Lost in Translation? Great Icelandic Literature that Needs to be Translated

This is part two of a series on Icelandic literature – head over to Interesting Icelandic Authors and Recommended Translated Books to read the other one. This blog is written by Einar Steinn, one of Your Friend in Reykjavik‘s guides. A dedicated book lover with an impressive knowledge of Icelandic literature, Einar brings a wealth of insight into Iceland’s storytelling traditions. Born and raised in Reykjavík, he’s a guide, skilled tourism writer, and translator.

As I mentioned in my other blog series, Icelanders have a long and proud literary heritage dating back to the Middle Ages. That’s when classic works of literature, the Icelandic sagas and the two Eddas, were written. The sagas focus on heroes from the Viking age, and the Eddas on Norse mythology. Nowadays, hundreds of new titles are published yearly in Iceland. This is no small feat for a country with a population of less than 400,000.

Many writers have reached an international audience and have been translated into English and other languages. Yet, many great works remain untranslated. In this blog, I want to tell you about great Icelandic works that need an English translation and their authors. The difficulty of translating them may vary. Some may be easy, while others may seem impossible. But strange things can happen, and I hope my blog may play a small role in urging these works to be translated.

Benedikt Gröndal

Benedikt Sveinbjarnarson Gröndal (1827-1907) was a Renaissance man in the sense that he was a man of many talents. He was an excellent self-taught illustrator and made hundreds of drawings of animals and plants, notably his great collection Birds of Iceland, featuring an overview of known Icelandic birds. Gröndal was a linguist and translator who translated the Iliad from Greek to Icelandic. He was a natural scientist and, indeed, the first president of the Natural Science Association of Iceland. He collected biological specimens and wrote textbooks on natural history. Gröndal was also a poet of the romantic school, a novelist, a short story writer and a playwright. He was also a humorous writer and could be wonderfully funny.

Gröndal was born at Bessastaðir, the son of poet, teacher and schoolmaster Sveinbjörn Egilsson, best known for his translation of Silent Night, which to this very day are the lyrics Icelanders sing to the hymn. Sveinbjörn was an excellent translator in his own right, translating the Odyssey from Greek to Icelandic. Bessastaðir is where our president now resides.

The house where Gröndal lived during his last years, formerly in Vesturgata, still stands but is now located in the Grjótaþorp neighbourhood and known as Gröndalshús. There used to be a small exhibition about Gröndal, but the house is now closed to the general public. It is, however, operated and rented out as a writers’ retreat.

Aside from his wonderful illustrations, which are way overdue for republication and absolutely need to be published in English as well, the two works by Gröndal that are considered to have aged best are his autobiography Dægradvöl (Pastime) and the novel Heljarslóðaorusta.

Dægradvöl

Dægradvöl is widely considered to be one of the best written autobiographies in Iceland. It gives a very good if very subjective portrait of Gröndal’s life and times, with great descriptions and candidness, indeed often with brutal honesty. Gröndal was not one to suffer fools or slights gladly and did not mince words. Just like he could be wonderfully funny and earnest, he could also be grumpy and bitter, and there is a tragic element there as well, as it seems apparent from reading the book that Gröndal suffered from depression. Self-doubt, anxiety and a constant desire for recognition and praise, warmth and encouragement permeates the work as well.

My intellect is of no extraordinary sensibility, but I always remember what I read or write, most everything, but not ad verbatim by heart, except some things by chance. My imagination is lively and ripping, and though I’m considered eccentric and strange, I’ve always been able to reign myself in more than many would think, if they knew me completely. My ideas have always followed me, I’ve never lost sight of them, and they have never faded, although I’ve had to wait for years. I’m a workhorse when it comes to reading and quick to understand, but when it comes to writing I am uneven, depending on what catches me; the ideas sometimes roll onto me so quickly that I’m overwhelmed and miss out on half of them. This actually comes as a result of me having read all kinds of writings, but I’ve never taken anything from anything without attributing it.

–        Benedikt Gröndal, Dægradvöl. English translation: Einar Steinn Valgarðsson.

