The Ritual Master Iceland… What does that mean to you ? When I say Iceland I see wild horses, moss and waterfalls, black rocks and boiling geezers. But recently, I added a new image, that of a very unique literature .
You will excuse me not pronouncing the name of this Icelandic author, she is much too talented and lovely for me to butcher her name (yes, I have heard it pronounced in Icelandic, no can do). She will forever hold a special place in my heart, since hers was the first novel I read from this far away and frozen island.
Butterflies in November is a journey of two unexpected companions across Iceland : a young woman whose husband just left her, and a little deaf boy. The circumstances that brought them together are not important. Their journey is that of self discovery and true companionship, of new paths and trust that comes only from real friendship.
I loved how simple the story seemed : they get in a car, buy a lottery ticket and start driving. There aren’t many language sparkles, at least in the English version, it all feels functional in a way, the message gets transmitted. And yet, something moved me. The story isn’t overly exciting, the language not extravagant, and still I got attached to the characters. I wanted them to win the lottery and I enjoyed their road trip as if I was in the car with them.
This first meeting with Icelandic writing gave me a feeling of wilderness, as if underneath an apparent simplicity, lies a deeper level of meaning. Appearances can be deceiving, we know that. But what happens when they seem tightly closed to the exterior ? How can you seize the more subtle frequencies that the human ear cannot perceive ? My conclusion was that this very search is the result of conditioning. So I dared let myself enjoy without searching for something more, the meaning was just that : the way I felt while reading was my going back to the wild. And from this little country, came a great reading experience.
The linguist in me cannot resist this delicious quote :
“No words can be categorical enough to exclude any possibility of misinterpretation.”
― Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir, Butterflies in November
Until tomorrow, enjoy the wilderness inside yourself !
