Reykjavík Grapevine - 16.06.2017, Side 20

For the first time in my life, I find my-
self wishing it were a cold winter eve-
ning. The sun is shining and I let it
tickle me, relishing its warm touch
but disappointed at its awful timing.
It really isn’t the right day for a crime
walk. Yet, here we stand—a group of six,
not quite sure what to expect but ready
to take the Dark Deeds Tour with Björn
Unnar Valsson and Sunna Dís Másdóttir.
History and legend
Hosted by the Reykavík City Library since
2005, the Dark Deeds Tour takes you on a
90-minute adventure around some of the
oldest corners of the capital while flipping
through the most sinister pages of Icelan-
dic literature. To me, it’s like wearing co-
loured lenses. I must have walked in front
of these buildings a thousand times with-
out so much as a glance. Now, all of a sud-
den, they acquire a life of their own as the
natural stages to the stories Björn and Sun-
na read out loud. As they recite the words,
the curtains open and we see it all happen
before our eyes in every little, creepy detail.
The traffic down at the harbour is
unbearably loud as Björn reads Yrsa Sig-
urðardóttir’s ‘Silence of the Sea’, so we
move quickly towards the government
house, which was used as a prison until
1815. As Björn explains, lovers Steinunn
and Bjarni spent a big chunk of their lives
here after killing their respective part-
ners in order to be together. Their tale of
passion and murder quickly becomes a
story of faded people who’ve turned grey
in their sorrows, losing all they had in the
name of love. It seems quite fit that the
one to tell it is actually one of Steinunn’s
descendants. “Don’t mess with me,”
Sunna jokes, and everybody chuckles.
A bloody walk
By the time we reach the former national
library I wonder when the grimaces will
replace the laughter. Glámur the ghost
comes back from an old Icelandic saga
to fight his nemesis Grettir but soon
Björn and Sunna decide to turn the page
and move on to another blood-stained
chapter. The unpublished story about a
murder in Frakkastígur, just five min-
utes away from where we stand, is grue-
some, even stomach-turning in all its
deviant details, but beautifully evoca-
tive. The stream of words almost drowns
us in perversion and for a moment no-
body can say a word, captured by a bone-
chilling scene that’s almost too vivid.
Soon enough we trot off to our last stop:
the house of renowned writer Benedikt
Gröndal. With its steep roof and bright red
facade, it’s hard to believe that this was once
an old ghost ship, sailing the seven seas
in the midst of a deathly fog and an even
thicker silence. As I look at the windows,
now sparkling under the afternoon sun, I
can’t help but wonder why the City Library
does not organise more of these walks
during the winter. Reykjavík’s colour-
ful houses make up for most of the city’s
charm during the summer, but it’s the
cold, dark evenings of December that bring
out its magic. When the snow coats the
streets and muffles every sound, when the
wind howls like a lone wolf and the night
shrouds the city in its blanket for months,
the Dark Deeds tour can finally have a
stage that will truly chill your bones.
A Tale Of Blood
And Murder
The City Library’s Dark Deeds Tour takes
you around some of the oldest corners of
the capital while flipping through the most
sinister pages of Icelandic literature.
CULTURE
Words:
Alice Demurtas
Photos:
Johanna Eriksson
SHOW ME THE MONEY:
Scandal
And
Meatballs
Until the mid-to-late 19th cen-
tury, most financial transactions
in Iceland were conducted in
vaðmál (homespun wool). How-
ever, since 1922, Iceland has is-
sued its own currency, the króna.
Iceland never being the best at
economic stability, the króna
has lost significant value every
decade since its initial issue, and
in 1981 we decided to cut a couple
of zeros from it, introducing the
current króna. So, let’s meet the…
1000 króna bill
The man on the 1000 króna bill
with the impressive beard was
the bishop of Skáholt, Brynjólfur
Sveinsson, known for translat-
ing the New Testament in the
16th century. That, and being an
exponent of Old Norse literature,
made him an important influ-
ence on Icelandic history. But
it’s not the only thing his name
is associated with—Brynjólfur’s
family relationships have raised
some eyebrows through the
years. For example, he married
his second cousin (but hey, it’s
Iceland, right?) and their daugh-
ter, Ragnheiður, died shortly
after getting pregnant with her
baby daddy. Cultural works have
used the scandalous drama as
an inspiration ever since. For-
give me father, for I have sinned…
So, what’s it worth?
1000 króna, which corresponds to
€9.09, £7.96 and $10.25, can get you
a plate of meatballs at the cheapest
restaurant in the Reykjavík region:
Ikea. Or you can take the bus from
the city centre to the shopping
mall Kringlan—but if you’re go-
ing to make it back, the only shop-
ping you can do is window shop-
ping. Too depressing? Well, you
can get a beer most places for 1000
króna. It might not be enough to
get you tipsy, unless you’re a light-
weight, but if you ask us, it’s bet-
ter than the meatballs. Cheers. JE
20 The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 10 — 2017