This article offers a discussion of two contemporary Icelandic literary works, Woman at 1000 Degreesby Hallgrímur Helgason and The Outlaw by Jón Gnarr, both of which have been subject to discussion and critique regarding the authors' use of real life individuals and events. The reception of these texts is read against the framework of Icelandic laws regarding freedom of expression and rights to privacy. Two Icelandic legal cases, regarding a literary text and cinematic production, serve as case studies for the Icelandic framework.
The article recounts the account from the Árna saga about Loftur Helgason's trip to Bergen in 1282 and his stay there over winter, explained in terms of the formal sources about the organization of the government and changes in the law in the latter half of the 13th century. These changes were aimed at introducing into Iceland the power of both the King and the Church and in fact marked the actual changes throughout the Norwegian state. Loftur was Skálholt's official and the story about him was part of a long-standing dispute about the position of the chieftains versus the new power of the Church and the opposition to its introduction. The article defines the political confusion described in the Árna sagain Bergen in the winter of 1282-1283 as, on the one hand, changes in the constitution and, on the other hand, legislation, and at the same time whether the Kings Hákon Hákonarson and his son Magnús had systematically pursued a policy of having the Church be an independent party to the government of the state from 1247 onward until the death of the latter in 1280. When the disagreement is looked at as continuing, it is seen that Icelanders had made preparations for changes in the constitution with assurances of introduction of the power of the Church beginning in 1253 and the power of the King from 1262, but, on the other hand, the disagreements in both countries disappeared in the 1270s in the face of the conflict of interests that resulted from the laws that followed in the wake of the constiututional changes. Árna saga tell of this and how the disputes were described, but also that their nature changed as King Erikur came to power in 1280, as he gave the power of the King a new policy that was aimed against the power of the Church. Ousting of the archbishop from Norway and the Christian funerals of the excommunicated chieftains are examples of the conditions of government that could not have been, if the King had no longer had executive power over Christian concerns, as he had already conceded power over spiritual issues to the Pope in Rome with the Settlement at Túnsberg in 1277.
In the past months and years women have been raising awareness against rape and other sexual violence. The aim of the research discussed in this article is to shed a light on rape culture in Iceland, especially what ideas are prevailing among young people about rape, survivors and perpetrators. Moreover, the aim is to shed a light on the impact of these ideas on rape survivors. The study draws on focus group interviews with university students and semi-structured interviews with a university student, rape survivors and an expert who works closely with survivors. The findings highlight rape culture in Iceland and how rape and other sexual violence is normal-ized. Predominant discourses and myths tend to question the rape, portray survivors as responsible for the rape and find ways to extenuate perpetrators.
This essay concerns itself with perceptions of the urban sphere, with its manifestations in literature and life writing, and with the city as a place of strangeness and travel in various senses, including the ways in which it pertains to the individual world view. Cities are places of density and internal connections, but their gates also open out and connect with other places, and increasingly other cities. Following a discussion of the Icelandic links between Copenhagen and Reykjavík, and the slow emergence of the latter as a "literary capital", the course is set for foreign cities, including Berlin and Paris in the company of Walter Benjamin, and the experience of getting lost with Franz Kafka in places that may be Prague and New York. In attempting to answer the question whether it is possible to become intimate with cities, we have recourse to city guides, life maps, a touring theatre – and the art of losing and finding.
Alda Björk Valdimarsdóttir's book of poetry, We Who Are Blind and Nameless, was published in 2015. The first part of the book, titled "The course of signs", lays the groundwork for the conceptual basis of the work through five poems. These five poems will be examined through close reading and scholarly materials from various sources, such as cognitive literary studies, philosophy, psychology, social studies and neurological research. There is particular focus on how the poems stimulate the imagination of readers and ruffle their feelings; there is a discussion on (conceptual) metaphors, irony, humor, paradox, geometrical shapes, enumeration, anaphora and, not least, silence which is a common theme in Alda's poetry and also defines the structure of her poems in various ways. This analysis shows how Alda convinces readers to think about the "course of signs" in both a narrow and wider context. She not only causes readers to think about the paradoxical interplay of silence and signs – and thus man's ingrained need to both speak and be silent – but also woman's position within her family/world history and the encroachment of man upon his own environment. Through clever humour and irony, Alda Björk shows how apathetic people often are when faced with signs; how without thinking they give themselves over to them, even though they have other options; how people contribute for the signs to be isolating instead of connecting us with each other – and how they misuse silence or are not able to make use of it.
