The Icelandic Canadian - 01.03.1968, Blaðsíða 38

36
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
Spring 1968
Latin. He talked to us as if we were
highly learned and gifted. Our leader
uttered an occasional yes or no but
the principal substance of his orations
was beyond our comprehension. We
simply could not digest all this flowing
eloquent wisdom. We felt humiliation
at our ignorance but were filled with
admiration for this noble-hearted
patriarch. When Matthias had com-
pleted his discourse we all rose from
our seats. We realized that time had
escaped us and that we had detained
the famous bard beyond a reasonable
time.
“What are your names my dear
boys?” he questioned again. We told
him.
“Oh yes, that is right,” he replied.
“Now farewell and God be with you.”
He followed us to the door and we
doffed our hats as we left the house.
We had seen and heard the poet
laureate, and had sat with him in his
house! This filled us with great pride.
When I read from the collection of
his letters, the speech he gave us on
our visit comes to mind. In many ways
in these letters he shows his mastery of
words, ranging from minor to major
scales, and from black, through grey, to
white. Through all that he writes so
eloquently is found a main current
manifesting reverence and warmth for
all that is true and noble.
After my first visit I built up my
courage to pay him other visits but I
felt they were not frequent enough. I
felt a lack of daring to impose myself
upon such a learned and famous man.
However, he always received me with
open arms.
Once I took along some cognac to
enliven the conversation. Our conver-
sation led to reviewing the works of
Johann Sigurjonsson.
“Yes, Joi, he is damn good. He has
the gift of a genius when writing for
the theatre.”
Then the talk drifted to Skugga-
sveinn and Matthias admitted that
this play was somewhat outdated. Lie
surmised that if the author had been
writing Skuggaveinn now it would re-
ceive a rating at least equal to Fjalla-
Eyvindur.
When I was leaving Matthias said,
“Please give my regards to your grand-
mother and tell her I am going to
dance with her when we arrive in
Heaven.” When I conveyed this mes-
sage to the old lady she smiled sweetly.
Once when attending an entertain-
ment at Akureyri given 'by the town’s
male choir, I was sitting in the bal-
cony and noticed that all except one
seat were occupied. The singers and
musicians were in readiness on the
stage. The conductor was in his place
but why did he not lift the baton?
Why was he gazing at the empty seat?
Finally the door opened and in came
Matthias, mumbling as was his habit.
The audience looked around wonder-
ing. Just as Matthias took his seat the
choir burst out with force, “Ertu
kominn landsins forni fjandi?” In
translation this means, “Have you ar-
rived, you ancient foe of our land”? An
awesome feeling gripped the listeners,
but Matthias showed no emotion and
made himself comfortable in bis seat.
He simply smiled at the choir as if say-
ing, “Scream as loudly as you want to.
The polar ice does not deserve any-
thing better. I am well experienced
with a variety of treatment.
(to be continued)