já. En við höfum svo mikið
að þakka, ailar góðar gjafir guðs
og manna, er að okkur eru réttar
einnig sorgir, vanheilsu, erfið-
leika af ýmsu tæi.
“Því í saknaðs rökkva sína
menn sækja dýrstann þrótt”
Dýr málmur skírist í eldi,
svo gera lyndiseinkunnir manna.
í eldi reynslunnar kemur í ljós
hvort hann er gerður úr gulli
eða grjóti.
Því er svo gott að eiga sam-
leið íneð þakklátu fólki. Er eg
virði fyrir mér sumar eldri ís-
lenzku konurnar okkar, með sín-
ar knýttu vinnulúnu hendur og
bognu bök, er þrátt fyrir æfi-
lartgt strit og erfiði, eru þó með
hugann fullann þakklætis yfir
þrekinu er þær hafa enn yfir að
ráða. Þakklátar fyrir að geta
enn veitt öðrum hjálp, unnið
góðum málefnum til eflingar,
greitt götu náungans með sínum
litlu efnum.
Slíku fólki er gott að eiga
samleið með.
ARNI S. MYRDAL:
To The Harbour Committee
A Bird's Eye View of
lcelandic Literature
By SIGURÐUR A. MAGNÚSSON
Liierary Ediior of "Lesbók," weekly supplement of
"Morgunblaðið"
Eg sit ein í útistól að húsa-
baki. Nýt kveldsvalans, er breið-
ir sig með friðandi vinsemd yfir
alt umhverfið, eftir ofsa heitann
sumardag.
Ekkert spillir rósemi kveldsins
nema fáein smábörn, er hlaupa
til og frá með ópum og ærslum:
aðrir sjást ekki á ferli, þar til ein
nábúakona kemur upp bakgöt-
una og gengur hratt, hún skimar
upp og ofan strætið, meðfram
hverju húsi, bak við hvern
runna. Eg veit hún leitar 15 ára
dóttur sinnar, sem fædd er ein
af þessum aumingjum, er hér
nefnast “retarded”.
Hún finnur hana hjá einum
nágrannanum því allir nábúarn-
if hafa gert sér að skyldu að sýna
þessum vesaling nærgætni og
umburðarlyndi.
Móðirin kemur og leiðir nú
dóttur sína, staldrar við og býð-
ur “gott kveld”.
Tekur svo að segja mér frá
syni sínum, er var tvíburi við
aumingjann. Hann hafði hlotið
heiðursskírteini fyrir háar ein-
kanir við skólauppsögnina
nokkru fyr.
Eg varð ekkert hissa, vissi
hann velgefinn og prúðann
dreng.
Svo bætir hún við: “Við höf-
um svo óumræðilega mikið að
vera þakklát fyrir”.
Eftir að hún var farin hljóm-
uðu þessi orð hennar áfram í
eyrum mér. "Höfum svo mikið
að vera þakklát fyrir”.
Eg fór að hugsa hve fólk væri
misjafnt. Einn er þakklátur fyr-
ir hvert gott atvik, er fellur hon-
um í skaut, þó ekki sé meir en
hlýtt bros eða þétt handtak. —
Aðrir sínkt og heilagt með fúk-
yrði, vonsku og vanþakklæti
bæði við guð og menn. Er eg
renni huga mínum yfir þá mörgu
menn og konur er eg hefi kynst,
staðnæmist hann hjá tveim kon-
um er eg hafði töluverð kynni
af.
Það stóð líkt á hjá báðum
voru heldur efnalitlar mæður
með barnahóp er þær þráðu að
veita æðri mentun. Báðar áttu
skyldmenni í borginni er tókti
börn þeirra að sér á skólaárum
þeirra. önnur sagðist verða
fólki sínu þakklát til dauðadags
fyrir aðstoðina. Hin kvaðst hata
sitt fólk fyrir þeirra hjálp, og er
eg í fáfræði minni spurði “þyj?”
leit hún á mig heiftþrungnum
augum og svaraði, "Af því það
hafði betri efnalega aðstöðu en
eg, svo eg neyddist til að þiggja
hjálp þeirra, en fyrir börn mín
líð eg alla niðurlægingu.”
Seinna sá eg þessa sömii konu
tárfella af hrifning yfir manni
er sló fram nokkrum meiningar-
Mr. Myrdal is well-known
to the readers of L-H. for the
many excellent articles he has
written or translated for the
paper. They may also remem-
ber The Genius of Pixilated
Point, by Eric Lindsay, re-
printed in L-H May 24 and 31,
1962.
Mr. Myrdal is highly es-
teemed by his neighbors and
all the residents of Point
Roberís for his learning, wis-
dom and kindliness. His ad-
vice is often sought regarding
matters of importance to the
community. — He wrote the
following letter when some of
the leading citizens asked him
to give his opinion about a
suitable site for harbour con-
struction on Point Roberts.
He and his brother, Sigurjon,
were the only ones still living,
who remembered clearly the
lagoon and the surrounding
area.—I.J.
If Point Roberts had a good
and well equipped harbor, it
would grow to be a notable
tourist resort.
I came to Point Roberts in
June, 1894; have therefore
been a resident of the Point
66 years. Shortly after my
arrival, I started to work for
the Alaska Packers’ Associa-
tion, a large canning concem.
I was with the company, in
various capacities, 38 years.
