Atlantica - 01.12.2004, Blaðsíða 46

44 AT L A N T I C A AIRWAVES
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THE AUTHOR OF ICELAND’S HOME
LAXNESS IS AS CENTRAL TO HIS COUNTRY’S IDENTITY AS IS ANY NATIONAL WRIT-
ER IN THE WORLD. THIS IS NOT THE REASON THAT GLJÚFRASTEINN, THE MUSEUM
BUILT FROM HALLDÓR LAXNESS’S HOME, IS AN ESSENTIAL STOP ON A VISIT TO
ICELAND. EVEN IF LAXNESS WERE NOT A NOBEL LAUREATTE—IF HE HAD PERHAPS
ONLY WRITTEN HALF THE SIXTY BOOKS HE PRODUCED—THIS STOP WOULD BE A
MUST FOR THOSE INTERESTED IN ICELANDIC CULTURE.
Located in Mosfellsdalur, a ruggedly beautiful valley twenty minutes from
downtown Reykjavík, the museum greets visitors with a discordent vision
worthy of great fiction. After a scramble through foggy windy roads, you come
across Laxness’s large but tasteful house, with his Jaguar coupe parked out
front. Not exactly the car for Icelandic winter driving. Unless that car was
driven on one of the five nice days per year, you have to wonder how it got
there. A feat worthy of Bjartur, Laxness’s hero of Independent People.
Metre by metre, a tour of the museum shows the stunning complexity of
Icelandic culture. As an art museum, Gljúfrasteinn is unparalleled. Just enough
work, displayed with a discerning eye, and all put in context: the great artists
of Iceland either thought of Laxness as muse, or shared a muse with him. To
give some hint at how rich the paintings are: immediately inside, you’ll find
a religious work the great Icelandic painter Kjarval painted for a church in
Skagafjördur. When the church rejected it, Laxness rescued the vivid and emo-
tive piece, only to have to save it again when Kjarval attacked it on a visit, paint-
ing a moustache and giving other touches. Gljúfrasteinn lives and breathes.
With the help of the author’s family, who live next door, all the original furniture
is intact and seemingly just barely out of use. An hour in the house and you’d
swear you’ve seen Laxness pass you on his way to his cup of coffee or out for
one of his leasurely walks for inspiration.
The great writer of the Icelandic empty stomach boasted that he never missed
a meal, and while his characters struggled in shacks and boarding houses,
Laxness lived a life of exteme taste and common sense. Perhaps this is the
greatest inspiration behind a visit to his abode. This great writer was not a
walking scar, not someone struck by thunderbolts of inspiration, but a confident
man who depended on two assets: imagination and active intelligence. BC
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VIEW OF GLJÚFRASTEINN
from across Kaldakvísl. Only minutes from his childhood home,
Laxness walked this area frequently.

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