Reykjavík Grapevine - 17.07.2009, Síða 10

The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 10 — 2009
Iceland only seems to
be large enough to
accommodate one, or at
best two, points of view at a
time. While our Scandinavian
cousins were busy inventing
model societies that stood somewhere
between the two extremes of American
Capitalism and Soviet Communism, and
achieved a wide consensus among their
populations in doing so, Iceland was
deeply divided between left and right.
Mid-century newspapers seem almost
comical to us now in their fervent Cold
War rhetoric, but how much has really
changed?
A wound that will never heal
In the Post-war era, you were either
opposed to or in agreement with the US
military presence, and the debate took
the form of sloganeering when at its best
and teargas at its worst. This rift has
never quite healed. In the past decade,
no neutral ground seems to have been
found between conservationists who
are often portrayed as being in principle
against modernity, and industrialists who
seem to want to dam every river, waterfall
or hot spring they can find. In political
discourse, you seem to have to be either
for or against nature, which is quite a
remarkable feat of oppositional thinking.
When faced with the issue of joining the
European Union, this problem becomes
apparent yet again. On the one hand you
have people who are portrayed, Cold War
style, as traitors who want to sell Iceland’s
independence to foreigners. On the other
hand, you have people who are portrayed
as wanting to sever all connections with
the outside world. About the actual pros
and cons of joining the EU, we hear very
little.
Tap water journalism
As usual, the media is at least partially to
blame. Icelandic news programmes and
papers are run on a shoestring budget by
all international standards. Investigative
journalism is both expensive and time
consuming. The cheapest option is what
has quite appropriately been called “tap
water journalism.” You get two people
with opposing views, and then you turn
them on and off like hot and cold water.
With no one in a position to present the
actual facts, political debate is quickly
reduced to the level of a football game
with no referee where everyone simply
cheers their side reduction ad absurdum.
Aristotle said that for every virtue there
are two vices, both located at opposite
ends of the spectrum. He would no doubt
say that those who see the EU as the
devil incarnate as well as those who see
it as the answer to all our prayers are
equally wrong. The answer, no doubt,
lies somewhere in the middle. Only by
examining things from there can we truly
see what is the right path. Tap water
actually works best when hot and cold
are mixed together. How much of each
should be the subject of political debate,
not either or. Even when, as with the EU,
one must eventually decide one way or
another.
VALUE:
500 Krónur
OBVERSE PRiNT:
Jón Sigurðsson was leader of the
Icelandic Independence movement in the
19th Century. He believed in freedom of
the individual, the need for the country to
be independent, respect for the cultural
and religious traditions, especially the
preservation of the Icelandic language
and no doubt, keeping its own currency.
REVERSE PRiNT:
Jón Sigurðsson at his writing desk, with
tapestry and other belongings.
TyPE OF PAPER:
Made of raw cotton.
COLOUR:
Red.
dATE iSSUEd:
1981.
SizE:
145 x 70 mm.
WATERMARk:
Portrait of Jón Sigurðsson.
BLiNd RECOGNiTiON FEATURE:
One vertical line is intaglio-printed on
the obverse.
VALUE:
1000 Krónur
OBVERSE PRiNT:
Lutheran Bishop Brynjólfur Sveinsson
who helped to build the church
Brynjólfskirkja in the village of Skálholt –
and has a beard shaped like a scrotum.
The written denomination is in the same
typeface inscription as the baptismal font
of Brynjólfskirkja.
Reverse Print: A cross-section and
portrait of Brynjólfskirkja. At the side
is an image of the Madonna gold ring
owned by Bishop Brynjólfur Sveinsson.
TyPE OF PAPER:
Made of raw cotton.
COLOUR:
Purple.
dATE iSSUEd:
1984.
SizE:
150 × 70 mm.
WATERMARk:
Portrait of Jón Sigurðsson.
BLiNd RECOGNiTiON:
Two vertical lines are intaglio-printed on
the obverse.
VALUE:
2000 Krónur
OBVERSE PRiNT:
Slap bang on the front is the mug
shot of Jóhannes Sveinsson Kjarval,
one of Iceland’s most famous artists.
Kjarval was once criticized due to
his unconventional blend of realistic
landscapes and mythical subjects, but
he was well respected enough in the end
to be featured on the note. Even though
it’s a note no one likes.
REVERSE PRiNT:
Jóhannes’s painting ‘Yearning for Flight’
and his drawing ‘Woman and Flowers’.
TyPE OF PAPER:
Made of raw cotton.
COLOUR:
Yellow, Green and a bit of Red.
dATE iSSUEd:
1995.
SizE:
150 × 70 mm.
WATERMARk:
Portrait of Jón Sigurðsson.
BLiNd RECOGNiTiON:
A triangle is intaglio-printed on the
obverse.
VALUE:
5000 Krónur
OBVERSE PRiNT:
Illustrated is Ragnheiður Jónsdóttir.
Ragnheiður was the daughter of the
priest Jón Arason and wife of two
consecutive Bishops – Gisli Þorláksson
and Einar Þorsteinnsson (not at the same
time, obviously). The lettering is copied
from the Laufáskirkja alter cloth at the
National Museum of Iceland.
