Reykjavík Grapevine - 17.07.2009, Qupperneq 46

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The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 10 — 2009
Poetry | Eiríkur Örn Norðdahl
I became a poet for more or less the same
reason everybody else did: I’m lazy and I
wanted to sleep late. That was the job de-
scription. You get to sleep late, drink late
and most people won’t ever find out you’re
stupid because what you do is beyond com-
prehension anyway – your roots are in some
ephemeral world on the other side of every-
thing and poetry is not supposed to be un-
derstood anymore than flowers (that’s why
so many poems are about flowers – flowers
rarely return the favour).
I’d read books about poets. They were
absent-minded and sentimental – check.
They liked drinking and smoking – check.
They read a lot of books, but in schools they
were flunkies – check. They loved nothing
more than lounging about – I remember
hearing the Icelandic poet Sjón (I think it
was him) say that 90% of a poet’s job con-
sisted of sitting at cafés talking about shit.
Double-check.
It all seemed so easy. You don’t need any
formal education and nobody can say (with-
out a doubt) that what you do sucks. It’s all
a matter of taste, and anyways, most poetry
doesn’t even get noticed, let alone deemed
good or bad. And poems are short. It takes
years to write a novel. You can write a 60-
page poetry book in a decent afternoon.
At some point I, and my friend (and poet)
Steinar Bragi, calculated that we could tech-
nically write 10,000 poetry books in one
year. Most of which would be better than
most of what we were reading.
And some years later, if you’re lucky, you
get a government stipend and get sent to ex-
otic countries to read onstage and lounge
about with like-minded (lazy) individuals
and being admired by people who wish
they were as good at being lazy as you are.
If you’re a loser, a drunkard, if you’re
mean to people – it’s all a part of the game.
Poets are supposed to be alcoholic, rude
and emotional, self-centred (wo)manizers
– people love it! It means they are really
gifted; they’ve seen the depths of hell and
are reporting back (to offer up one cliché on
the matter).
I’ve been a (serious) poet now, with in-
termittent jobs, for about a decade. And let
me tell you, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
I used to be a slacker. (Wo)Man, I was king
of the slackers. I could hardly be bothered to
keep up with a conversation, let alone par-
ticipate in one. But times have changed. I
haven’t had three consecutive days without
working in years. My day starts at eight in
the morning and sometimes stretches past
midnight. You know that time just before
you fall asleep and all the weirdest thoughts
in the world seem to crowd your mind?
Well, that’s the most important time of the
day for a poet. One has to keep vigil. Stay
concentrated. And woe to him who falls
asleep, for he will lose. (What he loses is not
certain, but he loses nonetheless). And still
you have to get up at eight because there’s
stuff to be done, deadlines to be met.
In two and a half months I’m going
to start my paternity leave, and I’m scared
shitless. In ten years I’ve managed to go
from aspiring sentimental loser to neurotic
workaholic. I’m not worried about having
nothing to do – babies are work, that much I
do know. But I don’t know what’ll happen if
I leave poetry alone for three whole months.
Will it wither and die without me? Will I
start writing in secret? Locking myself in
the bathroom to scribble a hurried poem?
Will the authorities find out and punish me
(I’m not supposed to be working while re-
ceiving government money).
Babies are inspiring. They will not be
ignored. They induce sleeplessness, which
induces creativity. I’m headed for disaster.
In short, I’m not sure if I know anymore
what to do with myself if I’m not working.
Besides, whatever happened to becom-
ing a loser? That was a fine and noble plan.
Had I been lounging about for the last 10
years, perhaps I’d feel totally rested and
relaxed and ready to face the challenge of
getting up in the middle of the night to
change diapers. Or perhaps I’d be totally
out of shape, with cirrhosis of the liver, still
mopping floors for a living, whining about
never getting anything done.
And despite all the neurotic worry-
ing, I’m as psyched as the next guy about
becoming a dad. It’ll be peaches and blue-
berries, all day long until he becomes a
teenager (at which point I’m sending him
to military school).
Poetics anonymous A (Slightly Outdated) History of
Iceland.
Speechless By
The Mountain
Books | Book Review Books | Book Review
As the title clearly states, this book is a
very brief account of the history of our
small nation and country. And the first
thing I noticed is that it is in fact very
small, making it quite handy for travellers.
The second thing I noticed is that the last
part of chapter one about the settlement
of Iceland seems to be missing. At least
from the copy I have. And typically, it just
had to be the most interesting part of the
story of settlement that continues to be
heatedly debated by both genetic special-
ists and us common folk alike; the issue
of whether Iceland was settled by brave,
independent-minded people fed up with
the oppressive rule of Harald Hairfair or, as
some would have it, outlaws and criminals
escaping Norwegian justice and grabbing
some slaves along the way. So I guess that
whether we Icelanders are descended
from criminals or bravehearts will just have
to remain a mystery, for now.
Despite the aforementioned smallness,
the book is packed with facts and infor-
mation, and somehow still manages to be
a surprisingly light read. The chapters are
short with informative pictures and the in-
dex at the back is also very helpful. There is
a map of Iceland and a simple timeline in-
side the cover that gives a basic overview
of the history of the country.