Heljarslóðarorusta

Heljarslóðarorusta (The Battle of Hel’s Path) is a comic tale inspired by true events. The historical background is the Battle of Solferino in 1859 between Austria and France and the events surrounding it. Napoleon III is indeed the main character. But what Gröndal does so brilliantly is that he writes in the style of a comic legendary saga, complete with archaic language and a juxtaposition of the lofty and the down-to-earth, the grand and the provincial, which provides a great source of humour. A lot of the humour is tied up with the language and locality, but I still hope that it can be translated one day. I have attempted to translate two examples of his humour myself. The first is from a layout of the world in the style of Snorri Sturluson’s Prose Edda:

West of Iceland lies the Atlantic Ocean; there lies Iceland, there is the Þjóðólfur newspaper[1] and there is the great sheep scab pest.[2]

The other is when Napoleon is getting ready for battle and meets French historian and politician Thiers in the palace garden:

The imperial couple met Thiers in the garden. Thiers was carrying the first volume of the history of the revolution and was scowling, because he had found a typing error in the book, le instead of de, and thought ill of this, if people got the idea to compare his revolution history with Þjóðólfur magazine.

“Greetings, Thiers,” said Napoleon. 

“Greetings to you, my dear Napoleon,” said Thiers.

“Well, how do you like the look of me now?” said Napoleon.

“Good,” said Thiers.

Aren’t my weapons rather soldier-like,” said Napoleon. 

“Yes, said Thiers.

“Isn’t this a beautiful helmet?” said Napoleon.

“Yes, said Thiers.

“Isn’t that a beautiful shield,” said Napoleon.

“Yes,” said Thiers.”

“How do you like the painting of the lion on it? Isn’t its left leg rather short?” said Napoleon?”

“Yes, said Thiers.

“Isn’t that a fair spear?” said Thiers.”

“Yes,” said Thiers. 

Aren’t my grand boots warrior-like?” said Napoleon? 

“Yes,” said Thiers. 

“And then I’ve got a damn big sailor’s sweater that farmer Ófeigur at Fjall[3] which Þjóðólfur gave to me,” said Napoleon.

“That is so, said Thiers.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting wet in this sweater,” said Napoleon. 

“Aye,” said Thiers.

“Well, what a damn grump you are being, Thiers,” said Napoleon.

“Ah,” said Thiers.

“Yes, you only reply in monosyllables,” said Thiers.”

“Hm,” said Thiers. 

„How do you think this will all turn out,” said Napoleon. 

“I don’t know,”said Thiers.

“Well, good day to you Thiers.”

“Good day to you, my dear Napoleon,” said Thiers. 

–        Benedikt Gröndal, Heljarslóðarorusta. English translation: Einar Steinn Valgarðsson.

[1] Local newspaper at the time. Gröndal didn’t particularly care for its editor.

[2] A pest that plagued Icelandic sheep around that time. A big debate had filled the papers; whether the sheep should be slaughtered or given medicine. Gröndal felt that the coverage had reached absurd levels.

[3] Big-shot farmer in Iceland at the time.

Eyvindur P Eiríksson

Eyvindur P. Eiríksson (b. 1935) is an Icelandic writer, poet, novelist, translator and playwright. In his works he often deals with themes such as alienation, man vs nature and features both dark humour and deep lyricism. A strong sense of pacifism and socialism is also seen through his works. He is a retired teacher and also worked in radio and television. He is a regional leader within the neopagan association Ásatrúarfélagið and is father to Icelandic rappers Sesar A (Eyjólfur Eyvindarsson) and Blaz Roca (Erpur Eyvindarson).

Landið handan fjarskans (The Land Past the Beyond)

Eyvindur received the Halldór Laxness Literary Prize and was nominated for the Icelandic Literary Prize for his novel Landið handan fjarskans (The Land Past the Beyond). It was followed by the sequel Þar sem blómið vex og vatnið fellur (Where the Flower Grows and the Water Falls). The story is inspired by tales of Eyvindur’s ancestor, who fled a war and ended up in Iceland.

The first book is set abroad. It deals with the initial fervour, subsequent disillusion, and horrors of war and carries strong pacifist and humanist tones. The story also explores identity, imposed and self-created, as the main character undergoes many shifts in identity while trying to forge a new one and leave behind the ghosts of his past. The second book takes place in Iceland. The protagonist attempts to adapt to the new country, its people, and settle down, but his past continues to haunt him.

The war in question was between Finland and Russia. Eyvindur conducted extensive historical research to get the details right. Yet, he chooses to make things ambiguous. He plays with language and is a master wordsmith. I’ve attempted to translate the intro here, a lullaby that refers to the story’s events.

How old is the moon and moon?

Go to sleep my sweet and sweet
go to sleep my gentle and gentle
for two nights old is the moon.

Where does it come from, the moon and moon?

From the forest that burns
and the water that flames.

