Mondays in Iceland -#132

Awesome Auðurs

Auður (Modern Icelandic spelling) or Auðr (Old Icelandic spelling) is an Old Norse-Icelandic female personal name. It also has the variant forms Unnr (Old Icelandic) and Unnur (Modern Icelandic). It is sometimes rendered as Aud, Audur, or Unn in English and in other languages. ~ Wikipedia.

This was a name I was completely unaware of prior to my infatuation with all things Icelandic, an obsession which began in 2000.


Roughly translated as “wealth” or “prosperity” it comes from Germanic roots via the Old Norse. The first famous Aud was Aud the Deep-Minded (Auðr djúpúðga Ketilsdóttir), a ninth century settler of Iceland who is featured in several sagas.

In 2004 I discovered a not-quite-so-famous Auður who wrote an influential blog that I’ve referenced here many times. I had the pleasure of attending a play with her in 2006.


Another famous Auður was Auður Sveinsdóttir, who married Nobel Laureate Halldór Laxness and was also his close collaborator. She had a big cultural influence in Iceland in the last half of the 20th century, introducing new ideas in homemaking and crafts as well as being host of numerous soirées at Gljúfrasteinn, where she and Laxness lived. In 2012 I was given a tour of her kitchen!

A more recent Auður that I’ve discovered is the author Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir. She is one of the best of the modern Icelandic authors.

Finally, the intriguing Audur Helgadóttir Winnan, author of Wanda Gág, A Catalogue Raisonne of the Prints (1993).

The book she created covered the work and life of another of my obsessions, Wanda Gág. It is a masterpiece of research and writing and brought a wider awareness of Wanda into the twenty-first century.

Icelandic born, she and her husband, R. Gray Winnan, were patrons of the arts in New York City. Audur also worked on other artist’s catalogs, another “deep-minded” Auður.

The only image I uncovered of her was an embriodered name tag in this designer dress from the 60s.

According to the website the dress is an “honest” size 8.

Modern Icelandic Fiction

Codex 1962
A trilogy by Sjón
Translated by Victoria Cribb
MCD, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2018

Hotel Silence
A novel by Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir
Translated by Brian FitzGibbon
Pushkin Press, 2018

Music isn’t the only Icelandic cultural import; 2018 is shaping up to be a banner year in translated Icelandic fiction. I reviewed Hallgímur Helgason’s incendiary Woman at 1000 Degrees and have now read two more recent works by Icelandic authors. These are pure literature, not genre works, and both are well worth reading.

Codex 1962 is by Sjón: author, poet, lyricist and unassuming literary giant of Modern Icelandic Fiction. The previous works I’ve read of his have been modest affairs—exquisite novellas—whereas this is a full-sized 500+ page novel that is densely packed with allusions to European and Icelandic culture (including Halldór Laxness); a narrative that covers seventy years and references that span centuries. Full of digressions, unreliable narrators and clever literary experiments; this novel will challenge even the most sophisticated reader.

Auður’s Hotel Silence, on the other hand, is a very tightly spun story told from the point of view of an unnamed narrator who, despairing of his life in Reykjavík, leaves everyting behind (except for his tools) and travels to a run-down hotel in a country that is still struggling with the aftermath of a horrendous civil war. He intends to commit suicide there, to avoid burdening his family, but instead becomes involved with the locals as a fix-it man in the resource-poor society trying to reestablish a sense of normality. The book slowly develops from a simple story about human failure into a great novel of ideas and compassion. Her previous novel, Butterflies in November, was a humorous satire of modern Iceland, this is in another class altogether.

A note on the translated editions: Victoria Cribb and Brian FitzGibbon are on a roll, with Cribb handling serious Icelandic literature and genre work (she also teaches Icelandic at two universities in England) and FitzGibbon a heavyweight as well. Both of these translations have been supported by the government-funded Icelandic Literature Center, an organization that promotes the translation of Icelandic literature into many languages.


NOTE: I’ve been given a temporary reprieve from my secret government mission, enabling me to have the time to write this post (the mission is still a secret.)

Miss Iceland

A Novel by
Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir
Translated by Brian FitzGibbon

Iceland in the 1960s.

Hekla always knew she wanted to be a writer. In a nation of poets, where each household proudly displays leatherbound volumes of the Sagas, and there are more writers per capita than anywhere else in the world, there is only one problem: she is a woman.

