The Icelandic Canadian - 01.04.1988, Blaðsíða 48

46
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
SPRING, 1988
This book is unusual for a number of
reasons. First we might mention the humor,
for it is a satirical work in the tradition of
Don Quixote, Gulliver’s Travels, or Candide.
With tongue in cheek Kristjan Gunnarsson
makes fun of and lampoons the political,
economic, and social scene in present day
Iceland showing up the politicians for what
they really are — what politicians are all
over the world — namely, men pretending
to represent the good of the people but all
the time much more interested in lining
their pockets and acquiring greater power
than in planning carefully what is for the
ultimate good of the nation as a whole.
There can be little doubt that a number of
members of Iceland’s parliament have al-
ready found themselves reflected, as though
through a looking glass, in this politically-
oriented study of Icelandic life. All of it is
done, however, with such a light touch and
with such evident humor that it is quite
possible that some readers will find them-
selves reading the book for its humor alone,
and thereby perhaps miss the serious mes-
sage behind the frivolity. But that is, of
course, the very essence of satire.
Next we might mention the plot itself.
The scene is laid in 10th and 11th century
Iceland after the introduction of Christian-
ity. The reader reasonably acquainted with
Njdl’s Saga, Egil’s Saga, Laxdaela, and
other Icelandic sagas will have little diffi-
culty in identifying most of the characters
of the story. The events, however, are a
lampooning of what is going on at the
present time. To see Icelandic saga charac-
ters struggling with 20th century social,
economic, and military problems is hilari-
ous, but at the same time it is all too serious.
The chief politician, for example, convinces
his fellow politicians to allow a foreign
power to establish a military bastion to
protect the land from invasion. The con-
tract calls, however, merely for the protec-
tion of the land itself and says nothing
regarding the protection of the people. To
find out what this leads to, you will have to
read the book yourself. We as human be-
ings seem to make the same mistakes as
our fathers did. Why can we not learn?
As a third point we might mention the
sweep of the author’s imagination. This, to
a great degree, distinguishes the artist from
the craftsman. Refska (meaning fox skin
in Icelandic) purports to be the translation
into modern idiom of an ancient book by
the name of Skammir (abusive language),
authored by Skuggi (ghost or shadow). It
tells of the war between the Krisar and the
vikings in the 10th century. Written in
magical letters and signs, this book was
preserved over the centuries despite being
tossed into a fire, being dropped into the
sea, and suffering other hazards. By a
curious process it finally comes into the
hands of a very wealthy American by the
name of J. P. Toodlestick who makes it his
life’s work to translate it — obviously an
extremely difficult task.
At the discretion of the God Shiva J. P.
Toodlestick selects by means of his com-
puter a banker in Reykjavik to whom the
manuscript is then sent. Over the ages,
however, parts of the original book had
succumbed to destruction and mutilation.
Such gaps were filled by a medium of easy
virtue and her boy friend, the ghost of
Skarphfidinn, the son of Nj&l, one of the
heroes of the Njal’s Saga, mentioned ear-
lier. Since Skarphedinn is a ghost, he ob-
viously cannot enjoy the favors of this lady
of easy morals except through a substitute.
The banker resists as best he can, but if he
wants the story to be complete (and this he
wants very much), he has to play the game
according to Skarphedinn’s rules. It seems
that Skarphedinn had his own keen sense
of humor.
Finally, we must not overlook the style
of the author. As mentioned earlier, Kristjin
J. Gunnarsson was, until his recent retire-
ment, a teacher, a principal, and finally the
Superintendent of Schools for the city of