Reykjavík Grapevine - 14.07.2006, Page 3

Hi Grapevine
Just wanted to send you few lines to
tell you how much me and my hus-
band love your magazine! We moved
to Iceland almost two years ago from
Cambridge, UK. We live in Keflavik
but my husband works in Garðabær
at Marel. I am currently working at
home as an artist and freelance art
administrator, with our lovely two
years old boy and expecting another
one in August. We would both like
to support you in your immigrant
campaign as we are unhappy with
the immigrant situation in Iceland
as well as the refugee issues here in
Keflavik.
Keep up the good work.
Gunnhildur, Douglas and Isak Þór
Place
Thank you, but the new political
party based on immigrant issues is not a
Grapevine party. The Grapevine is not
associated with any party, and the vari-
ous employees here have a wide range of
political beliefs. In addition, because our
journalist, Paul Nikolov, is a chairper-
son of the New Icelander Party, he will
no longer be allowed to write opinion
pieces for our paper, as we have a hard
and fast policy against self-promotion.
We will still cover immigrant issues, but
Mr. Nikolov’s party will be treated as
all political parties are treated.
Dear Editor,
In his book The Ally Who came
in from the Cold, Research Profes-
sor at the University of Iceland, Dr.
Þór Whitehead, uses the first name
of Icelandic characters, since this is
customary in Iceland. In Iceland we
use first names for Icelandic char-
acters even when speaking a foreign
language. This is a fact. Thus, Mr.
Dagur B. Eggertsson should be
referred to as Mr. Dagur but not as
Mr. Eggertsson, since the latter is
only his paternal name.

Kind Regards, Kjartan Emil S.
Kjartan,
This is a point we debate frequently in
the office. First off, for all readers and
newcomers to Iceland, there are not
many last names in Iceland, most use
patronymics. In conversation, it is never
appropriate to refer to someone as Mr.
Eggertsson, for example. However, the
Grapevine has to make some sacrifices
in printing in English. On names,
we prefer consistency to local custom, a
policy established under the previous,
Icelandic, editor of the paper. We refer to
every subject by his or her last name or
patronymic.
If this is insulting, it is not inten-
tional. A similar rule is followed in the
local papers towards foreigners - I myself
have read various authors refer to me as
Bart, an extremely casual gesture in the
customs of my native country, and most
other countries in the western hemi-
sphere. However, as all local papers are
essentially consistent in only using first
names, we can at least be consistent with
our policies.
Finally, we are forced to use last
names because we regularly resell our
articles to foreign publications who also
require consistency. Mr. Whitehead,
an excellent historian and writer, was
writing for a book, not a newspaper, so
his writing only had to obey the rules of
his book.
Hopefully, this answers your ques-
tion. We are not trying to be insulting,
and we are fully aware of local custom,
and we grimace at calling Dagur Mr.
Eggertsson a good deal more than our
readers do reading it.
Dear Editor,
Although it’s a bit unusual, I feel I
have to respond to the review of our
play How Do You Like Iceland, in
your last issue. It’s not the diminu-
tive writer’s opinion that bothers
me; he’s perfectly entitled to it. But
if he’s striving to be a legitimate
critic, he’d better learn a thing or two
about theatre craft and performance
etiquette.
For example, he referred to the
actress’s performance as “wooden.”
Anyone familiar with acting styles
could tell you her work was noth-
ing close to wooden. It was, instead,
leaden, a subtle quality she, with the
help of several leading metallurgists,
two silversmiths, and a club-footed
alchemist, worked quite hard to
achieve. To call it wooden is to miss
the point entirely and short-change
her talent. (This isn’t to say, however,
that she’s incapable of “wooden”
work. Theatre-goers may remember
fondly her noteworthy portrayals
several years ago in O, Yosemite! and
“From Tiny Acorns Grow.” The New
York Times called her Douglas fir
“breathtaking!” and her aspen grove
“heartrending”)
The petite wordsmith also
claimed that we choked on scenes
where we were called upon to display
our own emotions. How can he make
such an assumption? I’ve worked
my ass off over the years, in acting
classes and on psychologists’ couches,
to get rid of any emotion. I am
emotionless. In fact, thoughtless as
well; a cypher. So for this homuncu-
lus to wipe out years of hard work by
ascribing emotion to me is frankly
offensive.
On an up-note, however, I was
rather impressed to witness the birth
of a ground-breaking new style in
theatre criticism: the critic as heckler.
