More Letters From Iceland

Letters from Iceland 1936, by Jean Young. Transcribed by Marion Agnes Harvey. University of Birmingham, 1992. 80 pgs.





Snapshots from a life: a lady scholar from England achieves her lifelong dream of visiting Iceland. We experience a summer of travel and hard manual labor first-hand, through her letters home. Just as we are getting to know her, she vanishes abruptly from our life, leaving us to wonder: was her boat home late? Did an Icelander accompany her home, to work in England? Did she ever return to Iceland? What were the basic facts of her life: when and where was she born, and when did she die; what were her successes in life, her significant relationships? I haven’t been able to answer most of these questions but--my wig!--it has been fun sharing these few months of 1936 with Jean Young.

Jean had an abiding interest in Iceland. Her post-graduate work dealt with Old Icelandic literature, and literary relations between Icelandic and Irish literature. Jean began to study Icelandic literature in 1921, but it wasn't until 1936 that she was finally able to visit Iceland in person. Her letters were published posthumously in 1992, and are readily available at  http://www.vsnrweb-publications.org.uk/Young_Letters.pdf, complete with her sketches and photographs.

W.H. Auden published a book with the same title, written in the same year, but much better known. In one section of Auden’s Letters from Iceland, he and co-author MacNeice present letters “written” by Hetty, girl scout leader extraordinaire. While Hetty is imaginary, she was likely based upon Jean Young. While in the Snaefellsness area, Jean spies the rucksack of "Auden the Oxford poet!”,  catches up with him, and discovers he's producing a book on Iceland-- little knowing it will feature a thinly disguised version of herself.

Jean's letters aren't written with the care and literary panache of Auden and MacNeice's contemporaneous accounts, but hers weren't intended for publication or a wider audience. They do convey a very personal response to Our Favorite Homeland, and are written in a conversational manner. Her account features lots of slang, which makes it seem as though she is talking to us ('em, 'tho, 'cept, summat). In one of her earliest letters she exclaims, "I feel in my bones I'm going to love Iceland just as much as I thought I should!" Followed in short order by, "Oh, my wig how I love Iceland!"

Jean faces the daunting challenge that many others have: "it is a damn hard language." She takes the option that Bill Holm, E. Paul Durrenberger and countless others have: she elects to work on a farm.  First she goes to Arkvorni,  then travels a bit through Iceland, and finally goes to another farm, Fljótshlíð (near Thorsmork), where she works for an entire month.

Jean’s farm labor includes darning, cooking for a large household, emptying chamber pots, cutting hay, and caring for children. Oh, and washing: "... then I took several pairs of heavy socks down to the stream to wash under the waterfall medieval fashion on a flat stone with a wooden clapper." The job benefits? Riding some of the finest horses in the area, learning Icelandic, and discovering  a great appreciation for simple food after 15-hour days of manual labor.  Typical meals consisted of cold porridge, salted fish, potatoes, pancakes, and always coffee with sweet cakes.

When she has a few brief minutes free from labor, she takes time to write letters and read. When Jean meets Icelanders, her standard is: have they read Laxness? She comes to understand Independent People  " ... from within as well as from outside ... which, if you read, take with much salt." She also comes to believe that many of the farm women she encounters are like Salka Valka, the heroine of another Laxness novel.

Some of my favorite quotes from Jean’s letters:

I foresee that the oilskins'l be useful.
Dolorite forms itself into octagonal columns here--and here only in the world apparently.
No railing to prevent folk from throwing themselves in [Gullfoss].
It's the space and silence that are so marvelous here.
The sanitary arrangements are good ... just the cow shed but here it's goats!
How I'd love to see the sun shine again!

When Jean finally returns to Reykjavik at the end of August, she goes shopping and forgets to take any money with her. She hasn’t used or thought about money in over a month.

I did learn that Jean returns to her studies in Great Britain and eventually becomes Dr. Jean Young, the author/translator of books in at least three languages. But alas, though she had hoped to meet Halldór Laxness and ask to translate one of his books into English, that never transpired. Nor could I learn if she ever returned to Iceland.