The aim of this article is to discuss the book Dísusaga by Vigdís Grímsdóttir. In the story, which has been categorized as a fictional autobiography, Vigdís writes about a rape she experienced as a child, focusing on the crime ́s effect. She talks about her decision to keep silent about the crime, which leads to – as described in Dísusaga– her being split into two personas, Dísa and Gríms. This article focuses on the communication between the two characters, in particular their power struggle. The analysis that is put forth is based on methods from theories about trauma, dialogical self and conceptual metaphors. In this article different attitudes toward sexual violence in different times is also addressed by looking at the reception of other works by Vigdís, which have been connected to her persona.
The paper analyzes the rulings of the Supreme Court of iceland in rape cases after changes in the penal code in 1992 and 2007. The study employs discourse analysis in which legitimizing principles are identified. The aim of the paper is to explore whether victim blaming, misogyny or other such attitudes are reflected in the rulings. The paper concludes that the rulings' focus is mainly on physical abuse and violence although less emphasis is put on that after the changes in the penal code. Mental harm caused by rape is often given little attention or even completely ignored. One main conclusion is that rape myths are reflected in the rulings and victim blaming is common although it is decreasing. it is also apparent that the emphasis on victim blaming diminishes if the perpetrator is of foreign origin.
n 2017 the 500th anniversary of the Lutheran Reformation was celebrated. Then there was a huge discussion about the impact of the Reformation on church, culture and society. In this article and in a second one that follows, this question will be raised, especially in Icelandic context.Here it is assumed that it is only possible to state that a change has occurred or a novelty has arised because of Lutheran influence if it can be demonstrated that the Reformation is a necessary prerequisite for the change / innovation being discussed. Here it is particularly pointed out that various changes that until now have been traced to the Reformation can have been due to the development of the central-con-trolled state power. It is also pointed out that, due to the small population, rural areas and simple social structure, various changes that occurred in urban areas did not succeed in Iceland until long after the Reformation. Such cases are interpret-ed as delayed Lutheran effects. Then, in Iceland, many changes, which were well matched to the core areas of the Reformation, did not work until the 18th century and then because of the pietism. Such cases are interpreted as derivative Lutheran effects.In Iceland two generalizations have been evident in the debate on the influence of the Lutheran Reformation. The first one emphasizes an extensive and radical changes in many areas in the Reformation period and subsequent extensive decline. It is also stated that this regression can be traced directly to the Reformation and not to other fenomenons, e.g. the development of modern, centralized state. The other one states that the Reformation was most powerful in the modernization in both the church and society in Iceland.This article focuses on the influence of the Reformation on religious and church life. Despite the fact that the Reformation has certainly had the broadest and most direct effects on this field, it is noteworthy that the church organization itself was only scarsely affected by the Reformation. After the Reformation the Icelandic church was for example almost as clergy-orientaded as in the middle Ages.
This article discusses the "Critical period" in language acquisition – based on the theory that children are born with the natural ability to learn language; an ability that gradually fades or disappears. According to this theory, children who are not privy to normal language stimulation during childhood miss their chance to acquire a language "perfectly".Critical periods do not only exist in language, e.g. children and other young animals need to receive visual stimulation for their vision to develop. The beginning of this article considers difference in opportunities for research, and thereby the state of knowledge concerning the critical period in vision, compared to language acquisition. The difference is based mainly on two factors: on the one hand, animals have been studied to elucidate the critical period in vision – an option that linguists do not have – and, on the other, it is quite common for children to lack visual stimulation, i.e. due to cataracts. It is less common for children to grow up without language stimulation, although stories exist of children that, for one reason or another, were deprived of human interaction during childhood. The author uses this opportunity to provide an account of two such stories, in a more detailed fashion than would be necessary to define the critical period in language acquisition. These are also stories of violence and questionable work methods for the sake of science. This is followed by a discussion of deaf children as, in the past – as well as the present day – it was common for them not to receive appropriate language stimulation from the beginning, i.e. via the use of sign language. The examples are so many that late language acquisition by deaf children can shed light on the critical period in language acquisition.Many have discussed the critical period in language acquisition but emphasis is often placed on that which has remained unlearned. This article asks rather what can be learned and whether language structure can be established despite a late start for the language acquisition process.
