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De gelukkige krijgers
In het IJsland van de elfde eeuw is het christendom de officiële godsdienst, maar bezingen de dichters nog de oude goden en de bloeddorstige heldendaden van de Vikingen. Dichter Thormod Bessason en krijger Thorgeir Havarsson worden bloedbroeders en besluiten de wereld in te trekken in de geest van hun vaders en voorvaderen. Halldór Laxness schreef met behulp van oude IJslandse teksten deze schitterende roman over de bloeddorstigheid van de mens en het nastreven van roem. Het is een van de belangrijkste werken van Nobelprijswinnaar Laxness.
411 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1952
About the author
Halldór Laxness
164 books704 followersBorn Halldór Guðjónsson, he adopted the surname Laxness in honour of Laxnes in Mosfellssveit where he grew up, his family having moved from Reyjavík in 1905. He published his first novel at the age of only 17, the beginning of a long literary career of more than 60 books, including novels, short stories, poetry, and plays. Confirmed a Catholic in 1923, he later moved away from religion and for a long time was sympathetic to Communist politics, which is evident in his novels World Light and Independent People. In 1955 he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature.
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August 21, 2016
'Wayward Heroes' by Halldór Laxness
4.5 stars/ 9 out of 10
I was interested in reading "Wayward Heroes", because I have spent time in Iceland, and also have read and enjoyed Independent People by the same author.
This is a new translation, direct from Icelandic, by Phillip Roughton, (an earlier English translation by a different translator having been from a Swedish translation), to be published in October 2016.
I thought the translation was excellent. The descriptions were vivid, and used colloquial language where appropriate. The character and place names were given in the Icelandic alphabet; once I had checked out how to pronounce these, they felt completely natural to me.
This story of the exploits of Þorgeir and Þormóður, sworn brothers, inspired by old Icelandic Sagas, was adventurous, humorous and moving. I liked that Laxness had adopted a tragicomical approach to them. The two men seemed very true to life. The other characters in the novel were also well rounded. I liked how several of the women were such strong characters.
I found "Independent People" very good, but also almost unremittingly gloomy, so it was a pleasant surprise to find humour in "Wayward Heroes ". At times it seemed like a cross between Don Quixote and Jason and the Argonauts.
I am really pleased that I read this translation of "Wayward Heroes", and will definitely read further works by Halldór Laxness.
Thank you to Archipelago and to NetGalley for an ARC.
4.5 stars/ 9 out of 10
I was interested in reading "Wayward Heroes", because I have spent time in Iceland, and also have read and enjoyed Independent People by the same author.
This is a new translation, direct from Icelandic, by Phillip Roughton, (an earlier English translation by a different translator having been from a Swedish translation), to be published in October 2016.
I thought the translation was excellent. The descriptions were vivid, and used colloquial language where appropriate. The character and place names were given in the Icelandic alphabet; once I had checked out how to pronounce these, they felt completely natural to me.
This story of the exploits of Þorgeir and Þormóður, sworn brothers, inspired by old Icelandic Sagas, was adventurous, humorous and moving. I liked that Laxness had adopted a tragicomical approach to them. The two men seemed very true to life. The other characters in the novel were also well rounded. I liked how several of the women were such strong characters.
I found "Independent People" very good, but also almost unremittingly gloomy, so it was a pleasant surprise to find humour in "Wayward Heroes ". At times it seemed like a cross between Don Quixote and Jason and the Argonauts.
I am really pleased that I read this translation of "Wayward Heroes", and will definitely read further works by Halldór Laxness.
Thank you to Archipelago and to NetGalley for an ARC.
January 2, 2017
Once again unintentional serendipitous simultaneous reading leads to a dual review: of Halldór Laxness’s Wayward Heroes (translated by Philip Roughton) and Outlaws of the Marsh by Shi Nai’an and Luo Guanzhong, translated by Sidney Shapiro https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/7.... (I am given to understand that there is no adequate English translation of The Outlaws of the Marsh, but it’s on Philip Ward’s Lifetime Reading list, and this abridged version was the best I could do. And, in fact, I read in another GR review that the Heroes translation is actually from the Swedish translation because the ‘medieval’ Icelandic that Laxness invented for his original version is very difficult.)
While both are about mythic violence and outlawry, Outlaws is of its time, collected folk tales of bandit heroes in China during the reign of Hui Zong ( reigned 1101 to 1125). Heroes is Laxness’s 1950s anti-glorification of Viking thugs is set a little earlier; the action takes place before, during and somewhat after the reign of Olaf Haraldsson in Norway (lived 995-1030). It is loosely based on actual sagas, however.
