Árdís - 01.01.1954, Page 20

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ÁRDÍS
Outline of My Life
My father, Svb. Sveinbjornsson, was an Icelander, a composer
and teacher of music and my mother, Eleanor (née Christie) is
Scottish. Both of my grandfathers practised law, my paternal
grandfather being at one time the Chief Justice of Iceland and my
mother’s father, an M.A. of Aberdeen University, being a solicitor
in Banff in the north of Scotland.
I was born on December 3, 1892, at No. 15 Dick Place, the
Grange, Edinburgh, Scotland. While I was still an infant my parents
moved to No. 46 on the same street and my earliest recollections are
circled round this solid stone house with its spacious rooms and
front windows which overlooked a fine view of Blackford Hill.
There my brother and I lived a happy and sheltered childhood with
our good and kind parents.
I have very far back memories of hearing my father playing
on the piano and singing in his deep bass voice; in our house
classical music was daily bread and was accepted as such, but was
nevertheless greatly appreciated. Many music-loving visitors came
to the house and often I remember falling asleep at night with the
sound of music in my ears.
During all my youth many Icelandic people came to visit us
and I have deep-rooted memories of the Icelandic language being
spoken between these visitors and my father. The sound of the
language is so familiar to me that it is a very great pleasure to
hear it spoken even though I am not able to understand what is
being said. I have early and happy recollections of my cousins
Gudmundur, Asta and Jon Sveinbjornsson, Christjana Trampe and
also Landshofdingja Magnus Stephensen’s daughters.
At six years of age I attended Strathearn College which was
situated not far from where we lived and I always took a great
interest in school work. About that time I commenced to write
little stories which, in the beginning, were quite matter-of-fact, the
first being called “The Bad Old Woman” and the second “The Good
Young Man”. These were followed by a tale called “The Magic
Potato” which was a fairy tale, and, at the age of seven, I wrote, in
an exercise book which I still have, a few fairy tales and short