REVERSE PRiNT:
The reverse depicts Ragnheiður
instructing two girls in the art of
embroidery.
TyPE OF PAPER:
Made of raw cotton.
COLOUR:
Blue, purple and green.
dATE iSSUEd:
1986.
SizE:
155 × 70 mm.
WATERMARk:
Portrait of Jón Sigurðsson.
BLiNd RECOGNiTiON:
Three vertical lines are intaglio-printed
on the obverse.
10
Business (ha ha ha) | Jonathan Baker Esq. Opinion | Valur Gunnarsson

Money, money, money is certainly funny,
or in Iceland’s world at least. The local
currency – known as the króna – has a
f luctuating exchange rate that tends to
differ on a weekly basis; up and down,
stronger and weaker, fuller and bleaker.
Mostly down, weaker and bleaker, as of
late. But you get the idea.
Since the króna plummeted at an
alarming rate seemingly overnight from
last October, times have been good for
tourists to visit, buy things, get drunk
or just to gloat about their stronger
currency– the British Pound, Yankee
Dollar, the Euro, whatever.
Apart from the recent downfall,
Iceland’s history of currency and
commerce is a full and rich tale of
progression and valour worthy of its own
saga.
The Birth of Trade
The evolution of Icelandic currency has
changed since ‘way back in the day’
when precious items such as silver,
homespun cloth and even cows were the
main circulation of currency between
the 9th and 14th centuries. In fact cows
became the most common value system
for importing/exporting livestock and
goods – prices were based on the cow
equivalent. Like a beer would cost an
udder, or something.
As times progressed so did the
trading and fish over overtook those
poor cows as the standard value
system – manly due to the avalanche
of foreign merchants stopping by at
Iceland’s numerous docks in the late
14th Century. The pricing equivalence
between the aforementioned methods
just became ridiculous. Take a look: one
cow equalled six ewes (sheep) which
equalled one hundred and twenty ells
of homespun, and which then equalled
two hundred and forty fish. With the
impending invention of shopping malls,
iPods and coffee houses, a new form of
currency and trade had to be established.
Welcome the Crown
The Danish Coinage Act of 1873
abolished all previous forms of currency
in favour for the decimal system and the
Króna was born. The first denominations
of notes – issued in 1885 by Landssjóður
Íslands – were of 5, 10 and 50 Krónur.
1922 saw the introduction of Iceland’s
first coin, the aurar, which commenced
in the values of 10 and 25 pieces. 100
aurar pieces made up to 1 króna, similar
to the modern equivalent of the pence
or cent. These were followed in 1925 by
denominations of 1 and 2 króna pieces
and in 1926 by 1, 2 and 5 aurar pieces.
Come the early 1960s, three banks
were in production of printed money
in paper forms, each contributing their
own denomination into the cocktail
of monopoly – Ríkissjóður Íslands
distributing one króna notes and
Landsbanki Íslands chucking in 25, 100,
500, 1000 and 5000 notes.
Like all great blockbuster movies, the
sequel tends to be a lot more confusing
and tedious than the first. Same for
which could be said about the ‘second
wave’ of Icelandic króna in 1981. A
revaluation from the old 100 króna
now becoming worth 1 new króna was
bewildering to say the least.
Króna coins now became produced
in denominations of 1, 5, 10 and a 50
piece in 1987. The 2000 denomination
of Króna was also introduced, but is no
longer used in main circulation – now
brandished as “tourist money”, meaning
that foreign exchange booths are more
likely to dispense the notes than ATMs
are. The introduction of the 100 Króna
piece in 1995 brought the demise of
aurar and eventually it became obsolete
in 2003 – it was most unquestionably the
end of an eyrir.
God Save The Króna
A lot has changed since the early days
of commerce in Iceland. The frequent
use of debit cards for purchasing quality
items has cancelled out most usage for
small coins, as it’s often typical to see
lonely króna pieces dispersed across the
streets of Laugavegur – along with the
vomit from a heavy weekend. Could this
be said for the UK and the States too?
Well, in the United Kingdom, for the
value of a Pound you can grab yourself
a few cans of non-branded baked beans
and a loft of chemically altered bread.
Maybe a can of strong supermarket
cider and a packet of ‘beef f lavour’ corn
snacks or even a plastic photo frame.
For a dollar, you can only grab
mainly food related items. Especially
cheeseburgers from a clown fronted
chain fast food eatery or various
confectionaries from vending machines.
Or even practical uses like to topping up
a parking meter.
One hundred Króna will get you six
plastic bags from your local convenient
store, a tiny chocolate bar depending
on where you shop or a small carton of
Svali also depending where you shop.
According to most folk, the best way to
spend your golden crown is a small tub
of f lavoured skyr from Bónus.
“My Ka-róna”
Commerce and Currency of Iceland
To some, the Króna may look similar to the well-known ‘pretend money’
dealt out during a popular economical domination board game. However
with up to 12 security features printed on each note, this physical form of the
Króna is surely no fugazi. Have you ever wondered what the difference in the
notes detail and complexity are? Let’s take a gander.
Where is the
Icelandic
Aristotle?
JONAThAN BAkER ESq.
hAiLEy LOMAN
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