After packing her few belongings, including James Joyces’s Ulysess and a Remington typewriter, Hekla heads for Reykjavik with a manuscript buried in her bags. She moves in with her friend Jon, a gay man who longs to work in the theatre, but can only find dangerous, backbreaking work on fishing trawlers. Hekla’s opportunities are equally limited: marriage and babies, or her job as a waitress, in which harassment from customers is part of the daily grind. The two friends feel completely out of place in a small and conservative world.

And yet that world is changing: JFK is shot and hemlines are rising. In Iceland another volcano erupts and Hekla meets a poet who brings to light harsh realities about her art. Hekla realizes she must escape to find freedom abroad, whatever the cost. - from the Amazon review.

The above blurb doesn’t address style. Miss Iceland is tersely written (there seems to be a lot of that going around these days) yet full of dropped names, places and 1960s references. A reader without a background in Icelandic culture and the layout of the City of Reykjavík would quickly find themselves overwhelmed by all the information. I could suss out most of the references and I could appreciate the dramatic arc of the book (Icelandic country girl goes to Reykjavík and discovers herself and a whole new world), which was and is a real-life experience for thousands of young Icelandic women. That part is fine. I found that the relentless references to 60s culture were just a bit too much baggage for a novel this slim to bear. There is also an egregious howler of an anachronism in the middle of the book that shattered my suspension of disbelief.  Previously, I really enjoyed Auður’s Hotel Silence and also liked Butterflies in October but Miss Iceland left me cold.

This just might be the last Icelandic book I’ll read for a while, at least until Sixty Kilos of Sunshine by Hallgrímur Helgason is available in an English translation.

In the broader scope of things, I find that I have pretty well exhausted all my Icelandic cultural pursuits. That fact, coupled with the Covid-19 travel restrictions, makes the prospect of my returning to ‘the rock’ dim. After having said all that, it may well be that  by this time next year things will be completely different.

My experiences with 20+ years of Icelandic culture made for a pretty nice ride, however.

Six for Summer

School is out at last.

It's been out for me for 44 years now, but at this time of year I still get a feeling of freedom, especially when the weather turns hot and sultry. Reading and viewing habits change in things cultural and shift to a lighter vein. Here are a hot half-dozen books and films for your perusal:



First up is a pair of films, both of which star Sir Anthony Hopkins.

The World's Fastest Indian (2006), was of particular interest to me in that it concerns motorcycle speed records at the Bonneville Salt Flats. My old pal Andy set a record there, forty years after New Zealander Burt Munro did. Andy rode a production 1970 Triumph over the course at 98 mph, but Burt’s heavily modified 1920 Indian went over 200! Both records still stand, but it is Burt’s story that was made into this fine film. (There should be a film made about Andy!) Hopkins disappears into the role, never breaking the spell cast by this fascinating character. A feel-good movie for anyone who isn’t too cynical to enjoy a ripping yarn. Burt made many trips to Bonneville, this movie condenses them (and several amusing side-trips) into one.



The City of Your Final Destination (2009), was the final Merchant/Ivory/Jhabvala production. Charlotte Gainsborough, Laura Linney and Hopkins are the surviving lover/wife/brother of a writer who languish on a decaying estate in Uruguay. They are visited by an inept but handsome academic who needs their approval for an authorized biography of the deceased scribe. Merchant/Ivory films are talky, slow and visually scrumptious–the perfect mix for a hot summer evening. The big action scene consists of a man getting stung by a bee. Not for the ADD crowd, I found it to be delightful.

From the sublime to the ridiculous:

Amy Schumer has carved out a career in comedy, her often raunchy and usually hilarious stand-up routines, specials, a film, and her TV show have put her on top.

On a whim, I picked up season 3 of her Comedy Central series, Inside Amy Schumer, at the library. The Weaver and I binge-watched it over the weekend. After a tasteless opening number, the material quickly improved. A mix of sketches, interviews, commercial parodies and stand-up made the 3+ hours whiz by. Amy goes deep into dating rituals, male/female psychology issues and ruthlessly explores self-concept delusions. The weakest part of these shows is, oddly, the stand-up segments (she could work on her diction a little). Her real-life on-the-street interactions are hilarious, and her “Amy Goes Deep” one-on-one interviews are excellent—even touching at times. But by far the best thing on the discs is the extended (full episode) parody of the great Sidney Lumet courtroom drama 12 Angry Men. Re-titled 12 Angry Men in Amy Schumer, this note-perfect parody features some of the finest character actors of the day as jurors who are debating whether Amy is “hot enough for television.”

