Reykjavík Grapevine - 20.06.2014, Side 24

24 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 08 — 2014
strike up conversation when, say, waiting
for a bus. Mostly no more will come of
this, but the possibility is still there, and
in any case, this can be a pleasant way to
pass the time.
Not so in Iceland.
In fact, I have sometimes heard Ice-
landic women describing trips abroad in
much the same terms as the Swiss girl
described Iceland. They felt very uncom-
fortable being addressed by an unknown
man in broad daylight. There is a time and
a place for these things. And that time
and place is on and around Laugavegur
on a Friday or Saturday night. Five to ten
drinks in.
Drunken Teenagers
Going On 50
I was 22 and living in Helsinki when I
learned that it was OK to talk to women
while sober. And this, mind you, was
in Finland. In the
capital area, the
Finns have devel-
oped something of
an embryonic dating
culture, but leave the
big city and you find
yourself in a Kau-
rismaki movie. The
same broadly applies
to Oslo versus most
of the rest of Norway, or Southern ver-
sus Northern Sweden. Even in Århus,
Denmark, they go out on dates. I know
this from first-hand experience, though
I can’t really speak for the more unintel-
ligible parts of Western Jutland.
For an Icelander, it largely seems to
apply that the farther away from civili-
sation you go, the more you feel at home.
And while it is true that all Nordic coun-
tries went through the same bout of
Puritan insanity in the 17th Century,
perhaps it is actually the size of a place
rather than the religious history that
counts when it comes to sex.
After all, we do sleep around, where-
as the Puritans didn’t. We just don’t do it
sober.
No Lack Of Sex In Iceland
Sometime last year, newspaper Morgun-
blaðið published a cover story on single
women in Iceland, which they wrote ac-
counted for 47% of women aged 20-39,
up from 38% 15 years earlier. And while
most of the women interviewed made
the point that they enjoyed singlehood,
some also complained about Icelandic
men’s introversion, overcome only with
excessive amounts of alcohol.
Yet, there is no lack of sex in Iceland.
According to the Durex Global Sex Sur-
vey, Icelanders are actually world lead-
ers when it comes to first sexual contact,
clocking in at an impressive average
age of 15.6 years. Unfortunately, there
are no statistics measuring the level of
drunkenness when this occurs. The
same study puts us fourth when it comes
to average number of sex partners. Ap-
parently, we get an average 13 each, well
ahead of the global average of nine, but
behind New Zealand, Australia and
Turkey. Again, there is no accounting
for the level of drunkenness, nor if there
is any correlation between numbers of
sheep in a given country and numbers of
sex partners therein.
The question, then, is this:
How are all these hopeless men hav-
ing so much sex? Somebody must be do-
ing something right. Right?
Could it even be that Icelandic men
are rewarded for the very same behav-
iours that so horrify, say, the Swiss (av-
erage number of sexual partners: 11.1)?
That as our 15.6th birthday rolls around
we all get happily drunk and lose our
virginities, but at the price of becoming
promiscuous Peter Pans, unable to grow
up or learn how to do it any other way?
The Virtues Of
Alcoholism
As those raised in Iceland will attest, the
link between severe drunkenness and
sex is forged early on. Which, in itself,
needn’t be so bad, until you see the divor-
cees in their 30s, 40s and 50s mindlessly
stumbling between bars and blackouts,
using the only method they know that is
both efficient and socially acceptable in
order to approach one another? Which,
again, may go some way towards ex-
plaining the drinking culture.
Iceland is one of the few places where
alcoholism actually gives you a competi-
tive advantage when it comes to court-
ship. Most normal people wouldn’t know
how to behave amongst the bare-chested
men at the bar, but for an alcoholic, this
soon becomes a natural state of affairs. If
you feel at ease in your surroundings, you
naturally become more attractive. And in
environments like these, it helps to have
a drinking problem.
Thus, the alcoholics
breed like the rabbits
in Öskjuhlíð, result-
ing in all those embar-
rassing sloshed uncles
found at every family
reunion.
If society’s re-
ward system turns
you to drink, then the
flip side is that it penalizes sobriety. The
smallness not only encourages excessive
drinking, it also discourages dating. In a
small town, if a boy and girl decide to meet
in broad daylight, everyone will know
about it. “I didn’t know they were seeing
each other,” someone will say to someone
else even though it might have been just
that one date and so they might have to
spend the next weeks and months retract-
ing the rumours. A failed date is not only
a personal humiliation, but also a social
embarrassment.
Much better to construct this other-
world, where men and women are free
to mingle, the lights are dim and memo-
ries hazy, and what happens doesn’t re-
ally count. Going out on a date in broad
daylight is a major commitment, going
home with someone at night is not. Hav-
ing picked and made your way among the
princes and the frogs, you eventually take
the big step with your chosen one from the
otherworld to the regular one, and you
can finally watch movies together have
kids, move in and eventually, perhaps
marry.
Unless, of course, you find out some-
where along the way that the guy is a com-
plete bore.
Finding A Way Into
Icelandic Society
Fast forward a few days, and I am sitting
at the university cafeteria with group of
foreign men. No dirty weekend tourists
these, hardly Brits on the piss. Rather,
they are able scholars, a Spaniard, a Ger-
man and a Latvian, who all speak Icelan-
dic fluently. Perhaps they assumed lin-
guistic ability would allow them to enter
Icelandic society, but the Spaniard is feel-
ing dejected. “There is no flirting here, or
anything like that,” he says. “When I want
something physical, I go abroad.”
As the days become longer, then
shorter again, it’s strange to think that
somewhere out there are places where it
is possible to have a conversation without
the aid of King Alcohol. Perhaps, one day,
we will be more like them.
Until then, there is always another Sat-
urday night at the bar.
Valur Gunnarsson is a writer reluc-
tantly living in Reykjavík. His novel
‘Síðasti elskhuginn’ (“The Last Lover”)
came out last autumn and is now avail-
able on ebook (Icelandic only). You can
see him at Ölstofan over the weekends.
www.ebaekur.is/Book/569507/sidas-
ti_elskhuginn/
“If you feel at ease in
your surroundings,
you naturally become
more attractive. And
in surroundings like
this, it helps to have a
drinking problem.”