Mondays in Iceland -#121

Summer Light, and Then Comes the Night

A Novel by Jón Kalman Stefánsson
Translated by Philip Roughton
Harpervia, 2021

A masterpiece of literary art.

Now that those preliminaries have been dealt with, I’ll delve into some details about this wonderful book.

It takes place in a small town on the Icelandic coast, somewhere north-west of Reykjavík. The story  develops over about ten years, spanning the turn of the 21st century. There are modern innovations; the computer revolution, DVDs and other pop culture, but the people inhabiting the area remain relatively isolated—from the world at large and each other—seemingly living with a foot in the past and an inability to openly express themselves. Eight inter-twined stories examine the foibles and passions of these people, seasoned with a fair amount of parenthetical philosophy along the way. It gives the reader a broad and unflinching look at Icelandic mores and mentality. The love-affairs that thread throughout the stories portray participants who are part of a grander scheme of things that they can only dimly see and barely comprehend: the eternal struggle between love and biology is never far from the surface. At times it is very funny and, at other times, it is heart-breakingly sad. It has been filmed and is in post-production, many of Iceland’s greatest actors are in it (including Ólafur Darri Ólafsson and Kristbjörg Kjeld), if it is only half as good as the book it should be glorious.

The writing is magnificent and Roughton’s translation flows:

We speak, we write, we tell about big things and small to try to understand, try to grasp something, even the essence itself, which is, however, constantly moving away, like a rainbow. Old stories say that a man cannot behold the face of God, that doing so would destroy him; and without doubt, it’s the same for what we seek—the search itself is our purpose; the result will deprive us of it. And of course it’s the search that teaches us the words to use to describe the splendor of the stars, the silence of the fish, a smile and sadness, the end of the world and summer’s light. We do have a task, apart from kissing lips; do you know, by chance, how you say “I desire you” in Latin? And how you say it in Icelandic?

This is one of the greatest books I’ve ever read.

Highest recommendation.