In 2017 the 500th anniversary of the Lutheran Reformation was celebrated. Then there was a huge discussion about the impact of the Reformation on church, culture and society. In this article and in an another one published in last number of this journal, this question will be raised, especially in Icelandic context. Here it is assumed that it is only possible to state that a change has occurred or a novelty has arised because of Lutheran influence if it can be demonstrated that the Reformation is a necessary prerequisite for the change / innovation being discussed. Here it is particularly pointed out that various changes that until now have been traced to the Reformation can have been due to the development of the central-controlled state power. It is also pointed out that, due to the small population, rural areas and simple social structure, various changes that occurred in urban areas did not succeed in Iceland until long after the Reformation. Such cases are interpreted as delayed Lutheran effects. Then, in Iceland, many changes, which were well matched to the core areas of the Reformation, did not work until the 18th century and then because of the pietism. Such cases are interpreted as derivative Lutheran effects.In Iceland two generalizations have been evident in the debate on the influence of the Lutheran Reformation. The first one emphasizes extensive and radical changes in many areas in the Reformation period and subsequent extensive decline. It is also stated that this regression can be traced directly to the Reformation and not to other fenomenons, e.g. the development of modern, centralized state. The other one states that the Reformation was most powerful in the modernization in both the church and society in Iceland.This article focuses on the influence of the Reformation in the field of culture and society. These include e.g. the closure of monasteries and the consequences of it in the field of welfare, which have been widely discussed in recent times.The final conclusion of these two articles is that the main influence of the Reformation is found in the field of faith itself, and that the Reformation made it easier for the Lutheran Church than the two traditional denominations, the Roman Catholic Church and that Orthodox one, to meet the modernization in culture and society.
This paper discusses the history of the nouns gleðimaður, which is known from Old as well as Modern icelandic, and gleðikona which first occurs in an 18th-century source. Other nominal compounds for men and women that have gleði- as their first member are also introduced. The meaning of these words is compared, as is their usage, in order to test the claim that the words for men normally have a neutral meaning ('cheerful man, party animal') but the words for women have a pejorative meaning ('hussy, prostitute'). The nature of the changes in the history of the gleði-compounds is also discussed, e.g., to what extent borrowing from a foreign language has taken place. Lars-Gunnar Andersson's categorization of the so-called "ugliness" of words is used for a more detailed definition of the semantic changes. Finally, we touch on the wish to reclaim the word gleðikona that has been observed in the last decades, i.e., to revive the practically forgotten meaning 'cheerful woman, female party animal'.
This article presents findings from two qualitative research studies on readers' emotional reactions and empathy towards literary texts. Participants were presented with two fragments from novels by Vigdís Grímsdóttir and then asked about their reactions. In the first study, 20 participants were asked to read a fragment from the novel Þögnin(2000) and half of the participants had some kind of a musical education and the other half with no background in music. Interestingly, having a musical background impacted reactions differently than what was expected. As a result, a second study was carried out where the reactions of visual artists (10) were compared to non-artists (10) to a fragment from the novel Þegar stjarna hrapar (2003). Both novels contain information specific to music (Þögnin) or visual arts (Þegar stjarna hrapar). Cognitive science methods, such as the schema theory, will be used to explain how readers of diverse backgrounds react differently to the same text. This approach also illustrates how useful qualitative methods can be in studying topics beyond only the content of the text.
