This is possibly the hardest entry in the A-Z of Iceland series. There are very few things in or about Iceland beginning with Y. There’s a river called Ytri-Rangá but I don’t know anything about it and there’s a beach called Ytri-Tunga but I don’t know anything about that either. There’s yoghurt, in which I could talk about skyr (which is actually a yoghurt-like cheese) but I didn’t think there was much in that either.
So Yrsa Sigurðardóttir. I’ve talked before about Icelandic literature. In X for Xmas I mentioned the Christmas book flood. So now I’m going to tell you about specific authors and books.
Yrsa is probably the best known of all Icelandic authors, by which I mean best known outside Iceland. She writes crime and some of what I’ve read is a little bit gruesome in places. I’ve definitely read Ashes to Dust, which is a murder mystery set amongst the results of the 1973 Eldfell eruption. I’ve also read Last Rituals, which features symbols and history and torture but I remember less about it.
Then there’s Arnaldur Indriðason. I’ve only read the first book, Mýrin. It means The Bog but somehow it translated into English as Jar City, although Wikipedia tells me the English paperback version was called Tainted Blood. Mine isn’t!. I wasn’t so keen on this one. Not the story – that’s fine, it’s all about DNA and Icelandic family history – but I didn’t enjoy the way it was written. Or possibly the way it was translated. It felt like too many short sentences in a row.
Ragnar Jónasson is next on my list. I’ve enjoyed his Dark Iceland series but I’m a little mystified as to how the English translation of the series ended up in a different order to the Icelandic version of the series. It’s crime again but it’s set in a little village on the north coast rather than in and around Reykjavik. No pictures here because I only have Kindle versions and they don’t photograph well.
Sarah Moss’s Names for the Sea isn’t technically Icelandic but it’s about the life of a Brit who moves to Iceland and her trials and tribulations of adjusting to a new culture. It’s not overly cheerful. I don’t get the impression she ever really learns to enjoy living in Iceland. But it does cover a lot of things you might not think of about moving to a new country.
Another one I’m not sure about is by Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir. This one is definitely Icelandic and the book is Butterflies in November and it’s fiction. It’s kind of road-trippy featuring a very extended bout of childminding but again, it’s kind of uncheerful. To be honest, I don’t plan to reread either of these books. Butterflies in November has a hint of Amélie about it, kind of whimsical but more forced whimsy and less joyful.
The sagas, obviously, are great. I recommended the Volsung Saga a couple of weeks ago. Egil’s saga and Njal’s saga are both big dramatic stories and some of the smaller ones are very readable.
I can’t not mention Halldór Laxness. He’s Iceland’s Nobel Prize winner, the only one so far but because Iceland has such a small population, he gives them a ludicrously high ratio of Nobel winners to normal people. I’ve not read any of his books yet but it would be remiss to skip him.
If you’re in Iceland, pop into Eyvindur, the bookshop you’ll find in the centre of most towns. By the door it’ll have a selection of souvenirs, among them a huge collection of Icelandic books translated into a good handful of languages, English predominant among them. Grab yourself a book, whichever catches your eye. Best souvenir you can bring back.