On some occasions, during
the seasonal operations in
stormy seas, we were obliged
to tow our piledriver all the
way to Blaine for shelter, be-
cause of the lack of harbor
here. I thought then, as I
think now, that the lack of a
good harbor was a great draw-
back to the various fishing
activities in and around the
Point, as well as an ever pre-
sent inconvenience to those of
its inhabitants who own a
boat.
When I came to the Point,
and for a number of years
after, the so-called “Tule” was
a large lagoon. At high tide
the sea would surge in right
up to the timber line, forming
a sizable lake, its shore
strewn with huge logs, long
trap piling and other drifted
matter. This body of water at
high tide covered approxi-
mately an area of 160 acres.
The opening, leading into and
out of this lakelike body of
water, was near the south-
western extremity of the
lagoon. Except when the out-
let was blocked up with drift-
wood, one could not cross it
on foot even at low tide. The
outflow of water from the
lagoon often cut a channel 15
feet deep and, at times, 20 to
30 feet wide, and would reach
out far beyond the low water
mark. Will'iam Taylor and
Henry McKeen sailed a 40-
foot sloop into the lagoon at
high tide, without touching
Arni S. Myrdal
the sides or bottom of the out-
let, and in the lagoon itself,
immediately inside the en-
trances, t h e r e was also
sufficient depth for the craft
to sail a very limited distance
to and fro.
Some forty-five years ago,
following an unusually dam-
aging inundation of the tule,
the George and Barker Can-
ning Company filled up the
lagoon’s inlet with tons of old
discarded tarred fish trap
webbing, and Austin Largaud
placed a floodgate at its
southeastern end; thus con-
verting the tule into a sizable
plot of arable land. But some
years later, two more extra-
ordinary innundations oc-
cured. Then the county con-
structed a sufficiently high
embankment a short distance
from the beach and parallel
with it, to keep extra high
tides from flooding the tule;
The Icelanders are intense-
ly proud of their literary
heritage, and understandably
so, since it has been the main-
stay of their national and cult-
ural life from the dawn of
their history. Without litera-
ture neither their language,
their national culture, nor
their strange and in many
ways unique history would
have been preserved.
Every culture has certain
ideals, by which it disting-
uishes itself from other cul-
tures, ideals which give sub-
stance and significance to
human aspirations, and lend a
certain pattern to the way of
life and the thinking of a
people. The ideals of Icelandic
culture, most clearly express-
ed in the Medieval Sagas and
Ekidic poetry, were the war-
rior and the wise man. It is
noteworthy that already in
the heroic age of the Sagas
the wise man was held in
greater esteem than the war-
rior, and his stature in the
following centuries was to in-
crease after warfare and war-
like conquests became a thing
of the past. The man of learn-
ing and artistic ability was
and still is the supreme ideal
of Icelandic culture.
THE SAGAS AND THE
LANGUAGE
The uniqueness of the liter-
ary tradition of Iceland mani-
fests itself in at least two dis-
tinct ways:
1. The Sagas of Medieval
Iceland (13th Century) were
the first secular prose novels
of Europe, written in verna-
cular, dealing with the every-
day life of the people in a
manner at once quite realistic
and supremely artistic. They
are in fact only comparable
with the European novel of
the last 100 years or so.
2. The language used by
present-day authors and the
Icelanders in general is the
language of the 13th Century
Sagas with very slight modi-
fications. No other nation in
Europe has to that extent pre-
served its original language.
Even the language of Shakes-
since this was done, no inun-
dations have occurred. This
embankment or dike is known
as the Dike Road, which is
now a link between Marine
Drive and road No. 539.
I know of no other place in
or around Point Röberts that
is as suitable for making and
maintaining a good service-
able harbor. The old lagoon
bed would supply a very de-
pendable foundation.
October, 1960.
ARNI S. MYRDAL
peare in England and that of
Luther in Germany sound
archaic to modern English and
German readers. The strange
fact of a largely unaltered
language through six or seven
hundred years is partly due to
the isolation of the country,
which was almost complete
for many centuries, but the
main reason was the continu-
ous absorption of the old liter-
ature by the nation as a whole.
Modern Icelandic literature
has consequently very deep
roots in old traditions, espec-
ially the prose branch. The
Sagas are still the unrivalled
models of most Icelandic nov-
elists, and epic style is the
outstanding characteristic of
the modem novel. Foreign in-
fluences have been remark-
ably meagre so far.
This has been a curse as weU
as a blessing, a curse in the
sense that Icelandic novels
tend to be rather uniform in
choice of subject, approach
and style, a blessing in the
sense that the emphasis has
been on the salient traits of
the best Sagas, namely clear
characterization and “story.”
IN MANY WAYS
UNSURPASSED
The most accomplished ex-
ample of the rejuvenation of
the old epic style is presented
by the novels of Halldor Lax-
ness, the 1955 Nobel Prize
Winner. His mastery of lang-
uage and his creative imagin-
ation are in many ways unsut-
passed, but he has chosen to
remain faithful to the old
traditions, with all kinds of
personal deviations, in all of
his major novels except the
first, “The Great Weaver of
Kashmir”, which was an ex-
citing surrealistic exploration
of the European scene after
World War I, and a stylistic
tour de force. Some people, in-
cluding the present writer,
deplore that Laxness did not
make any further sojoums in-
to the less familiar realms of
modern literature.
The short story is a much
neglected form in Iceland and