And where shall the ship head?

To the land past the beyond

On the other side of the moon and moon
and go to sleep my sweet and sweet.

They were on the ships
and ships and ships
where the great lakes were
the waters and the sea
the great great water
and the great great sea
they rowed and rowed
and rowed the skin of their knuckles
and rowed calluses from their palms
rowed the bright day
and the dark night
and the day became dark
dark from the black fog
dark from black clouds
and the night lit lit
from the flames in the ships
and the flame disappeared into the sky
with human bodies in its arms
and the hands and feet
and the hands and hands
that swam from the darkness
and the hands that gripped
gripped the railings tight
and the bloody oars.

What did grandpa do then?

Grandpa took the saber

And grandpa took the cutlass
grandpa cut the hands
the hands on the railings
cut into a full tub
cut into a full barrel.

My grandma and my grandma!

Then he started crying
grandpa cried and cried
he couldn’t stop crying
he still cries in his coffin
grandpa does.

And now snuggle next to me
my sweet and little one
go to sleep my gentle and gentle
and stop your crying
for grandpa is resting
resting in his coffin
with a uniform and saber
his broken saber by him
and maybe he’ll get to sleep
with his saber in his coffin.

And tomorrow the day comes
then it’s no good crying
and whining!

– Eyvindur P. Eiríksson, Landið handan fjarskans. English translation: Einar Steinn Valgarðsson.

Álfrún Gunnlaugsdóttir

Álfrún Gunnlaugsdóttir was an Icelandic writer and scholar. Born in Reykjavík in 1939 she studied literature in Spain and did her doctorate in Switzerland. She was an Assistant Professor at the University of Iceland from 1971-1977, an Associate Professor in the same field from 1977-87, and Professor from 1998 until her retirement in 2006. In the autumn of 2002, she headed the Literature and Linguistics Department at the Philosophy division of the University of Iceland.

Álfrún published seven novels to great acclaim. Her works are often experimental, fragmented, multilayered and modernist in form, with shifts in viewpoints, timeframe and settings, and her themes include examinations of power dynamics and oppression, political ideas and the fights committed in their name, coming to terms with one‘s past, one‘s memories and ideals and dealing with individual, societal and generational trauma. The threat of war and its effect on the individual also appears in her works.  Álfrún was made the onorary professor of the Icelandic and Cultural Division of the University of Iceland in 2010. In 2018, she received The Knight‘s Cross of the Icelandic Order of the Falcon for her contributions to literature and university education in Iceland. Álfrún passed away in 2021.

Yfir Ebrofljótið (Across the River Ebro)

Álfrún wrote what I consider to be one of the best Icelandic novels I‘ve ever read. Published in 2001, it was nominated for the Icelandic Literature Award and the Nordic Council‘s Literature Prize. It‘s an absolute masterpiece and is called Yfir Ebrofljótið (Across the River Ebro). I first read it as a teenager and have loved it ever since. When I hosted a literature night in my high school and invited Álfrún to read, she was kind enough to accept my invitation and read from that book. Despite the small attendance, it is a memory that I will always treasure. 

 Yfir Ebrofljótið opens with a quotation from  W.H. Auden‘ 1937 poem Spain:

Through the unjust lands, through the night, through the alpine tunnel

They floated over the oceans:

They walked the passes: they came to present their lives.

The Spanish Civil War through an elderly participant’s eyes

In this great novel, Álfrún writes about the Spanish Civil War from the viewpoint of an elderly participant recalling and coming to terms with his past.

The Civil War broke out in Spain in 1936. The military junta, led by General Franco, staged a coup d’état against the democratically elected government of The National Front. During the war, the Nationalists, or republic supporters, formed the International Brigades and called upon internationals to volunteer in their struggle. Among the left, many heeded the call, seeing it as a fight for democracy against fascism. It was also a precursor to the Second World War. The tale’s protagonist is one of the many young men who joined the fight.

It’s not widely known that three Icelanders joined the ranks of the International Brigades: Hallgrímur Hallgrímsson (1910–1942), Aðalsteinn Þorsteinsson (1914–1961), and Björn Guðmundsson (1914–1972). Hallgrímur published his memoirs of the war in 1941. Álfrún’s book is partly based on them and is dedicated to their memory.

The novel follows Haraldur, the narrator and a composite of many young men who fought for the republic. As an old man, he reflects on his past, dealing with trauma, painful memories, and the examination of his old ideals. Based on extensive research, the book vividly brings his story to life. It shifts back and forth in time, from his early idealism and the camaraderie of young volunteers to the horrors of war, betrayal, and loss. It also portrays the old man trying to live with his memories and come to terms with them.

