Reykjavík Grapevine - 13.11.2015, Side 20
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By York Underwood
Icelanders ignored the warnings.
Nobody took notice. Well, most people
took no notice. Others were convinced
that the threat had gone away.
Internationally, people boasted that the
people of Iceland, a Viking settlement,
would flee at the first sight of trouble.
Then it happened. There was a crash.
It happened on a Monday.
I’m not referring to the financial
crash of 2008, which incidentally also
happened on a Monday, September 15
to be exact.
The crash I’m talking about was
just as figurative. The day pirates
first crashed the shores of Heimaey
(“Home Island”)—a small isle on the
Vestmannaeyjar archipelago, off the
south coast of Iceland—July 16, 1627.
Time is a flat circle
‘The Travels Of Reverend Ólafur Egilsson’
(‘Reisubók séra Ólafs Egilssonar’) is
the only English translation of one of
the most famous pieces of 17th century
Icelandic literature. It’s a diary of
reverend Ólafur Egilsson, an account
of what transpired after he, his wife,
his children and 400 fellow Icelanders
were captured by Moorish corsairs to
be sold into slavery in North Africa.
In Icelandic, this incident is known
as “Tyrkjaránið,” or The Turkish Raid.
At the time, “Turk” was a generic term
for all Muslims, regardless of their
place of origin. The “Turks” that raided
Heimaey originated from Algeria and
Morocco, selling slaves on the Barbary
Coast. They were just following
the whim of the market, grabbing
commodities that just happened to
have sentience. But why Iceland? How
did they get here?
They were led by the English and
the Dutch. It’s easy to miss, if you read
quickly, but Ólafur says in Chapter IV
of his diary, “In the boats were English
pilots who had guided the pirates to
Iceland, where none had ever managed
to come ashore.” He then adds, three
paragraphs down, when describing
the raid on his town, “Most of those
attacking us were English[.]” All the
pirates were under the command of the
Dutch pirate Murat Reis—originally
Jan Janszoon van Haarlem.
Pirates are steeped in folklore
and non-history as much as Iceland’s
Vikings. Yet the old adage, “Those who
don’t understand history are doomed to
repeat it” proves relevant. The “Pirate
Invasion” and the “Viking Outvasion”
seem similar, a modern update on a
past event. In the past English pilots
led “Turkish” pirates to the shores
of Iceland under a Dutch captain
to capture and sell Icelanders into
slavery. From 2000 to 2008, “Vikings”
led Dutch and English investors into
Icelandic banking (Icesave), while
laying the groundwork for the financial
slavery of Icelanders.
Making the myth
fit the story
The style of ‘The Travels Of Reverend
Ólafur Egilsson’ also has modern
incarnations. In structure, the book
is a cross between Carrie Bradshaw’s
‘Sex and the City’ monologues and the
artistic license of Quentin Tarantino.
Each chapter has a few remarks to set
the tone of the entry, with a Bible quote
at the end providing the take-away
conclusion—actually, this is almost a
cross between ‘Sex and the City’ and
‘Gossip Girl’. Ólafur’s Bible quotes
are rarely correct or from the Bible.
Ólafur seems to be quoting scripture
from memory, or just making up things
that sounds nice, similar to Samuel
L. Jackson’s famous ‘Pulp Fiction’
monologue.
Despite Ólafur’s commitment
to keeping a Lutheran lens on his
abduction, his Icelandic interests and
fancies come through. In Chapter XII,
while being held captive in Algeria, he
gives a detailed description of the local
birds and farm animals—a fine display
of that Icelandic interest in animal
husbandry that’s evident throughout
the nation’s literature:
“Because the sun is always high in
the sky, the land grows two crops during
the year, and all the fruits of the earth—
corn, grapes, grain (groats)—grow like
this. The grass is never cut, and sheep
and cattle are never put into houses
because there is no winter here, never
any frost or snow at any time the whole
year round. The sheep, which are both
big and very fat, lamb two times a year.
There are no barren or gelded sheep. In
one day, [a fellow captive] and I saw 100
rams, with tails hanging nearly down to
the ground.”
It’s easy to imagine Bjartur from
Halldór Laxness’s ‘Independent People’
speaking in this manner, in some
bizarre time-travelling sequel. Bjartur
no doubt inherited his materialism
from characters in Icelandic literature
dating back far further than the 17th
century. This remains an active trait
of the Icelanders, one you can observe
on television, in fashion, in the grocery
stores and at the bars. Icelanders have
a particular eye for material things,
for the splendours and riches of other
lands.
This is neither completely negative,
nor entirely positive. This desire drives
the small nation’s almost unbelievable
creative and innovative output—but it’s
also the desire that led the “Vikings”
of the “Outvasion” to sell out their
country.
The future and the
dark irony of pirates
in Iceland
If you managed to remember the Dutch
and English connection to Ólafur’s
capture, Chapter XXIV is prefaced with
a darkly ironic sentiment, as Ólafur
finally reaches Copenhagen after
arranging his ransom to be released.
“About my arrival in Copenhagen,
my good reception, and donations from
honest men, learned and not.”
Ólafur is writing about the one of the
Danish King’s Men, Jens Hesselberg,
who helped organize his release, but
also about the “Dutch Sailors” who
“knew him” and gave him several small
coins—to which he responded with
an enthusiastic “Thanks and glory be
to God, always!” This sort of irony is
found in every society, but the idea that
the same people who rob you will be
there to cheer you on when you’re set
free has modern incarnations in the
current economic and political status
of Iceland.
It’s the myth of Vikings and pirates
that runs as the cover story of this
very issue, wherein we speculate on
whether The Pirate Party has the
potential to save Icelanders from their
political woes. The irony of pirates
saving Icelanders from “Vikings”
is almost paradoxical as The Pirate
Party’s success in Iceland. As its name
betrays, The Pirate Party was founded
as a political outlet for those who
believe they have an inherent right
to freely share intellectual property
without considering its creators. This is
now the most popular political party in
a nation that prides itself on its creative
endeavours—a country whose identity
and international reputation revolves
around the idea that it is an an island of
artists, writers and musicians. The very
people who have been most affected by
groups such as The Pirate Bay.
Unfortunately, ‘The Travels Of
Reverend Ólafur Egilsson’ is no
longer available for purchase. The
website says, “Due to the effects of
the continuing economic crisis in
Iceland, the Reisubók is temporarily
unavailable.”
It can however be read for free
online at www.reisubok.net, with
no profits going to its translators or
publishers.
“In the past, English pilots led “Turkish”
pirates to the shores of Iceland under
a Dutch captain to capture and sell
Icelanders into slavery. From 2000 to
2008, “Vikings” led Dutch and English
investors into Icelandic banking
(Icesave), while laying the groundwork
for the financial slavery of Icelanders.”
The Pirates Came And
The Vikings Conquered:
Reading history and
seeing it repeat itself