Suchergebnisse

This article surveys the ouevre of the Icelandic writer Jakobína Sigurðardóttir (1918-1994) on the occasion of her centenary. Various aspects of her novels, short stories, poetry and memoirs are examined, including the ways in which she presents time in her texts – time as it pertains to individual life spans and the interaction of different generations, as well as time in the life of a nation which could be said to have switched abodes in the course of the 20th Century, moving from rural to urban settings, and during this time the island nation attained sovereignty and independence. narrative is a key element in treating time and historical shifts, and attention is paid to the ways in which Sigurðardóttir both renews realist traditions and resorts to more radical narrative forms, pulling the reader into an active dialogue on gender and generational issues, on social justice and equality, as well on the routes and conditions which connect and mould places of dwelling – individual houses as well as the abode of the nation.

Moonstone: The Boy Who Never Was (Mánasteinn: Drengurinn sem aldrei var til, 2013) by Sjón tells of three eventful months in the life of Máni Steinn in the fall of 1918. In this short period the volcano Katla erupts, the Spanish flu rages and Iceland regains its sovereignty from Denmark. Building on Judith Butler's, Mary Douglas's and Michel Foucault's theories regarding the body as a cultural construct, this article focuses on body discourse as presented in Moonstone. According to Douglas there is a direct link between boundaries of the body and boundaries of society. Everything that endangers the stability of society's boundaries is considered social pollution. Foucault's theory on panopticism likewise identifies surveillance and discipline of citizens' bodies as means of maintaining society's social structure. Because Máni Steinn is queer, his body is considered abnormal according to the period's definitions on what constitutes a healthy and stable body. Aberrations from the "healthy", heterosexual body creates divergence within society's fabric. To regain the appearance of a "pure" society Máni needs to be hidden or banished from it. Yet the arrival of the Spanish flu to Reykjavík deconstructs conventional definition of the body and unravels the social hierarchy. The distinction between the healthy and the infected is obliterated, as the body becomes a site where irreconcilable opposites merge. During the turmoil of the Spanish flu boundaries of the body become as unstable as society's boundaries become fluent.

Kosningaréttur er grundvallarréttur þegna í lýðræðisríkjum og þátttaka í kosningum álitin ein af mikilvægustu athöfnum borgaranna. Þó að þessi réttindi skuli tryggð öllum þegnum sýna alþjóðlegar rannsóknir að fatlað fólk er víða útilokað frá þátttöku í kosningum. Fatlað fólk er síður líklegt til að kjósa en ófatlað fólk og mætir iðulega ýmsum hindrunum ef það reynir að taka þátt í kosningum. Þessi grein fjallar um kosningaþátttöku fatlaðs fólks með hliðsjón af niðurstöðum alþjóðlegra rannsókna. Í upphafi eru raktar helstu hindranir í vegi kosningaþátttöku fatlaðs fólks og leitast við að svara hvaða áhrif þessar hindranir hafi, ekki aðeins fyrir fatlaða borgara, heldur jafnframt hvað það þýði fyrir heilbrigði lýðræðis og lýðræðislegra stofnana þegar hluti þegnanna mætir alvarlegum hindrunum varðandi borgaraleg grundvallarréttindi. Íslenskar rannsóknir á þessu sviði eru ekki fyrir hendi og engin skipuleg tölfræðileg gögn eru til varðandi þátttöku fatlaðs fólks í kosningum eða stjórnmálum hér á landi. Byggt á gögnum sem aflað var hjá tveimur fjölmennustu heildarsamtökum fatlaðs fólks hér á landi er rýnt í reynslu, aðstæður og möguleika fatlaðs fólks til þátttöku í kosningum á Íslandi, lagasetningar þar að lútandi og skyldur ríkisins til að stuðla að og tryggja þátttöku fatlaðs fólks í stjórnmálum og opinberu lífi, ekki síst í ljósi þess að Samningur Sameinuðu þjóðanna (SÞ) um réttindi fatlaðs fólks (SRFF) hefur verið fullgiltur hér á landi ; The right to vote is a fundamental right of citizenship in democratic nations, and participation in elections in one of the most important acts undertaken by citizens. Although these rights are guaranteed to all citizens, international research shows that disabled people are widely excluded from participation in elections. Disabled people are less likely to vote than non-disabled people and often encounter various obstacles when they try to participate in elections. This article discusses the voting participation of disabled people in consideration of the international research. The main barriers that disabled people encounter in the voting process will first be outlined. This will be followed by questions concerning the effects these obstacles produce, not only for disabled citizens, but what this means overall for the health of democracy and democratic institutions when a portion of the citizenry encounter serious obstacles concerning their basic civil rights. Icelandic research in this field is extremely limited and no systematic statistical data exists on the participation of disabled people in elections, or politics in general, in this country. Based on data drawn from sources from two of the largest disabled people's organization in the country, the focus here is on the experiences, circumstances and opportunities for disabled people to participate in elections in the country. The findings draw attention to the obligations of the state to promote and ensure the participation of disabled people in politics and public life in light of the recent ratification in Iceland of the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (CRPD) ; Peer Reviewed

The regulation of film exhibition in Iceland has closely shadowed the history of cinema exhibition itself. Although regulation practices have undergone various shifts and realignments throughout the twentieth century, they retained certain core concerns and a basic ideological imperative having to do with child protection and child welfare. Movies were thought to have a disproportionate impact on children, with "impressionable minds" often being invoked. Their interior lives and successful journey towards maturity were put at risk each and every time they encountered unsuitable filmic materials. Thus, while assuming that adults could fend for them-selves among the limited number of theaters in Reykjavík, children were a whole another matter and required protection. Civic bodies were consequently formed and empowered to evaluate and regulate films. But even in the context of fairly rigorous surveillance and codification, the turn taken by regulatory authorities in the 1980s strikes one as exceptional and unprecedented. The Film Certification Board (TFCB) was, for the first time, authorized to prohibit and suppress from distribution films deemed especially malignant and harmful. Motivating this vast expansion of the powers of the regulatory body were concerns about a variety of exploitation and horror films that were being distributed on video, films that were thought to transgress so erroneously in terms of on-screen violence that their mere existence posed a grave threat to children. Two years after finding its role so radical-ly enlarged, TFCB put together a list of 67 "video-nasties", to borrow a term from the very similar but later moral panic that occurred in Britain. Police raids were conducted and every video store in the country was visited in a nation-wide effort to remove the now illegal films from rental stores. This article posits that the icelandic nasties list can be viewed as something of a unique testament to the extent to which the meaning, aesthetic coherence and the affect of cultural objects is constructed in the process of reception, while also main-taining that the process of reception is thoroughly shaped by historical discourses, social class, embedded moral codes and a social system of values, as well as techno-logical progress. in what amounts to a perfect storm of moralizing, political games-manship and the sheer panic of a certain segment of the population, the governing institutions in iceland managed in the span of months to overturn constitutionally protected rights to free speech and privacy, as well as undermine central principles of the republic. Two decades would pass before these setbacks were recuperated, and then only on a legal and institutional level. While analyzing the history of the icelandic video nasties, the article also attempts to grapple with and articulate the symbolic register of the ban, how it speaks to the status of cinema in Iceland at the close of the twentieth century, and what ideological strains, morals and/or values were being put into play and funneled into this particular debate. Then, to close, the role of the most notorious of the nasties, Cannibal Holocaust (Ruggero Deodato, 1980), is examined in the context of media coverage and parliamentary debates at the time.