The book is extremely powerful, epic, moving, and a humanistic plea. It deserves to be widely read, and I hope it will be translated into English one day.

• Dad says you were a soldier once. Were you with the ones that lost or won?
• We lost.
• That’s no fun then!

Friðbert turns on his side and towards the wall.

I put my hand on his shoulder. 

• Berti dear, we lost, but we still won.
• That’s not possible, and Berti shakes off the hand.
• Yes, it is possible. We did the right thing. That means everything. And if I could, I would do it again. 

–        Álfrún Gunnlaugsdóttir, Yfir Ebrofljótið. English translation: Einar Steinn Valgarðsson

Guðrún Helgadóttir

Guðrún Helgadóttir was one of Iceland’s most beloved and respected authors of children’s books. She left a lasting legacy with over two dozen publications during her lifetime. In addition to her literary achievements, she was deeply involved in politics. She served on the Reykjavik City Council from 1978 to 1982 as a representative of the People’s Alliance and as a member of parliament from 1979 to 1995, with a return in 1999. Notably, she became the first woman to hold the position of Speaker of Alþingi, serving from 1988 to 1991.

Her contributions to children’s literature earned her numerous awards and nominations, and an award was later established in her honour. A dedicated campaigner for social justice, particularly regarding the welfare and rights of children, her passion was strongly felt in her books. Her passing marked the end of a remarkable career, but her impact continues to resonate.

A Prolific Children’s Book Writer

Guðrún wrote for and about children with respect and understanding, never talking down to them, instead showing great empathy. She was great in entering and reflecting the child‘s point of view in her works. Often, it would show itself in a humourous misunderstanding between adults and children. Guðrún had a wonderful sense of humour. It also showcased a different way to view things, both encouraging deeper understanding for a child‘s view and plight in and of itself. It also broadened the horizons of adults by letting them view things from a fresh perspective. She was earnest in her writings. Her works display the author‘s strong sense of justice.

Perhaps Iceland‘s former president, Guðni Th. Jóhannesson put it best during an award ceremony for Guðrún when he said, „You are our Astrid Lindgren and Tove Jansson“. If you don‘t know Astrid and Tove, they are two of the most beloved Scandinavian children‘s books writers. Do yourself a favour and read their works. And if you have already read them, read them again.

Guðrún‘s books have been translated into Nordic languages and German, but only one of her books has been published in English. I want to recommend two of the former and one of the latter.

Sitji guðs englar; Saman í hring; Sænginni yfir minni

This trilogy is about a fisherman‘s family living in Iceland during the Second World War. It‘s a large family consisting of the fisherman, his wife, seven energetic children, a devout grandmother and a grandfather who always curses. The story is full of Guðrún’s trademark humour, and the story is engaging and educational, but there are also tragic elements. The reality of the war years is an underlying theme. Britain occupied Iceland during the war, and a year later, the American army took over. Soldiers were stationed here, and this was a strange new reality for children and adults alike. These books are often viewed by many as Guðrún‘s crowning achievement and have been published with wonderful illustrations by Sigrún Eldjárn. They have been translated into Faroese but have yet to be published in other languages.

Jón Oddur og Jón Bjarni (Jón Oddur and Jón Bjarni)

This was Guðrún‘s first book for children. Sequels would follow. The stories of these imaginative and intuitive twin boys are some of her most popular and have entertained children in Iceland for decades. Jón Oddur and Jón Bjarni may get up to things. They find themselves in situations which the grown-ups may not always appreciate. They may even tell a little white lie every now and then and be a bit cheeky. But at heart, they are good-hearted boys with a child‘s innocence.

They also have a strong sense of justice, as shown when they stick up for Selma, a little girl with Down syndrome. When the other kids are teasing, the boys get into a fight about it. The stories do not shy away from tackling difficult subjects, like the death of a young child, and explaining it to children as far as that is ever possible. Social issues are also explored. As always in her stories, Guðrún creates memorable and relatable characters. From the brothers to their teenage half-sister Anna Jóna, the maid Soffía, mom and dad, and their Grandma Dragon. She is so-called by the boys because she is an erind-reki (representative) for the state radio, dreki being the Icelandic word for dragon.