I enjoyed both books, and would have individually, but the contrast of bouncing them off each other as I read added immensely to my perceptions of each one. Both are about the brotherhood that is sworn among men seeking fortune and glory. But in Heroes the tight brotherhood is among two men only, with the other Viking players fluid and much less (if at all) loyal to each other. In fact, both Nordic and Christian leaders and warriors change sides on an almost daily basis, depending on who looks to be ahead at the moment. The core outlaw band in Outlaws is much more cohesive, and grows day by day as those in the system (government or family dynasty) abandon the establishment and join the outlaws (granted, often because they’ve been kidnapped and see no other option now that their public image has been compromised). Another variation is in the attitude toward glory. In the Saga, it’s about individual glory: being the best even if it’s attained by subterfuge. The Chinese outlaws, however, keep a traditional attitude of group glory, meticulously deferring to each other when it comes to seating location and who is chosen as leader.
Violence is at the heart of both books. For a few key characters, violence is what they are to the core. Li Kui and orgeir are exemplars of blood lust. But neither world hesitates to slash, burn and loot. The beheadings are beyond numbering. In their own self-story, the Chinese outlaws long to be forgiven and turn to defending the state and emperor again. But none of them are really political outlaws; they broke the law in anything from relatively minor ways to outright blind rage killing. The Vikings, on the other hand, are on the cusp of changing times in their own land. French and Swedish kings are happy to use them as (very dumb) mercenaries, but in Iceland prosperous, wiser chieftains tell them to stay at home and tend to their lands. Hard to know whether this is accurate, but Laxness is not really carrying on the saga tradition; he is gutting it to show violence for the violence it is, no romance about it. Other reviews cite Heroes as Laxness on the stupidity of the Cold War. It could certainly be about the stupidity and inhumanity of any violent culture or attitude today.
I should mention one other common feature of the books. They are both quite funny. Outlaws offers slapstick, trickery, and banter. Laxness laces almost every scene with a caustic but comic sarcasm about the contrast between the romantic aura of the sagas and the actual filth, thuggery, stupidity, lust, rapine, discomfort, ineptness, prehensile technology, ugliness, disloyalty, and suffering of Viking life.
To me the main value of Outlaws is as a classic of Chinese literature and to catch the references to it in subsequent Asian literature and film. For example, it includes the genesis of the Chin P’ing Mei (Plum in the Golden Vase). Laxness, however, is a work of art. While the subject is violence, the book is as much about the relations between men and women and the role of the artist. For one of the sworn brothers is a skald, whose role is not so much to do battle as to glorify in epic poetry the brother who fights to best all others, no matter how vile his actions or his ‘cause’. Yet another skald wanders through events baldly revising history to portray ignominy as victory in order to enhance a king; he is ever-prepared to abandon a fading king to join an up and coming man with plunder to share. Rather like the main character in Saramago’s History of the Siege of Lisbon, we are left to wonder what really happened at events we know only from ancient tales, and to ask whether we judge an artist by his truth or by his ‘art’.
In sum, both worth reading for understanding where these cultures have been, where they went, and how we haven’t really escaped these times. Laxness in particular is a beautiful work of art.
While both are about mythic violence and outlawry, Outlaws is of its time, collected folk tales of bandit heroes in China during the reign of Hui Zong ( reigned 1101 to 1125). Heroes is Laxness’s 1950s anti-glorification of Viking thugs is set a little earlier; the action takes place before, during and somewhat after the reign of Olaf Haraldsson in Norway (lived 995-1030). It is loosely based on actual sagas, however.
I enjoyed both books, and would have individually, but the contrast of bouncing them off each other as I read added immensely to my perceptions of each one. Both are about the brotherhood that is sworn among men seeking fortune and glory. But in Heroes the tight brotherhood is among two men only, with the other Viking players fluid and much less (if at all) loyal to each other. In fact, both Nordic and Christian leaders and warriors change sides on an almost daily basis, depending on who looks to be ahead at the moment. The core outlaw band in Outlaws is much more cohesive, and grows day by day as those in the system (government or family dynasty) abandon the establishment and join the outlaws (granted, often because they’ve been kidnapped and see no other option now that their public image has been compromised). Another variation is in the attitude toward glory. In the Saga, it’s about individual glory: being the best even if it’s attained by subterfuge. The Chinese outlaws, however, keep a traditional attitude of group glory, meticulously deferring to each other when it comes to seating location and who is chosen as leader.
