Lögberg-Heimskringla - 01.02.2019, Side 15

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Lögberg-Heimskringla • 1. febrúar 2019 • 15
Kevin Jon Johnson
Sakai, Japan
e = mc2 – the equivalence of energy and mass
Represents a laconic gift of synthesis
As terrifying as an order by Leonidas:
Energy is transmuted mass,
And matter is ossified energy.
This small equation predicted Nagasaki,
And – with its siblings – lead Friedman to guess
The hellish genesis of our world,
And it’s still distant doom.
Relativization, a product of the Greeks,
Renaissanced with Copernicus and Kepler,
And prospered in our age.
Time no longer tread as absolute,
A rivulet which passed in a strict chronology
Of pasts to presents, or a course for more
Ordered yesterdays, disemboguing into
Entropied tomorrows, whose seeming surety
We invested in our verbs. Time changed
In gravitational fields, and at extreme
Velocities, stopping on the horizons of black holes
And at the speed of light. A clock
Runs faster atop Everest, and slower for
A photon than a fish. Gravity,
The child of warped space, bends with
The additions of mass into the fourth
Dimension of space-time. From our
Three-dimensional vantage point
We see our planets pass in parabolas,
Whereas they actually travel as close
To Euclid’s line as they can go
In a geodesic of the fourth dimension.
Nascent Science measured with a clumsy hand,
And its approximations allowed for its
Success, but our improved measures demanded
New arithmetical confirmations
As the ancient edifices decayed on the shore
Of the last century. Our universe
Is not immortal as our souls,
But Spinoza’s God has been ensconced
In a modern psalm through the spectacular
Achievement of Einstein.
RELATIVITY
is at last able to let go of “the shadow that had
clung to her for so long” and embrace her new
family and new home. “Maybe this wasn’t the
family she and Tag were born into, but it felt good
and warm and safe.”
Forgetting How to Breathe is an engaging
story about a young woman coming to terms
with the sometimes harsh realities of life,
discovering who she is and what values she
lives for, while learning to accept the love of
the people and animals that surround her. In
doing so, she discovers home. This book invites
its readers to pause and reflect at each step of
the story, evoking empathy not only for Tia but
for the whole cast of characters we encounter.
These are gentle, good people – sturdy and
resilient but tender and kind.
Anita Daher is the author of 14 books,
primarily for young readers, as well as
screenplays, articles, and reviews. Born in
Prince Edward Island, she came to Winnipeg in
2004, having lived in several northern Canadian
communities along her journey. She is the great-
great-granddaughter of John and Gudny Magnus
(Magnusson), who immigrated to Canada in the
late 19th century. Active in Winnipeg’s theatre
scene, Anita is also a popular presenter and
workshop leader at conferences and schools
across the country. During her varied career,
she has worked as a flight service specialist,
radio broadcaster, lunch truck driver, and grave-
plot salesperson – but writing is her passion. In
her spare time, she bakes (hence the recipe for
ostalaufur in her book), gardens, and plays guitar.
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Forgetting How to Breathe ... from 14
When Sæmundur the Wise was abroad,
and while he stayed in the Black
School, he forgot all about himself and
his family on account of the many wonderful
things he saw and learned. He even forgot his
own name, so all his companions in the school
called him “Buft.”
One night, as Sæmundur was asleep, he
dreamed that Bógi Einarsson came to him and
said, “Surely you act ill, Sæmundur, in entering
this school, in forgetting your God, in giving
yourself up to witchcraft, and in losing your
Christian name. If you care for your future
welfare at all, it is time for you to return.”
“That I cannot by any means manage to do,”
said Sæmundur.
“More of a fool you are,” said Bógi, “for
entering a school that you cannot leave at your
pleasure. However, if you are willing to return
home, I know how you can contrive it.”
Sæmundur answered, “You know everything,
Bógi; we are all children to you in wisdom. Yes, I
am willing enough to return.”
Then Bogi said, “Take my advice, and when
you leave the school, throw your cloak loosely
over your shoulders. As you go out somebody
will grasp at you, but slip out of the cloak and
make your way off. You have most to fear from
the schoolmaster, for not long after you are
gone he will miss you. But when you are well
on your way, take off the shoe from your right
foot, fill it with blood, and carry it on your head
all the rest of the first day. In the evening the
schoolmaster will observe the stars, in whose
movements and aspects he is well skilled, and
seeing around you a bloody halo, he will think
that you are dead. Next day as you travel, you
must fill your shoe with salt and water and
carry it on your head. During the day he will
not trouble himself about you, but at night he
will again examine the stars, and, seeing around
you a watery halo, he will imagine that you are
drowned in the sea. On the third day you must
open a vein in your side and let the blood from
it trickle into your shoe. Then you must mix
some earth with it, and carry the shoe on your
head, as you travel, all the rest of the day. In
the evening when the master examines the stars,
he will see around you an earthy and blood-
stained halo, and he will suppose that you are
dead and buried. Afterwards he will find out that
you are alive and well, wonder at your cunning,
and pride himself on having been the means of
your learning so much wisdom. He will cease
persecuting you and wish you well.”
With these words, Bógi Einarsson left him.
It was in that very way that Sæmundur left
the Black School and returned safely to his own
country.
A folktale from collection of Jón Árnason
(1819-1888), Íslenzkar þjóðsögur og ævintýry
(Icelandic Folk Tales and Legends), translated
by George E.J. Powell and Eiríkur Magnússon.
Sæmundur leaves the Black School
PHOTO: STEFAN JONASSON
Sæmundur the Wise at the University
of Iceland