The Icelandic connection - 01.06.2010, Síða 20

18
ICELANDIC CONNECTION
Vol. 63 #1
Verndari minnisins: Snaefri5ur Islandssol
in Halldor Laxness’ Iceland’s Bell
by Christopher Crocker
On its surface Halldor Laxness’
Iceland’s Bell might appear to be nothing
more than a historical novel; A novel
composed in the years of Second World
War, during the period where Iceland’s
independence loomed large - a period of
reorganization - when many writers’
turned their gaze to the past, amidst the
chaos of the war, searching for those
“national and universal values for which
the struggle was being waged,” that only
distance could properly bring into relief.
Doubtless the work is historical, though it
is interesting to note that Laxness avoids
any specific dating of its events, and, at
the time of publishing, Halldor himself
noted that his characters - though some
are based on real historical figures their
actions, and the style of the work con-
forms to its own exclusive laws. In this
regard, one could read Iceland’s Bell less
as a study of historical events, but - based
on the measured style of the work - rather
as a study of historical narrative forms,
namely those of the Old Icelandic sagas,
and the medieval Norse literature.
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But, before considering the nature of
Halldor’s stylistic debt to the Old
Icelandic sagas, and medieval Norse liter-
ature, in any individual piece, it would be
useful to look more broadly at his long-
standing dialogue with these canonical
works. Beginning as early as possible, we
are drawn to one of the first pieces pub-
lished by Halldor, under his own name, in
the children’s newspaper, Sunshine. In
this letter to the “Sunshine Children,” the
14 year-old Halldor takes on a didactic,
though tender, tone and along with other
advice, he encourages the young West
Icelanders to love their fatherland, and
promotes his deep appreciation for the
Icelandic sagas, setting the gauntlet by
telling his audience that he had read them
all by his eleventh year. This early enthu-
siasm for his countries’ great works is not
surprising for a young writer still search-
ing for a place to set his feet, though, his
later response is equally unsurprising in
the wake of the critical reception of his
early work. By the time he had reached
his twenty-first year, Halldor had all but
washed his hands of Snorri and those “old
Icelandic fogeys,” stating that, “On the
whole I do not think it is possible to learn
to write Modern Icelandic from Old
Icelandic; something else is needed.” It
may have been expected that a maturing
Halldor would have soon realized that the
immensity of history weighs less on a
writer when, rather than turning away
from it, one chooses to engage oneself
with it. Perhaps this revelation would
have come sooner but for the harsh con-
servative reception that met Halldor’s