Violence is at the heart of both books. For a few key characters, violence is what they are to the core. Li Kui and orgeir are exemplars of blood lust. But neither world hesitates to slash, burn and loot. The beheadings are beyond numbering. In their own self-story, the Chinese outlaws long to be forgiven and turn to defending the state and emperor again. But none of them are really political outlaws; they broke the law in anything from relatively minor ways to outright blind rage killing. The Vikings, on the other hand, are on the cusp of changing times in their own land. French and Swedish kings are happy to use them as (very dumb) mercenaries, but in Iceland prosperous, wiser chieftains tell them to stay at home and tend to their lands. Hard to know whether this is accurate, but Laxness is not really carrying on the saga tradition; he is gutting it to show violence for the violence it is, no romance about it. Other reviews cite Heroes as Laxness on the stupidity of the Cold War. It could certainly be about the stupidity and inhumanity of any violent culture or attitude today.
I should mention one other common feature of the books. They are both quite funny. Outlaws offers slapstick, trickery, and banter. Laxness laces almost every scene with a caustic but comic sarcasm about the contrast between the romantic aura of the sagas and the actual filth, thuggery, stupidity, lust, rapine, discomfort, ineptness, prehensile technology, ugliness, disloyalty, and suffering of Viking life.
To me the main value of Outlaws is as a classic of Chinese literature and to catch the references to it in subsequent Asian literature and film. For example, it includes the genesis of the Chin P’ing Mei (Plum in the Golden Vase). Laxness, however, is a work of art. While the subject is violence, the book is as much about the relations between men and women and the role of the artist. For one of the sworn brothers is a skald, whose role is not so much to do battle as to glorify in epic poetry the brother who fights to best all others, no matter how vile his actions or his ‘cause’. Yet another skald wanders through events baldly revising history to portray ignominy as victory in order to enhance a king; he is ever-prepared to abandon a fading king to join an up and coming man with plunder to share. Rather like the main character in Saramago’s History of the Siege of Lisbon, we are left to wonder what really happened at events we know only from ancient tales, and to ask whether we judge an artist by his truth or by his ‘art’.
In sum, both worth reading for understanding where these cultures have been, where they went, and how we haven’t really escaped these times. Laxness in particular is a beautiful work of art.
December 11, 2016
I was very excited for this one, because it's been years since another Laxness book has been translated into English - despite him remaining a legend in Iceland nearly 20 years after his death. It's a very entertaining novel, both in its blatant humor and its not-so-subtle mockery of epic sagas and the ridiculous notion held by many proud Scandinavians that vikings were noble warriors with dignity, valor, and any semblance of morals. Laxness takes this epic tale of sworn brothers Þorgeir and Þormóður, the former a psycho killer and the latter a wannabe poet/skald whose main wish is to glorify the evil, base, "valiant" deeds of his sworn brother and their ilk. Throughout their absurd paths, together or separated, Laxness constantly illustrates how unblinkingly violent and undignified these 11th Century warriors were, with heads being chopped off at every turn, entire townships being burned without regard, and games where babies are thrown up into the air only to be skewered on spear-tips. As much as Laxness has previously demonstrated his love for the language and poetry of the old Sagas, he makes it perfectly clear how much he despises these morally-corrupt scoundrels. He isn't merely "poking fun" at the sagas, he's ripping them apart in hilarious fashion.
On par with his mockery of these warriors is his disgust with the Church of old and their corruption, thievery, and murder. Also getting doused in Laxness' flammable words are Kings and politicians of all sorts. Indeed, it could be read as a condemnation of 20th century world leaders (the book originally came out in Iceland in the early 1950s). "Such was King Olaf's learning that he knew only two solutions to any predicament: one being baptism and the other murder. Due to his childish ignorance, he constantly had to have others at hand to tell him when to baptize and when to strike."
Perhaps my favorite part of the book is when Þormóður goes on his quest for vengeance and ends up in the northern parts of Greenland, "farther north than any other humans." In these parts, he's nearly left for dead and subsequently nursed back to health by the Inuits, who the Scandinavians in Greenland consider subhuman "trolls." It's fascinating to see the details Laxness gives us about the lifestyle, culture, and entertainments of the Inuits. He's extremely compassionate about their people and dignity, and holds no bars when it comes to contrasting them with the Norsemen and their evil, base ways.*
The middle section gets bogged down a bit when it moves from Iceland to Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Rome, and Kiev, introducing a bunch of history and new characters and virtually ignoring our sworn brothers for about a quarter of the book. However, some of the most scathing indictments of the Church of that time are in this section, so it holds interest.