Christianity and the Church get a lot of
coverage, understandably, as Christianity
played a big part in history and politics of
old. But personally I would have liked to
have seen the Old Norse religion getting
more than just a paragraph. A note on the
first Icelanders way of living would also
have been interesting, but perhaps that is
moving into speculation rather than fact.
And Gunnar seems to be a man of facts,
which is fitting for a historian. For exam-
ple, he states clearly that it was indeed
Icelanders who were the first Europeans
to discover America, knowledge that has
long since been taken as a fact in Iceland
but the outside world somehow manages
to be doubtful about, despite the over-
whelming evidence in our ancient sagas.
The book was published in 2000 and
has been re-printed three times, in 2003,
2007 and 2008, but without being updat-
ed. Thus, on page 67, Ingibjörg Sólrún is
said to be the mayor of Reykjavík though
she only remained in office till 2003, and
on page 63 the U.S. are said to still have
a military base in Keflavík. So, although
most facts remain facts, some of the in-
formation in the book is outdated and
perhaps even more clearly so as the atmo-
sphere in Iceland has drastically changed
since the economic meltdown of last Oc-
tober. I particularly liked the part where it
says: “History has taught Icelanders that
political autonomy means prosperity, while
submission means decline.” (p. 34)
I think history has changed her mind.
At least according to those who claim that
submission to the Brits and Dutch in the
Icesave debate is the only way out of this
mess that we suddenly find ourselves in.
- hiLdUR kNúTSdóTTiR
A compact overview of the history of Iceland
that still manages to be a surprisingly light
read.
This short philosophical essay evokes
the question of the existence of the hu-
man being and his relations to the outside
world. Standing at the foot of the Askja, in
awe of its raw and majestic appearance,
Páll Skúlason – Icelandic philosopher and
writer – searches for his place in the world
as an entity. Wondering what connects
things with each other and what actually
makes the world a whole, he realises that
he doesn’t know anything. He feels that
he is thrown into the world, without any
orientation, not knowing where to go.
Askja for him is the symbol of the
world itself; or rather, a symbol of the en-
counter with the world and what is inher-
ent in it. At the same time it is a natural
symbol and re-condition for human ex-
istence. Having said that, Páll Skúlason
asks his main question: What is reality?
And is there a concept or a system be-
hind it? In line with epistemology, he
doubts the possibility of conveying one’s
true and own experience with the world
to others, concluding that it is impossible
to find an answer anyway. As a metaphy-
sician he asks about the connection be-
tween things in order to be able to find a
universal explanation for our perception
of existence, free of personal experience.
He also considers ethical arguments,
admitting that conventions and tradition
keep us together. But apart from all these
questions raised by philosophers in the
last centuries and millennia, like Socrates,
Heidegger, Descartes and Sartre, Skúla-
son makes the case that humankind
needs the reality as an independent en-
tity of everlasting connections. Conse-
quently, he ponders whether humankind
lives in an alliance of trust with the natural
whole, which means that true belief is a
natural belief, also the Christian belief.
There is reason why Skúlason – out of
all the natural wonders in Iceland – chose
Askja for his essay. Askja is one of the ac-
tive volcanoes in Iceland. Its last eruption
took place in 1961. Öskjuvatn, the lake
belonging to the volcano, is more than
200 meters deep and therefore the deep-
est lake in Iceland. The photographs gen-
erously included in this little booklet give
an idea of how vast and majestic Askja
and its surrounding looks for all the read-
ers who haven’t had the chance to see it.
They help one understand why Skúlason
was speechless when he went to Askja.
Even if the reader might not completely
agree with Skúlason’s theory, it becomes
clear how small and unimportant he must
have felt standing at the foot of Askja and
how hard he tried to answer the ques-
tions about his own place in the world.
- iRiNA dOMURATh
“Gedanken am Rande der Askja”
Páll Skúlason
University of Iceland Press, 2005
English translation available as
“Meditation at the edge of Askja,”
French translation also available
A Brief history of iceland
Gunnar Karlsson
Mál og Menning, Reykjavík 2000.
English translation by Anna Yates
THE FIRST SETTLER
OF THE NEW
WORLD
JÓNAS
KRISTJÁNSSON
A study of the ex-
pedition made by Karls-
efni to Vinland the Good
in circa 1010 AD which
planned to settle there,
but was forced to leave
due to the hostility of the
natives after 3 years.
Based on a new appraisal
of older sources, in particu-
lar the Saga of Eirik the Red, - probably most detailed and most
trustworthy source concerning the voyages the North-America.
U N I V E R S I T Y O F I C E L A N D P R E S S
haskolautgafan.hi.is – hu@hi.is – tel. 525 4003
GAELIC INFLUENCE
IN ICELAND
GÍSLI SIGURÐSSON
Why were the Icelanders
the only Nordic nation in
the Middle Ages to
produce secular heroic
prose narratives in the
vernacular? Is it possible
that the first Icelanders
were under enough cultural
influence from the Gaelic
world to establish an entirely
different tradition of story
telling and poetic talent from
that of their Scandinavian homelands?
Laugavegur 23
Tel: 5526970