the Trip: Andy Warhol’s Plastic Fantastic Cross-Country Adventure by Deborah Davis, is the true story of Andy Warhol and some friends who take a road trip to California in 1963 to attend his breakout opening at the Ferus Gallery in L.A.—we’re talking Soup Cans, Elvis, Liz Taylor—it would be a billion dollar’s worth of art on today’s market. Extremely readable and packed with quirky details about Warhol including his transformation from a shabby illustrator (Raggedy Andy) to the most successful Pop artist of all time. Davis obtained the receipts for the trip from his estate (Andy never threw anything away) which made her able to retrace the journey with incredible accuracy. She also interviewed several of the surviving people involved, giving this book a depth which many pop culture tomes lack. This would be a great movie.

Butterflies in November, by Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir.

This is the second book by Auður, set completely in Iceland. Modern Icelandic humorous fiction can be
off-putting for the uninitiated. The apparent self-centeredness, irrationality and lack of commitment displayed by the characters in them give the whole genre a surrealistic quality. Recurring motifs (road-kill, casual sex, awful weather) are more than clichés, however—Iceland is truly strange. The unnamed narrator, after finalizing a divorce, finds herself winner of two lotteries (one is for a trailer home, the other for the equivalent of about $400,000) and the temporary foster-parent of a special-needs four year old boy. They take off on a most eventful road trip, ultimately ending up on the east coast of Iceland in the town she often visited as a child. This is a solid effort, albeit not completely successful. The cavalier style of the protagonist became a little much for me after a while.

My final entry is That's Not A Feeling, by Dan Josefson.

This is the story of Benjamin, a troubled teen who is unceremoniously dropped off at Roaring Orchards, a residential facility in upstate New York housing similar youths. It is run by Aubrey, a geriatric philosopher with peculiar ideas about rehabilitation. Enforcement of the schools arbitrary and ever-changing rules is accomplished through a combination of meds, group therapy and social ostracism.

There is a lot of stuff going on here, but mostly on a shallow level. This is a first novel and has “writers workshop” stamped all over it. It would make for a good movie however; some talented teen actors would have a field day with this set-up.

Animal Life

A Novel

By Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir
Translated by Brian FitzGibbon

This is the fifth novel by Auður that I’ve read; she is one of the most-respected modern Icelandic authors. This book consists of vignettes and ruminations of a middle-aged midwife in Reykjavík.

In the days leading up to Christmas a terrible storm races towards Reykjavík. Midwife Dómhildur delivers her 1,922th (typo?) baby. She has inherited an apartment full of memories from her grandaunt, also a midwife, who had a reputation for her unconventional methods. Dómhildur’s paternal side was filled with undertakers causing her to have a deeper perspective on the coming and goings of life. Dómhildur discovers decades worth of letters and manuscripts hidden amongst her grandaunt’s clutter. Her anxious meteorologist sister and her curious new neighbor compound things as Dómhildur digs into her grandaunt’s archive and discovers strange and beautiful reflections on birth, death, and human nature. And, like the previous Icelandic book I just read, there is a playlist!

And, as far as plot is concerned, that’s it, but plot is not the point of this book. I’ll let you discover these subtle truths for yourself, it would be a literary crime to quote them out of context. I will say, however, that the text is firmly grounded in the City of Reykjavík; with a decent map you could exactly follow her on her trips throughout the city. This evoked strong memories in me; something that a casual reader might not share. Aside from the aforementioned typo, FitzGibbon’s translation is fine, even poetic at times.

Qualified recommendation, if you liked her other works, you’ll love this. If you like plot-driven novels you might pass this one by.

Icelandic Book Reviews

Links to FITK reviews of books by Icelandic authors:

Alda Sigmundsdóttir

Arnaldur Indriðasson

Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir

Bergsveinn Birgisson

Bragí Ólofsson

Guðrún Mínervudóttir

Hallgrímur Helgasson

Halldór Laxness

Hildur Knútsdóttir

Jón Gnarr

Jón Kalman Stefánsson

Kristín Eiríksdóttir

Kristín Omarsdóttir

Maria Alva Roff

Oddný Eir

Olaf Olafsson

Ragnar Jónasson

Sigríður Hagalín Björnsdóttir

Sjón

Yrsa Sigurðardóttir

Þórbergur Þórðarson