Several times during the show, the
vertically-challenged penman in-
serted himself into the proceedings,
talking or waving an outstretched
hand. We finally brought him onto
the stage, in an attempt to make a
sort of peace, but he used that op-
portunity to try and upstage us as
well. The final insult occurred when
forty minutes into an hour show he
walked across the playing area on
his way to the bathroom. And then
returned the same way! (I shouldn’t
be too harsh with the slight essayist,
though, since I well remember the
effects of my first beer).
It’s a shame the tiny reporter
couldn’t have looked past his own
bid for attention and simply seen the
show for what it is: a light, funny
little entertainment for foreigners.
But after reading this review, perhaps
they’ll just skip the show. Then they
can wander into a local bar, plop
down on a stool next to Mr. Eldon,
and get a first-hand view of the stere-
otypical Icelander he refers to.

With emotionless, thoughtless, kind-
est regards,

Darren Foreman
By funny, do you mean like this letter
funny, or ha ha funny? Because that
may be the difficulty here. Still, when
our reviewers go out on assignment
in the future, we’ ll ask them to 1) not
be small, and 2) not body-check key
performers.
Dear Editor,
It was interesting to read Sindri
Eldon’s article on the Adrenalin Park
in 09 issue 2006.
I don’t know why Sindri showed
up at Nesjavellir, but he was welcome
to participate. He seems to have
totally missed the fact that we don’t
run programs for individuals, — we
only operate group programs. The
whole thing is focused on the com-
bined effort of the group as a whole,
and all our marketing is aimed on
groups with 6 people as minimum for
this particular program.
An article written by someone
who is so out of touch with the envi-
ronment that he shows up in indoor
clothing on a windy and rainy day,
does not finish the program (because
he is to cold and miserable), all his
dimensions of structures are utterly
wrong and he claims the price to be
6,900 ISK instead of 4,900.
I don’t consider this responsi-
ble journalism. It’s similar to get
someone to write book reviews by
reading half a book in an uncomfort-
able, leaking house, without proper
heating. In that case it would hardly
be a surprise that the unfortunate
journalist was not even capable of
merely counting the pages. An edu-
cated opinion is even further out….
This article is completely out
of tune with the feedback we have
gained from groups participating
in our programs. I suggest that you
offer your staff a tour to Adrenalin
Park — free of charge. Participat-
ing as a group is the only way to get
a comprehensive understanding of
what it is. You simply give me a call
or send an e-mail and we arrange
time for you.
ps
I noticed that Alafoss, Vikurprjon,
IceWear, Cintamani and 66°North
all advertise their outdoor clothing
in you paper. Maybe it’s a good thing
Sindri is not influenced by advertis-
ers. Still a shame he misses the joy of
the Icelandic outdoors.
Kveðja,
Karl Ingólfsson
www.adrenalin.is
www.ute.is
567 8978 / 894 9595
karl@ultimathule.is
Having reviewed books for a living,
I can say that few reviewers don’t live
in cold drafty houses - and by houses I
mean studio apartments in “almost gen-
trified” neighbourhoods with cockroaches
and suspicious neighbours. In the age of
Dan Brown, James Frey and J K Rowl-
ing, the only way to preserve sanity is
to read no more than five paragraphs
of any book popular enough to jus-
tify a review. But you are not writing
about literature. You’re writing about
adventures. Correct cost, 4,900 ISK.
Correct number of attendees, groups.
The thing is, our reporter came along
because it looked fun. In his opinion, it
wasn’t. I picked up a Dan Brown book
once because it was shiny. After reading
a paragraph, I threw up and killed four
puppies. We can assess some things as
not the experience we hoped for without
fully traumatising ourselves. Given the
look of horror on our reporter’s face when
I said we could all go again, free, I think
he genuinely didn’t enjoy the experience.
As for clothing, we ask the staff to attend
them as a tourist would, in the clothing
they would arrive in, or bring to Iceland
in a carry-on. 66° North and Cinta-
mani make great clothes, but they’re
local. Many tourists have to experience
the weather before they realise how
essential a properly made pullover can
be. Hint to advertisers, as you may have
read earlier, the reporter in question is
a size Small, and he could probably use
some decent outdoor wear. We don’t pay
particularly well.
SOUR GRAPES
Complaints, criticism, suggestions, praise, money, anything at all: Contact letters@grapevine.is or send
your mail to: The Reykjavík Grapevine, Faxagata 2, Faxaskála við Faxaport, 101 Reykjavík.
EDITORIALS
Bart Cameron,
Editor
As we were scanning the listings
and PR statements on the atrocious
movies being imported to this fair
isle from America—the local cinema
chain somehow imports only the
most embarrassing of American
titles—I came across one dumb ass
plot synopsis that hit a nerve.
