Reykjavík Grapevine - 31.07.2009, Qupperneq 14

The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 11 — 2009
14
Literature | XX Chromosome Edition
Sources claim that Forlagið, Iceland’s
largest publishing house, is looking for a
chick lit author. Apparently there is a gap in
the Icelandic literary landscape that they are
looking to fill. Surveys conducted in Britain,
United States and Canada show that
around 80% of all sold fiction books have
female buyers. That is a high percentage.
Icelanders often pride themselves on being
avid readers and having the world’s highest
number of books published per year per
capita. Chick lit is labelled as catering to
the reading needs of the modern, urban,
professional woman, and sales numbers on
foreign chick lit shows that there certainly is
a market for it in Iceland.
So why is Forlagið facing a shortage of
chick lit writers in a nation of poets, writers
and artists? Are Icelandic women perhaps
not chic enough for the form? Is the usual
big city back drop essential for chick lit,
making Reykjavík too small town-ish for
the genre?
It’s a feminist thing
Chick lit has proven to be a pretty hard term
to define. As mentioned above, if chick lit
were to be defined as “what women read,” a
2000 survey suggests that that would make
about 86% of Mystery/Detective novels and
52% of Science Fiction novels chick lit.
Irish bestselling author Marian Keyes, in
spite of being considered by many to be
one the founding writers of the genre, has
often commented on her qualms about
the term. She points out how her books,
in spite of addressing issues like addiction,
loss and domestic abuse, are given pink and
frilly covers and labelled as light reading,
simply for having an urban, often single,
female protagonist. She claims that books
dealing with the realities of women today
are looked down upon simply because they
address mostly-female issues. So it is a
feminist thing. (And notice the diminutive
‘lit’ instead of ‘literature,’ which unarguably
suggests lower quality of work and labels
the books as somehow sub-literary).
Although people are obviously
struggling to define the genre, we certainly
know what it looks like. Chick lit covers
usually sport bright colours like pink,
aqua or lime green and cartoon drawings
of typical feminine icons such as lipstick,
high heeled shoes and cocktail glasses.
A quick visit to the nearest bookstore will
demonstrate that there are not many of
those in the Icelandic section. You will
perhaps find a few in the translated to
Icelandic shelves, but the shelves in the
Icelandic novels section are mostly stacked
with more serious looking colours like
white, grey, black, blue and ochre.
Never judge a book by its cover
“Icelandic women are chic enough,” says
Helga Birgisdóttir, an avid reader of chick
lit who also happens to be working on
her doctorate in Icelandic Literature at
the University of Iceland. And she points
out that a few brave Icelandic women
have, in fact, tried their hand at chick
lit. Djöflatertan (Þóra Sigurðardóttir &
Marta María Jónsdóttir), Dís (Birna Anna
Björnsdóttir, Oddný Sturludóttir & Silja
Aðalsteinsdóttir), and Klisjukenndir (Birna
Anna Björnsdóttir) being the most recent.
They all have female protagonists in their
twenties and deal with the modern day
realities of the mini-urban Reykjavík
maiden struggling to find herself and,
obviously, stumbling through some boy-
related troubles along the way. But can
these novels be defined as 100% chick lit?
Well, apart from the cover of Djöflatertan,
(purple, and features a cartoon drawing of
a fashionable young woman in high leather
boots), the covers are not so frilly as a visit to
the library will confirm.
The smallness of the Icelandic market is
probably one of the reasons why there are so
few Icelandic chick lit novels around. And
that can also be the reason for the different
marketing strategy. With the market
so small, there is no reason to label the
books so clearly with colours and cartoons.
Almost everybody gets a thorough run
through on what’s on offer before doing
their Christmas shopping anyway.
Is Iceland too small?
According to Helga, a big city backdrop is
not essential to the form. “A lot of foreign
chick lit novels take place in the countryside,
for some reason, especially British and Irish
ones. A big city stage is very convenient for
the form, because it is cosmopolitan. But
in a lot of novels you have women trying to
escape the city for the countryside”.
Reykjavík still has a long way to being
cosmopolitan. So, rather than meeting the
perfect guy in a bar and losing him after one
magical kiss like their foreign counterparts,
our Icelandic heroines are perhaps more
likely to discover that Mr. Mysterious is
indeed that second cousin from Kópavogur
they haven’t seen in years.
Dagný Kristjánsdóttir, a professor
of Icelandic Modern Literature at the
University of Iceland, points out that “just
fifteen years ago everyone was asking: Why
is no crime fiction written in Iceland? Is the
Icelandic society too small?”
Now, one need only to look at past years
bestseller lists to see that Iceland certainly
isn’t too small to serve as a believable crime
fiction backdrop anymore.
“Maybe the question [whether Iceland
is too small] is wrong,” Dagný suggests.
“Perhaps we should be asking why
publishers haven’t tried to follow the
success of Dís and/or ask for authors to
write some good chick lit.”
Well, it seems that they are about to.
Chick lit jr.
Although Icelandic chick lit novels have
been few and far between, another
imported genre has been booming. Chick
lit jr. is directly descendent from chick
lit and has often been described as chick
lit with teenage protagonists. The most
successful writers of Icelandic teen chick
lit are Sif Sigmarsdóttir and Bryndís Jóna
Magnúsdóttir. “So far, Icelandic chick lit
has mostly been aimed at teenage girls,”
says Helga. “They are written by chicks –
young and chic women, most of whom are
taking their first steps in the publishing
world. And who knows, maybe these
women will write more books in the future
for older chicks.”
Well, I certainly hope so. In the
meantime though, I encourage others out
there to roll up their sleeves and try their
hand at writing one. That includes you
men as well. Fratire (The New York Times
coined term for chick lit for men) is still
unchartered territory.
A Gap In Iceland’s Literary Landscape
Are Icelandic women not chic enough for chick lit?
HILDUR kNúTSDóTTIR
HÖRðUR SVEINSSON