All in all another pretty essential Laxness book, and one with a very unique tone (which says a lot about a writer whose books often have rather diverse tones).
Some favorite passages:
"Good men, let us now go and set Norway awash with flames. And when we have burned, scorched, and decimated the land, I will name my right-hand men and grant estates and titles to those who make the greatest achievements in the work that we shall commence in the red light of dawn. [...] The time has come for us to burn the Norwegian peasants' dwellings to charcoal. It is my command that you spare no creature that draws breath in Norway, and show no man mercy until I have once again gained control of the land. Wherever you see a churl with his brood in field or meadow, on the highroad, or in his punt, cut off his head. If you see a cow slaughter it. Set each and every house ablaze, and send barns up in flames. Millhouses--topple them; bridges--break them. Wells--piss in them."
-------
"Good sirs, it is my understanding that this man you are teasing is a countryman of mine, and I ask you to regard his sore and battered feet and consider what a difficult road he has traveled. Look, too, at how weathered and furrowed his face is. This man has certainly traveled far longer and harder roads than you. I would hazard that he has experienced a thing or two more than some of you who lie about here among the skerries of Norway, men of little spirit and narrow outlooks."
-------
*"[In the north] were to be found the abodes of the troll-races and sorcerers that the Greenland colonists called skraelings, after the way they wrapped themselves in scrappy, tattery skins and furs the likes of which Norsemen were ashamed to wear. The Norsemen refused to consider skraelings as human and declared them unfit to live [...]. Whenever the skraelings were sighted on land, the Norse chieftains sent out a call to arms and sallied out to kill them. The Norsemen soon learned that the skraelings' sorcery was so potent that they were never in mortal peril on sea or land. To them, every sort of weather was fair, and they were never more entertained than during the tempests that froze the life out of Norsemen or drowned them. These folks always had an abundance of food, in both good and bad years, and their bodies wobbled with fat. They feasted joyously while everything undertaken by the Norsemen - reputed to be wise, industrious husbandmen - went amiss, their colonies under constant threat of hunger and want, their crops failing and their livestock perishing, their children dying in the womb. When the sky darkened with piercing winds, heavy snowstorms, and harsh frosts, the troll-folk were settled snugly in their castles of ice, entertaining themselves by singing the 'Hymn of the Moon Man' backwards and forwards, night and day, and not giving a hoot whether the storms went on for days or blew over. The Norsemen, on the other hand, found it particularly bizarre that his race had no weapons and no knowledge of the arts of manslaughter and murder, and let themselves be chopped up like brushwood and their dwellings be set on fire when their sorcery was powerless to save their lives."
On par with his mockery of these warriors is his disgust with the Church of old and their corruption, thievery, and murder. Also getting doused in Laxness' flammable words are Kings and politicians of all sorts. Indeed, it could be read as a condemnation of 20th century world leaders (the book originally came out in Iceland in the early 1950s). "Such was King Olaf's learning that he knew only two solutions to any predicament: one being baptism and the other murder. Due to his childish ignorance, he constantly had to have others at hand to tell him when to baptize and when to strike."
Perhaps my favorite part of the book is when Þormóður goes on his quest for vengeance and ends up in the northern parts of Greenland, "farther north than any other humans." In these parts, he's nearly left for dead and subsequently nursed back to health by the Inuits, who the Scandinavians in Greenland consider subhuman "trolls." It's fascinating to see the details Laxness gives us about the lifestyle, culture, and entertainments of the Inuits. He's extremely compassionate about their people and dignity, and holds no bars when it comes to contrasting them with the Norsemen and their evil, base ways.*
The middle section gets bogged down a bit when it moves from Iceland to Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Rome, and Kiev, introducing a bunch of history and new characters and virtually ignoring our sworn brothers for about a quarter of the book. However, some of the most scathing indictments of the Church of that time are in this section, so it holds interest.
All in all another pretty essential Laxness book, and one with a very unique tone (which says a lot about a writer whose books often have rather diverse tones).