Letters From High Latitudes

Sailing Trilogy, Pt. 2

Letters from high latitudes, by Frederick Temple Hamilton-Temple-Blackwood, Marquis of Dufferin and Ava. Introduction by Her Excellency Vigdis Finnbogadottir. London: Merlin, 1989. First published in 1857. 228 pgs.

Why read a book written by an Irish Lord over 150 years ago?

-Dufferin was a literate Lord who was comfortable with princes as well as rowdy sailors. He made friends in a seemingly effortless fashion with Icelanders who didn’t speak English--and he didn’t speak Icelandic. They conversed in Latin, or sign language if necessary.

-He was a true Renaissance Man who wrote, danced, drew, sailed, and became a diplomat.

-This book is "specially recommended" by none other than W.H. Auden and Louis MacNeice of Letters From Iceland fame, written 80 years later!

-And, my personal favorite: Iceland called to him.

Here are the facts:

Who: Frederick Temple Hamilton-Temple-Blackwood, Marquis of Dufferin and Ava
What: sailed an 80-ton schooner 6,000 miles
When: 1856
Where: Scotland to Iceland to Jan Mayen to Norway to Spitzbergen to Scotland

Lord Dufferin purportedly wrote letters to his mother during this epic journey, and these letters form a sort of journal that is the book. This was possibly one of the earliest versions of a travelogue, and it started a fad for subsequent ones. Like most readers, I have read numerous travelogues, and this one is not only one of the earliest, it sets a standard that few have achieved. While not quite as wacky and sophisticated as Auden’s Letters from Iceland, this really is a terrific read, whether or not you are interested in sailing, history, or Iceland.

This is a tale of an intrepid adventurer, a man modest but mighty. He loved his Mum. He took danger as a matter of course in the pursuit of his hobby -- Extreme Exploration. His turns of phrase were as elegant as the clothes he wore.

Dufferin’s laconic writing style is perfect for describing such bigger-than-life experiences as camping in Iceland (complete with porters, servants, and cooks). Or, how about a party on board Napoloen III’s yacht, the Reine Hortense? This gala evening in Reykjavik Harbor featured not only fine dining, an excess of expensive alcohol, and an orchestra for dancing. No, a party on the Reine Hortense was a sort of Disneylandesque experience, complete with a theme, elaborate decorations, costumes, props, song and dance, and a gaily whimsical crew of partying sailors.

Dufferin sketches his fellow travelers, and people they met along the way. He describes his cook’s behavior during a trying time: the Foam was played pinball among icebergs, and all hands were on deck to fend them off. “I feel it just to pay a tribute of admiration to the cook, who on these occasions never failed to exhibit an immense amount of misdirected energy, breaking—I remember—at the same moment, both the cabin skylight, and an oar, in single combat with a large berg that was doing no particular harm to us, but against which he seemed suddenly to have conceived a violent spite.” Dufferin’s manservant, the melancholy Wilson, is described thus: “Life in his eyes is a perpetual filling of leaky buckets, and a rolling of stones up hill…He professes but a limited belief in his star, --and success with him is almost a disappointment.” Sigurdr, the Icelandic student of Law who was guide and friend, Mr. Ebenezer Wyse, the Sailing Master, Dr. Fitz and others all come to life in Dufferin’s letters.

Iceland is described with similar acuity: “I understood how natural it was that the Scandinavian mythology, of whose mysteries the Icelanders were ever the natural guardians and interpreters, should have assumed that broad, massive simplicity which is its most beautiful characteristic.”

I was delighted to discover that Dufferin played a part in the illustrations that grace the book. They are engravings, carefully and beautifully rendered. When I learned that he was the artist, I could hardly picture him out in the wilderness or on shipboard with his steel plates, tools, acid, and whatever else you use to prepare engravings. I have to conclude that he sketched the scenes, and someone else turned them into engravings. I’ve tried, but haven’t been able to find out for sure.

I am likewise frustrated by being unable to learn the length of Dufferin’s schooner. The Foam was an 80 ton vessel, and engravings of it appear in his book. It has two masts. But how long was it? I would like to know how it compared to the 33’ cutter that Rockwell Kent sailed to Greenland. My uneducated guess is around 60’. I also wonder if a movie has been made about Dufferin—and if not, why not. Can any of my readers help me out?