The ambiguity between reality and fiction haunts Einar Már Guðmundsson's novel Hundadagar (Dog Days, 2015), as it is a fictional narrative about factual, historical figures and events, such as Jörgen Jörgensen, Rev. Jón Steingrímsson, Finnur Magnússon and Guðrún Johnsen, while the same can be said about many other novels labeled as postmodernism. Canadian literary scholar Linda Hutcheon coined the concept of historiographic metafiction to describe fictions as such, which are "intensely self-reflexive", while "paradoxically lay claim to historical events and personages". Hutcheon suggests that historiographic metafictions fully illuminate the very way in which postmodernism entangles itself with both the epistemological and ontological status of history. This paper begins with an introduction to Hutcheon's theoretical contributions on postmodernism, postmodern literature and the relationship between history and fiction, followed by a reading of Hundadagar as a historiographic metafiction. The narrator's strategies—such as parataxis, metanarrative comments, we-narrative discourse and documentary intertext—largely indicate an imitation, a revelation, or say, a parody of the process of historian's writings. The paper further suggests that it is the Icelandic financial crisis in 2008 that prompts the narrator to revisit the 18. and 19. century, since the financial crisis takes the role of a rupture of the Enlightenment ideals, leading to disorder and chaos. Moreover, the narrator finds an uncanny similarity between the past and the present, as if the history has been repeating itself. The spectre of history keeps (re)appearing in a deferred temporality. While revisiting the past, the narrator also (re)visits the present in an allegorical way. In a word, as a historiographic metafiction, Einar Már Guðmundsson's Hundadagar is "fundamentally contradictory, resolutely historical, and inescapably political", just as Hutcheon's perception of postmodernism.
This essay offers a succinct but comprehensive overview of Icelandic cinema from its early 20th-century emergence to the present day. Split into two parts, the first half focusses on filmmaking in Iceland prior to the founding of the Icelandic Film Fund in 1978, which was to establish a continuous local film production for the first time. Prior to that filmmaking in Iceland boiled down to the occasional efforts of local amateurs, albeit often quite skilled ones, and professional filmmakers visiting from abroad. Indeed, the few silent feature films made in the country all stemmed from foreign filmmakers adapting Icelandic literature and taking advantage of its photogenic landscapes. The first Icelandic feature was not made until 1948 and although immensely popular, like those that followed in its wake, the national audience was simply too small to sustain filmmaking without financial support. Although this changed fundamentally with the Icelandic Film Fund, which instigated contemporary Icelandic cinema and the subject of the essay's second half, the Fund's support proved insufficient as the novelty of Icelandic cinema began to wear off at the local box office in the late 1980s. The rescue came from outside sources, in the form of nordic and European film funds, whose support was to transnationalize Icelandic cinema in terms of not only financing and production but also themes and subject material. These changes are most apparent in Icelandic cinema of the 1990s which also began to garner interest at the international film festival circuit. In the first decade of the twenty first century, however, American genre cinema began to replace the European art film as the typical model for Icelandic filmmakers. Hollywood itself also began to show extensive interest in Icelandic landscapes for its runaway productions, as did many other foreign film crews. In this way Icelandic cinema is increasingly characterized by not only national and transnational elements but also international ones.
This article deals with the authorship of Elísabet Kristín Jökulsdóttir, with special emphasis on the autofictional novel Heilræði lásasmiðsins (The locksmith's advice), as well as other works that are based on autobiographical material. Elísabet writes a lot about the female body, its desires and erotic longings, as well as how helpless and weak it can be in particular situations. Her writing on the self, body and sexuality centres on the opposition between love and rejection. The desire for love is the driving force behind her writing and a deep and ruthless self-examination is at work in her fictional world. This desire is closely connected to the female body and sexual drive and Elísabet scrutinizes the nature of 'femininity' and asks what it means to be ,a woman'. Elísabet describes the female body in all its nakedness and vulnerability and shows how the body is the battleground where the main conflicts between self and others take place. Elísabet frequently describes two oppositional worlds in her works. There are conflicts between the magical world and reality, the father and the mother, the child and the grown-up, psychological difficulties and 'sanity'. a divided self is a persistent theme in her writings, as well as the struggle to remain on the right side of the "borders", which are frequently mentioned. Elísabet's writings reveal a struggle for marking a place for oneself in the world, to be heard and seen, to be able to createand recreate the self and through her writing, she copes with existence and difficulties that are rooted in childhood. Through writing, she finds a way out and the writing process serves as self-analysis and therapy. In her works Elísabet also creates her own personal mythology, which she connects with women's struggle for self-realization, freedom and social space. The analysis of Elísabet's works is inspired by the writings of feminist scholars, such as Simone de Beauvoir, Kate millett and Hélène Cixous.