Some favorite passages:
"Good men, let us now go and set Norway awash with flames. And when we have burned, scorched, and decimated the land, I will name my right-hand men and grant estates and titles to those who make the greatest achievements in the work that we shall commence in the red light of dawn. [...] The time has come for us to burn the Norwegian peasants' dwellings to charcoal. It is my command that you spare no creature that draws breath in Norway, and show no man mercy until I have once again gained control of the land. Wherever you see a churl with his brood in field or meadow, on the highroad, or in his punt, cut off his head. If you see a cow slaughter it. Set each and every house ablaze, and send barns up in flames. Millhouses--topple them; bridges--break them. Wells--piss in them."
-------
"Good sirs, it is my understanding that this man you are teasing is a countryman of mine, and I ask you to regard his sore and battered feet and consider what a difficult road he has traveled. Look, too, at how weathered and furrowed his face is. This man has certainly traveled far longer and harder roads than you. I would hazard that he has experienced a thing or two more than some of you who lie about here among the skerries of Norway, men of little spirit and narrow outlooks."
-------
*"[In the north] were to be found the abodes of the troll-races and sorcerers that the Greenland colonists called skraelings, after the way they wrapped themselves in scrappy, tattery skins and furs the likes of which Norsemen were ashamed to wear. The Norsemen refused to consider skraelings as human and declared them unfit to live [...]. Whenever the skraelings were sighted on land, the Norse chieftains sent out a call to arms and sallied out to kill them. The Norsemen soon learned that the skraelings' sorcery was so potent that they were never in mortal peril on sea or land. To them, every sort of weather was fair, and they were never more entertained than during the tempests that froze the life out of Norsemen or drowned them. These folks always had an abundance of food, in both good and bad years, and their bodies wobbled with fat. They feasted joyously while everything undertaken by the Norsemen - reputed to be wise, industrious husbandmen - went amiss, their colonies under constant threat of hunger and want, their crops failing and their livestock perishing, their children dying in the womb. When the sky darkened with piercing winds, heavy snowstorms, and harsh frosts, the troll-folk were settled snugly in their castles of ice, entertaining themselves by singing the 'Hymn of the Moon Man' backwards and forwards, night and day, and not giving a hoot whether the storms went on for days or blew over. The Norsemen, on the other hand, found it particularly bizarre that his race had no weapons and no knowledge of the arts of manslaughter and murder, and let themselves be chopped up like brushwood and their dwellings be set on fire when their sorcery was powerless to save their lives."
June 8, 2012
Alle eer aan de schrijver alsook aan de vertaler, Marcel Otten, die onversaagd verder gaat met de vertaling, uit het IJslands, van de meesterwerken van Halldor Laxness. Deze "anti-vikingsaga" gaat speelt zich af in het Noorwegen van de 14de eeuw en handelt voornamelijk over 3 personages; de bloedbroeders Thormod de dichter en Thorgeir de krijger en later Olaf de Dikke.Thormod en Thorgeir, 2 wat onbeholpen personages die het geluk en een zekere toekomst achter zich laten op zoek naar avontuur en roem. Hun wegen scheiden zich al gauw na een korte periode van voorspoed, waarin ze samen optrekken, als Thormod de dichter na een rampzalige boottocht al meteen verliefd word op de eerste trollenfee die ze tegen komen. In tegenstelling tot de saga's die een heldenepos en een eerbetoon aan de Scandinavische volksaard zijn gaat het de twee avonturiers van kwaad naar erger en word hun onbehouwen houding en domheid volledig uitgespeld. Olaf de dikke, later de Heilige, was een ordinaire boerenpummel en brandschatter die als huurling Europa afschuimde met zijn Vikingtroep en het even bracht tot Koning van Noorwegen. Hij was verantwoordelijk voor de gewelddadige kerstening van Noorwegen. Zijn veld- en boottochten voeren je door een groot deel van Europa langs de hoven van Koningen en ander oplichters. Interessant is het nawoord van de vertaler waarin hij de schrijver en latere Nobelprijswinnaar kadert in het na-oorlogse Europa van eind jaren 40. Halldor Laxness schreef dit boek in het Ijslands van rond 1200 wat op zich een prestatie is, denk even na over het werk van Marcel Otten om dit te vertalen naar het Nederlands van de 21ste euw zonder in deze de geest van de schrijver te verloochenen. Dankjewel Halldor, Merci Marcel
November 3, 2016
I had a much more enjoyable time reading this than I had anticipated, and found myself laughing out loud on more than one occasion. My initial feelings were that this would be a good book to read, but not necessarily fun. In the end I was correct on the former and completely wrong on the latter.