The books were made into a popular film by Þráinn Bertelsson in 1981. The books have been translated into the Nordic countries, Germany, and the Netherlands, but have not yet been published in English. Þráinn‘s film has been shown in film festivals abroad and remains a classic in Iceland, just like the books themselves.

Ástarsaga úr fjöllunum – A Giant Love Story 

The only one of Guðrún‘s books that has been translated into English, this is a delightful little tale. It is based on Icelandic folklore and gorgeously illustrated by Brian Pilkington, himself one of Iceland‘s most beloved illustrators. It is a tale of a troll mother of many troll kids, who falls in love with a male troll that is too lazy to visit her, so she takes on a long journey with her kids to seek him out. The risk, however, is that a troll will turn to stone in daylight. It‘s a story that is both sweet, engaging and funny, all trademarks of Guðrún‘s writing. You should be able to find this book in most bookstores in Iceland, so I urge everyone to check it out. It‘s a lovely tale that all ages should be able to enjoy.

We adults should teach the children to look at the flowers, the mountains, the land. Learning about these things gives one great happiness. We also need to open their minds to the environment, such as tending to how their mates are feeling. Jón Oddur and Jón Bjarni discovered somewhere in the book that it pays to be good. If children are open towards life, the land, the language, I think they will be very happy.

–        Guðrún Helgadóttir, interview in Stundin, 2018.

Sverrir Kristjánsson (1908-1976) & Tómas Guðmundsson (1901-1983)

Sverrir Kristjánsson was an Icelandic historian, translator and writer. He was renowned for being among the best prose writers of his time, writing numerous books about historical matters.

Tómas Guðmundsson was one of Iceland’s most beloved poets and also worked as a lawyer. 

Born in the countryside in South-East Iceland, he later moved to Reykjavík. Today, he is often called the City Poet, since he wrote many beautiful poems about the city in a romantic vein. You can find some of his poems in the poetry collection Icelandic Poetry, translated by Bernard Scudder and available in most bookstores in Iceland. Down by the Reykjavík city pond, you can find a statue of Tómas sitting on a bench. Two of his poems also decorate the windows of Reykjavík’s city hall. From the 1960s to 1970, Sverrir and Tómas collaborated on a series of popular chronicles called Íslenzkir örlagaþættir, published in 11 volumes.They are a wonderful read but have sadly never been translated, as far as I’ve gathered.

Íslenzkir örlagaþættir (Chronicles of Icelandic fate)

In these 11 books, Sverrir and Tómas offer chronicles and portraits from Icelandic history, sometimes major events and famous people, and often focus on obscure episodes. Ranging from 17th-century pastor and poet Hallgrímur Pétursson (Hallgrímskirkja’s named after him) to Algerian pirate raids, crime and punishment in Iceland, poets, outlaws, crimes of passion, tragic love tales, the Danish sailor and adventurer who became the surprise ruler of Iceland for one summer …. The list goes on, but what unites all of the chronicles is the writers’ excellent skill and the engaging reading that all these chronicles are.

They feature excellent portraits of individuals, convey the spirit of the age and offer great characterizations and imagery, rendering everything vividly. While basing their chronicles on available sources, the writers also employ their considerable poetic talents to bring their descriptions to life. It thus feels more like you are reading a really good novel but based on known facts. These are simply really good books and certainly among my favourites. A collection of Sverrir’s chronicles was published a few years back in Iceland and a collection of Tómas’s chronicles was published in Iceland in the 90’s. I hope that they will one day be translated into English. While translating 11 books may seem a daunting task, translating selected chronicles in a collection would be a great start.

The last week of July has arrived, the closing of parliament. Sheriffs and legislatives take their tents from their encampments and prepare for the journey home. Many have a long way ahead of them. They are travel-thirsty, as the season’s ripe for the cutting of grass, most of them are arduous farmers that had to run away from the hay to decree law and order in the country and punish offenders. Their horses long for home. The king’s sheriff rides out to Bessastaðir along with his lads and rides hard. Following him comes the king’s executioner on a lazy nag, his axe tied to the saddle. He has laboured much at this parliament and the rest is good for him and his axe. The parliament field Þingvellir is silent, when the voice of justice is not heard anymore. Only the waterfall sings its elegy  over those who went to Þingvöllur in the spring and never returned from there.

-Sverrir Kristjánsson, Alþingi í aldarspegli (Alþing in the century’s mirror). Published in Horfin tíð (Bygone Time), Íslenzkir örlagaþættir, vol. 4). English translation: Einar Steinn Valgarðsson

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