The Foam

While W.H. Auden’s Letters from Iceland doesn’t fit in with my sailing trilogy, it is an example of a superb travelogue—one of the best. As it happened, Dufferin missed the very part of Iceland that Auden covered in detail: the central highlands. Due to getting a late start because of difficulty acquiring a sailing master, and his goal of getting through the drift ice, Dufferin had to cut short some of his Iceland travel. Or perhaps it was because he spent too much time playing chess while camping, and waiting for Strokr and Geysir to erupt.

All was not fun and games…the Foam sailed through some extremely perilous waters, and Dufferin was not one to avoid danger when in pursuit of a remote island or exotic view, no matter how inaccessible it was due to glaciers and drift ice. But Dufferin’s modesty and equanimity are equaled only by his laconic, dry wit, and the book has a sophisticated, light feel to it. I loved this book! See if you do too.

My Own Father, and I quote:

Dear Daughter: So sorry you are going nuts in the head! Ann tells me this is a wonderful thing you are doing! She is going nuts in the head too! How does one post comments on the blog web? I would like to have what I say posted and not just directed to you alone. The Hawaiian music is just right for that cold, cold island. I hope this does not mean the whole world is going cold and crazy. Actually it is fun that you are getting so worked up over this trip. No other trip to anywhere with anyone that I know has ever shown such spirit. WAY TO GO!

FIF

Icelanders are very poetic, even evocative. In the Reykjavik Grapevine Paul Fontaine-Nikolov quotes his guide: "As the solar wind from the sun penetrates the earth’s magnetic belt, its light builds slowly, eventually reaching a climax that can fill the whole sky."

Of course, you must visit when the weather is cold and crisp in order to see the Aurora Borealis. That means, NOT SUMMER!

W.H. Auden: What's the Buzz?

Rating: 4 puffins

Letters from Iceland was published in 1937. Wystan Hugh Auden (age 29) and Louis Macneice alternate the composition of these "memoirs" of their trip. What better way to engage the reader's attention than to begin the book with a letter, in poetic form, to Lord Byron?

Excuse, my lord, the liberty I take
In thus addressing you. I know that you
Will pay the price of authorship and make
The allowances an author has to do.
A poet's fan-mail will be nothing new.

And,

I hope this reaches you in your abode,
This letter that's already far too long,
...As to its length, I tell myself you'll need it,
You've all eternity in which to read it.

My personal favorite: "Hetty to Nancy"-- a letter from an English gentlewoman in the wilds of Iceland, camping with Girl Guides and Formidable Women. This is a literary device that is effective and perfectly convincing. Macniece was the author, and he fooled me. It also serves to lessen the self-indulgence of the rest of the book.

Other features: price of tours, guides, food, rentals; quotes from other Icelandic travelers over the centuries; photographs; a dialogue with the ghost of Grettir; conversations with Icelanders; rummy, horseback riding, hiking and bus trips.

It is disturbing to read the numerous references to Nazi Germany. It gave me an eerie feeling of forbodeing to have the ability-- that Auden and Macniece lacked-- to foresee the future.

Opinionated, yes; occasionally tedious, yes ; compelling, funny, evocative: yes, yes, yes!

Why read Auden's Letters from Iceland?

"Having put up the tents we ate a large meal... smoked mutton. Smoked...you put your teeth in a hunk and then haul away the hunk in both fists."

"The people themselves are not nearly so foreign...You can't imagine any of them behaving like the people in the sagas, saying 'That was an ill word' and shooting the other man dead. Disappointing, still one needn't travel if one wants to see odd behaviour. You are wonderfully situated, of course, in Cambridge."

"all we could think of was getting somewhere else. But we didn't. We went on and on and the landscape remained the same. It was like walking the wrong way on a moving staircase."

"Finally the remoteness of Iceland, coupled with its literary and political history, make it a country which, if visited at all, is visited by people with strong, and usually romantic, preconceptions. Few...people take an interest in Iceland, but in these few the interest is passionate."

W.H. Auden Rocks! More reasons next time...

FIF (Fun Icelandic Fact)

Icelandic horses, which are of small stature but are not ponies, have a unique fifth gait called the tolt. It is smoother than a trot, so that the rider doesn't even need to post. It is so smooth that you could drink from a glass without spilling while riding (do you believe that? I'll let you know once I've tried it).