Heaven and Hell

"I read this affecting, timeless novel about the lives of turn-of-the-20th-century Icelandic fishermen when I moved to the Westfjords at the beginning of winter. Fishing is the foundation of Iceland’s modern economy and most families have at least one fisherman—mine was no exception. Culturally, the fishing life is almost archetypal so it is a brilliant introduction to the bone marrow of Iceland, so to speak. My reading experience was bound up with the strong impression the land- and seascape, and this risky livelihood, were making on me. It took me into a parallel world—a Westfjords fishing village along a stretch of coast which, though fictional, was inspired by the shoreline where I lived. Past and present felt close. “I am excited by texts which render the landscape as animate and having agency” The narrative centres on the death of one of the main characters, Barður, who succumbs to cold at sea in an unforeseen storm. His fatal error—forgetting his waterproof gear—was caused by his engrossment in a copy of Paradise Lost . His friend and fellow crew member, a boy, vows to return the book to its owner and in doing so embarks on a perilous journey. But, en route, he is waylaid by the temptations of the town and its stories and inhabitants. This plot alone demonstrates one of many remarkable characteristics of ‘Icelandicness’: a fierce love of literature and literacy that was shared by the rural poor as well as the richer echelons of society. Death and the constant risk of death looms within the text, as does the imperative to remember the deceased. Done well, as it is here, there is so much life in that. As I would come to discover in much Icelandic literature, and in my own life there, the landscape—and in this instance the sea especially—is a protagonist, not a backdrop; one from which we can learn everything we need to know. As the narrator says, “The sea on one side, steep and lofty mountains on the other. Therein lies our whole story.”"