I wish I could be deep here and
say the notion of teaching urban
kids to dance made me realise that
I should sell my possessions, (or
possession, a computer), and join the
Antonio Banderas effort to teach
starving children the Tango. But no,
I felt a connection with the plot line
for The Lake House, the new Keanu
Reeves vehicle. In that movie, Keanu
has correspondence with someone
under similar conditions, only two
years ahead. Whoa.
Having left Iceland for a month’s
vacation, my return has left me
in a state of Keanu-like bewilder-
ment. When you factor in general
housekeeping, clean up, and business
arrangements, I was out of the loop
in Iceland for six weeks. In that time,
in six weeks, Reykjavík got a new
mayor, Iceland got a new prime min-
ister. The issue that went to print as
I left focused on the ruling coalition
telling protestors that they could tear
down their dam “in 40 years, when
you get into office.” An extremely
unpopular party managed to get
into city government by parking a
Hummer in handicapped spots and
pointing out that they didn’t know
how to golf.
Now, six weeks later, that party
is… dare I say it, humble. Their
prime minister stepped down. They
are changing their platform.
Six weeks ago, the Grapevine
offices were quite different as well.
We knew that we were losing one
of our long-term journalists, Paul
Nikolov. We knew we were moving
our offices. We had a long, difficult
summer to get through, and we had
very few foreign writers, and we
knew we had burned ourselves out
putting together a guide book to
Reykjavík and scheduling a concert
series and coordinating our plans for
rock festival coverage over the sum-
mer, and we knew we all needed to
nap.
On returning, I found that Paul
Nikolov used his retirement from
the Grapevine well, and that he
had started a political party. Proud
as I was, I also got a few doses of
humility handed to me when a senior
writer at a major local newspaper,
Blaðið, declared Paul the editor of
the Grapevine, and the author of the
book I had taken months to write.
In fact, my first days back in Iceland
were full of awkward phone conver-
sations, emails, and confrontations,
when people insisted that my name
must be Paul Nikolov, and they had
seen me on TV discussing my new
political party. It would be one thing
if Paul resembled me in the slightest.
He doesn’t. Our only similar physical
characteristic is that we both have all
of our limbs, and we are both white.
Still, in that first week when
people thought I was Paul, and
that I had started a political party,
I couldn’t believe the questions I
fielded. A little more than two years
ago, when Paul and I started working
at the Grapevine together, Iceland
was having an identity crisis, and
we at the Grapevine accidentally
tapped the well of discontent. We
both wrote in an issue in which our
friend, a black model who had moved
to Iceland with her husband from
Kenya, was put on the cover of the
paper in the local national costume.
At that time, there was a humiliat-
ing uproar. The younger Icelanders
backed us up, conservatives grum-
bled, the Bishop of Iceland, to his
credit, defended us, and a few people
with mobile phones sent out death
threats.
In the years since, I hadn’t
expected change, and so I hadn’t seen
it. When I took over as editor, web
sites filled with chatter about me
being an American, and therefore
partial to Zionist or some other
nonsense conspiracies. Conserva-
tives wrote articles citing awkward
translations by the Americans and
used small errors to discount larger
arguments. The media, which I
tended to dismiss out of hand, cov-
ered the Grapevine only in the gossip
sections, even though they routinely
borrowed our feature ideas and re-
search—sometimes being so bold as
to call for specifics—without ever
citing us. I had made up my mind
that some things wouldn’t change.
And then, while on vacation,
Paul started a political party. Hon-
estly, had I known that was coming,
I wouldn’t have come back. My false
assumptions about the local culture
being what they were, I expected, at
the very least, some disturbing emails
and SMS messages. Instead, the level
of the dialogue taking place over
Paul’s political party, has been even-
handed, in fact, almost congratula-
tory. I realize that the media outlets
here are motivated to change. The
people in the streets who insist my
name is Paul are polite and engaging.
Not a word of spite has come my way,
or, really, his way through me.
In any case, from what I’ve seen
since my return, progress has come
to Reykjavík, and our own former
journalist has had the courage to
test this progress, and the good
fortune to find out it is genuine. In
an interview I held with him for this,
his last issue, he mentioned that he
hoped to make Iceland a model for
European nations on immigration
issues. As much as the policies of
the active government suggest this
is not a possibility, the reception I’ve
seen since Paul’s courageous decision
suggest that the people of Reykjavík,
at least, are ready to lead. I feel as
though, having left for six weeks, I
have returned to an Iceland six years
in the future. Whoa.
Deep Political Thoughts. Keanu Reeves Deep.
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