Carnage, Calm and Creativity

On a recent trip to the southern village of Vik, I stopped off at the saga centre in Hvolsvollur to escape the rain and fog that often afflicts this part of the country. The Icelandic sagas written in the 11th 12th and 13th centuries are possibly Iceland's most renowned contribution to world literature and recount in grisly detail the often-bloodthirsty feuds and conflicts of honour played out between rival regional leaders. These feuds, often running from generation to familial generation, were the principal method of conflict resolution in an era when federal system of law enforcement scarcely existed in Iceland.

Perhaps the most famous of these sagas was Njal's saga reputed to have taken place in Vik and the surrounding area. Browsing through the historical records, I couldn't help but be reminded of Orsen Welles and his disparaging remark about the Swiss cultural achievement. 800 years of peace, he contended, and all they ever produced was the cuckoo clock. While the anarchic society of early medieval Iceland and the stunning literature it produced is undoubtedly grist to the Wellesian mill, other periods of Icelandic history confound his theory of political and social unrest as a catalyst for creativity.

Take the twentieth century for example. Iceland gained a large measure of independence from their Danish overlords in 1918, declared a republic in 1944 and joined N.A.T.O. at the onset of the cold war. All of this was achieved without as much as a shot being fired in a period when independence movements from India to Ireland were marked by bloodshed and brutal civil wars. The closest Iceland came to violent unrest in recent decades were the cod wars with Britain which amounted to little more than aggressive rhetoric and the occasional volley of gun fire. In the same period Icelandic cultural achievement, for a nation of barely 300,000 souls, has been truly impressive.

The post war period produced a couple of the most prolific writers of the twentieth century, most famously Nobel prize winning novelist Halldor laxness, whose 1950s masterpiece Independent People is currently enjoying an international literary revival. This work and many others were translated into english by the masterful translator, Magnus Magnesson, whose legendary television quiz, Mastermind and immortal catch phrase "I've started so ill finish" made him Iceland's most famous export long before a certain young singer with eccentric dress sense came along.

Ever apart from Bjork's international reputation and those of bands such as Sigur Ros and Mum who followed in her wake, there must be more budding artists, musicians and writers per square metre in Iceland today than any nation state in the world.

So while Welles may well have made a valid point about turbulent history and national creativity, sometimes to thrive artistically all a nation needs is nothing more exciting than good old-fashioned peace and quiet.

John Boyce