The Icelandic Canadian - 01.09.1981, Síða 20

18
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
AUTUMN, 1981
LUDVIK KRISTJANSSON
by Roy St. George Stubbs
When the Vikings were at the high meri-
dian of their glory, every Viking worthy of
his heritage was expected to be as ready with
his pen as with his sword. He was expected
to acquit himself with credit in a conflict,
whether of one sword against another, or
one sword against many; but also to be able
to turn a creditable verse, which rose occa-
sionally to the level of poetry, at the drop of
a hat, to celebrate a victory, to lament a
defeat (a rare occasion), to commemorate an
important event or a notable person. In his
world, poetry was the indispensable sine
qua non — the bread and wine — of the full
life. The occupation of poet was considered
as honourable an occupation as that of the
warrior.
This tradition continued for centuries.
Indeed, though the practise of writing spon-
taneous verse is not now followed on any
great scale, the old fire in the Viking’s blood
has not burned itself out completely. One
recent adherent of the tradition, among
Canadians of Icelandic descent, was Ludvik
Kristjansson. If one were to attempt to de-
duce his private thoughts about man and his
manners from his writings, one might well
put him down as a misanthrope, but one
would be far wide of the mark. Central to his
nature was a love of his own species. As a
‘fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent
fancy,’ he was a delightful companion,
whose company was eagerly sought by
everyone who knew him. Let us follow
briefly some of the tracks he has left behind.
He was bom in Iceland in 1877. Largely
self-schooled, he did not take his instruction
from learned pedagogues, but from medita-
tion, from talking commonsense to his own
soul, and from reading those books which
offer nourishment for the mind. He came to
Canada in 1903, settling in Winnipeg,
where he followed the trade of plasterer and
decorator. An excellent tradesman, he took
pride in his work. Many of those whom he
served during his active career are happy to
attest to that fact. His working philosophy
may best be summed up in the words of the
Cobbler in ‘Chu Chin Chow’:
The better I work, the less I earn,
For the soles won ’ t crack, nor the uppers
turn.
The better I work, the less my pay,
But work can only be done one way.
He used to say to his helpers: “Always do
your work so that you may be proud to put
your signature to it.”
He was married to Gestny Gestdottir.
They had a family of three sons and four
daughters. He died on September 5, 1958.
Ludvik Kristjansson was one of those
genuine human beings, now becoming
scarce, who live out their days of quiet use-
fulness without their true height ever being
taken. He always looked at life, steadily,
through the glass of his own temperament.
He was too good a Viking to ever welcome
“the warm cocoon of cosy thought”. He
stood on his own two feet and did his own
thinking. He never conformed to the mass
pattern. In his personal life, he made no
concessions to the tastes and fashions of the
passing hour. His was no life of respectable
compromise. Though not in active revolt
against society, he did feel the inadequacies
of modern life, with its emphasis on mate-
rial values. In short, he was worthy of his
heritage. He was a true son of the indepen-
dant people.
Early in the 1920s, Kristjansson began to
contribute verse to newspapers and journals
published in the Icelandic language. He was
a modest man. He never suffered from the
common vanity of poets. He did not over-
value his own productions. As a poet, he