Reykjavík Grapevine - 05.01.2018, Qupperneq 8

Icelandic has an undeserved reputation
for being a prescriptivist, gatekeeping
language. While this is definitely true
when it comes to given names, it’s not
as true for the rest of the language’s vo-
cabulary. Case in point: the Facebook
group Ný Orð (New Words). Here, you
will find Icelanders introduce a new
word—either one they heard or one
they thought up them-
selves—and run it up the
flagpole to see if anyone
salutes. Some of these
words have been fea-
tured in our Word of the
Issue section (e.g. “djam-
mviskubit,” which refers
to the shame one feels
after a night of party-
ing). Others are attempts
at translating foreign
words into Icelandic (e.g.
“mæðraflagari,” from “motherfucker”).
Icelandic, being a Germanic language,
particularly lends itself to the creation
of portmanteaus, or unusual blends of
words to create new meaning, so those
are also very popular. But the fact that
Icelanders are so eager to develop and
debate the creation of new words is a
testament to the fact that Icelandic’s
inflexible nature is a myth. People will
accept new words all the time, and
however controversial they may be at
first, if enough people say them, they
will enter the vocabulary whether the
gatekeepers like it or not. Just like in
any other language. Ný Orð is a won-
derful group for the purpose it serves:
aiding and abetting the vibrant, living
nature of the Icelandic language. PF
More facebook
groups:
gpv.is/groups
Words:
Paul Fontaine
AROUND ICELAND IN 80 FACEBOOK GROUPS
New Icelandic
Words Get Made
On Facebook
'Ný orð' seeks to expand the vocabulary
WORD OF
THE ISSUE
“Fössari” is an informal Icelandic word
for Friday, which is more formally writ-
ten “Föstudagur.” There should be noth-
ing particularly controversial about this
word in itself, yet for some reason it evokes
rage in a great many people. Think of an
informal word that everyone around you
says, like “smol” or “henlo” or “doggo.” That
cringing irritation you feel is what many
Icelanders feel when they hear “fössari.”
Interestingly, the backlash against fössari
inspired a backlash against the backlash. In
the accompanying image, a comic by Hu-
gleikur Dagsson depicts a funeral for a man
who hated fössari, wherein the attendees
then take the opportunity to all say fössari
around his coffin. And this is what makes
fössari so special; it’s
not the construction
itself, but the fact
that a new word can
be introduced to the
language that some
people will resist and
others will accept.
As such, fössari is a
testament to Icelan-
dic being as vibrant
a language as any
other, and that’s what
makes it this issue’s
Word of the Issue.
8 The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 01 — 2018
READER'S LETTER
Is Trump A
Skinka?
Hi Grapevine,
In Bjorn Halldorsson's article about
the Jolabokaflod (sorry, my keyboard
doesn't have Icelandic characters
on it), he mentions that “skinka” is
a derogatory term for bleached-
blonde women who frequent tanning
salons.
So does that mean that US
President Donald Trump is a “skinkur”?
He's definitely bleached-blond,
obviously spends a lot of time in the
tanning booth and, if I understand
correctly, -ur is the usual suffix
for masculine instead of feminine
(admittedly, my understanding of
Icelandic isn't very deep; that may be
an adjective vs. noun thing).
Keep those interesting articles
rolling. My wife and I spent a week or
so in Iceland back in 2016 and have
been following your site ever since.
Regards,
Tony Chesser, USA
Dear Tony,
We’re absolutely thrilled to hear
from you and to see your enthusiasm
about the Icelandic language. Your
observation is brilliant, but “skinkur”
is actually the plural form of “skinka,”
so it literally means “hams.” Whether
or not to describe Donald Trump as
“hams” is your call.
The closest male version of
“skinka” would be “hnakki,” which
literally means “neck.” A “hnakki” is
a tanned man with carefully combed
and gelled hair, who wears skinny
jeans and a tight shirt that shows off
his wannabe abs. He’d have a dragon
tattoo and listen to Euro trashy pop in
his Subaru Impreza. So essentially, a
“fuckboi” in modern language.
In that sense, Donald Trump
doesn’t really fit the “hnakki” or
“fuckboi” profile. If we have to find
a word to describe him, let’s just
say “appelsínugulur,” which means
“orange.”
Yours truly,
The Grapevine
The cutting edge machines our journos use
Big and orange
LÓABORATORIUM
Westlife–
“What
About Now”
Words: Jessica Peng
Alright, does anyone remember West-
life? Yes, the Irish boy band that re-
leased dozens of cheesy love songs you
grew up with. Aww or eww? Either way,
here’s a fix for your millennial nos-
talgia: Westlife released a song called
“What About Now” in 2009 and they
filmed the music video here in Iceland.
You’re probably thinking boy band
and Iceland—what a weird combina-
tion. It’s like eating cheetos with milk,
or licking an ice cream dipped in soy
sauce. Iceland is the land of quirky and
unconventional musicians, but some-
times we’re graced with the presence
of Irish gentlemen with broken hearts.
In the video, the band members sing
while standing in the howling wind
and snow near Jökulsárlón, the glacier
lagoon in Vatnajökull National Park.
“What if our love never went away?
Baby, before it’s too late, what about
now?” They were also on a glacier near
the famous Eyjafjallajökull back in 2009.
At some point the temperature dropped
to -8°C, but the band were very profes-
sional and sang their hearts out in the
freezing cold. Heartbreak and ice...come
to think of it, they do work together.
The music video was directed by
French-American director Philip An-
delman. At the end of filming, the crew
even shot some beautiful northern
lights, the green, purple, blue and white
colours lighting up in the sky while the
band members stood in awe. Icelandic
nature is so magical that it makes the
cheesiest song not so cheesy anymore.
“Here, you will
find Icelanders
introduce a new
word—either one
they heard or one
they thought up
themselves”
Fö
ss
ar
i
First
WHERE WAS IT SHOT?
Westlife by Jökulsárlón, because basic respect basic