Iceland review - 2019, Page 111

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Iceland Review
ing the group’s annual Christmas celebration
at Kaffivagninn, Iceland’s oldest restaurant,
every December).
Vigdís, who the Commander still refers to
as “our president,” confirms that it all began,
many years ago, when she arrived at the West
Reykjavík pool with her friend, Jenny Jochens,
to swim. Noticing the two of them, the
Commander approached and invited them to
Müller (the so-called “Jenny” exercise, named
for Vigdís’ friend, remains an integral part
of his Müller regimen). An active member for
many years, Vigdís was eventually compelled
to discontinue her Müller routine on a doctor’s
recommendation, after contracting pneumo-
nia (it is likely that Müller himself, who argued
that motion “increases and maintains vitality
up to life’s normally late limit,” would have vig-
orously disagreed with this recommendation).
Listening to Vigdís talk, leaning forward in
deferential silence, I am reminded how some
have described the Icelandic pools, in so many
words, as our great equalisers. Thinking that
this story lends credence to that sentiment
– but trying, perhaps, too hard to elevate the
story above its queer details – I comment: “It
says something, about Iceland, about Icelandic
pool culture, doesn’t it? They say that George
W. Bush was a member of the Skull and
Bones society; that Franklin Roosevelt was a
Freemason; that Nixon belonged to the Order
of the Red Friars, but I like the thought of you,
on the edges of West Reykjavík’s public pool,
‘Müller-ing’ with the common people.”
*They only refrain from practice if the wind
blows at an intensity of 14 meters per second and
if the thermometer reads seven below, which, “of
course, never happens,” according to Dóri.