The Icelandic Canadian - 01.06.1973, Side 18

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THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
SUMMER 1973
PART II.
The Formative Years
My parents, GuSmundur Stefansson
and GuSbjorg Hannesdottir, were my
main source of inspiration. My father
was (intelligent, articulate, serious,
magnanimous, industrious, loyal and
honest. Never did he spare himself in
helping those in need. In fact his lavish
zeal in the implementation of his “I-
am-my-brather’s-keeper” philosophy
undoubtedly shortened his life. In his
youth he had acquainted himself with
Icelandic literature, ancient and mo-
dern, spiritual and worldly. In the few
spare moments he had he endeavored
to keep abreast of recent develop-
ments and modern literary trends. My
mother was goodness itself. No one
could be more conscientious in the
discharge of her household duties. In
her later years in the United States
she taught herself to read English and
Danish.
Due to the poverty of my parents
the only books we had were the Bible
and a few religious treatises, but I
read everything I could lay my hands
on, good or bad, depending largely on
the kindness of our neighbors. As I
have stated before, I became at the
age of 15 a hired man to my uncle,
Jon Jonsson in BarSardal. It was my
good fortune that he had a well-stock-
ed library of which I took good advan-
tage. At the present time I have a
goodly supply of books, mostly Eng-
lish, gifts from my friends, amongst
them the well-known Chicago electric-
ian, Hjortur ThorSarson, but the only
one of the Icelandic sagas in my pos-
session is the Sturlunga Saga. I have
read many books and can truthfully
say that I have no favorite author.
From some authors I have garnered
some gems, also some dross from each
and every one of them. I was impress-
ed with the writings of Herbert Spen-
cer and Darwin insofar as I realized
that to a considerable extent they have
shaped modern thought. I have en-
deavored to study the works of famous
authors, English as well as French,
German and Russian, in English trans-
lation of course, and have always felt
that the concepts contained therein at
times did not conform to my way of
thinking—even Homer, although parts
of the writings of some of them are
almost faultless.
At times I have been enchanted by
the reading of passages that I consider-
ed beautiful or profound. Although I
do not consider myself as a conform-
ist as far as religion is concerned, I
must admit that one such source of
inspiration was a well-known religious
treatise by Jon Vidalln, which was
read periodically at our family prayer
sessions. It impressed me greatly, not
because the author’s religious doctrines
influenced me to any great extent, but
because of the trenchancy of his argu-
ments and the beauty and forcefulness
of his language. I well remember
once in my boyhood that my mother,
we two being alone at home, read
Vidalln’s “Sermon on the Second Sun-
day in Advent”, the topic being
“Judgement Day”. Seldom have I been
more enraptured. Such power of im-
agination! Such exquisite language!
My mother taught me to read and
write. I had read fairly extensively by
the time I left home to work for my
uncle in BarSardal; had even started
to learn the Catechism in preparation
for my confirmation. Somewhat later
my father summoned me home for the
purpose of ascertaining how well pre-
pared I was for what was then con-
sidered a momentous milestone in a
person's life, confirmation. Being bash-
ful I dreaded this ordeal. I knew my
Catechism thoroughly, but performed