Þorgeir and Þormóður (the "Þ" in their names is, I believe, pronounced like the "Th" of Thor) are the titular wayward heroes. They are born at a time when Icelandic men are moving away from the tradition of pillaging marauding and pillaging for riches, and are instead amassing riches through more peaceable means. Having been raised on stories of blood and glory, and being convinced that the attaining of glory through blood is the manly thing to do, the idea of peace is not exactly to the taste of Þorgeir:
Þorgeir's tendency to become affronted at the slightest things, or to take offense for no reason was particularly funny to me. He seemed to be at the extreme end of the stereotypical Viking scale: quick to anger, not wanting to admit weakness, and would literally prefer to plunge off a cliff than ask for help.
Þormóður brought a more fantastical element to the novel, as he comes into contact with Fates (or the Nordic iteration of them anyway) and trolls, has encounters with Valkyries and witches, and just generally lives a much dreamier sort of life. Of the two I probably preferred Þorgeir, but that's mostly because he made me laugh with his ridiculousness.
It was this ridiculousness and the deadpan humour throughout that was probably my favourite thing about Wayward Heroes. I wasn't necessarily expecting it and it gave levity to a book that I think would have been lacking without it.
I found the historical aspect of the novel very interesting. Not being overly knowledgeable on the history of Iceland and Scandinavia, I can't really comment on it in terms of how accurately it was portrayed, or how it fits in with Laxness's commentary on the world at the time in which he was writing, but it's whet my appetite for more historical fiction set in Iceland and Scandinavia, and probably some non-fiction too.
Although the allegorical aspect of the novel might be beyond my novel, I can safely say that in the centuries between now and when Wayward Heroes is set, politics hasn't become any more sensible, particularly if the current political climate is anything to go by. Laxness's work is definitely that of the enduring sort that is relevant no matter which decade you happen to be reading in. But does this speak highly of the reach of his work, or show the lack of change in humanity? I'd like to think it's the former, but perhaps it's a little of both.
My only issue with the book is that coming in at 500 pages, it started to feel a little long towards the end and my interest began to wane in the parts that were more about politics and less about the two sworn brothers. I can understand why these things were included, but with so many kings/wannabe kings to keep track of, it got to be a bit of a struggle. It's definitely one of those books that would benefit from a slow reading - maybe a couple of chapters a week rather than trying to get it all out of the way in as short a period of time as possible, which is perhaps where I went wrong with it. I'd definitely reread it, but I'd take my time with it.
I should warn you that there are lots of place names in the book that are in Icelandic; I felt like I stumbled over these a bit in the early stages of the novel and I found them distracting and a bit jarring to read, but I became used to it in the end and I actually came to enjoy reading these wonderful place names, such as "Hrafnsfjörður" and "Sviðinsstaðir".
Laxness was awarded the Nobel Prize "for his vivid epic power which has renewed the great narrative art of Iceland" (nobelprize.org). After reading Wayward Heroes I have to say that I 100% agree with the phrase "vivid epic power" and I'll definitely be looking for more of his work.
Þorgeir and Þormóður (the "Þ" in their names is, I believe, pronounced like the "Th" of Thor) are the titular wayward heroes. They are born at a time when Icelandic men are moving away from the tradition of pillaging marauding and pillaging for riches, and are instead amassing riches through more peaceable means. Having been raised on stories of blood and glory, and being convinced that the attaining of glory through blood is the manly thing to do, the idea of peace is not exactly to the taste of Þorgeir:
A little farther down the road they found a farmstead, where no one was stirring yet. [...] Þorgeir went to one of the windows and shouted that there were visitors outside, and that those inside were to open the door. A woman asked who went there.
"Champions and warriors," said Þorgeir.
"So you are not men of peace?" asked the woman.
"I hope that we will never commit such a howling offense as to sue for peace with others, said Þorgeir.
Þorgeir's tendency to become affronted at the slightest things, or to take offense for no reason was particularly funny to me. He seemed to be at the extreme end of the stereotypical Viking scale: quick to anger, not wanting to admit weakness, and would literally prefer to plunge off a cliff than ask for help.
... if Þorgeir had called out even a little loudly, Þormóður could easily have heard him. Yet on this, the old books all tell the same story: nothing could have been further from Þorgeir's mind at that moment, hanging as he was from the cliff, than to call his sworn brother's name only to beg him for help.
Þormóður brought a more fantastical element to the novel, as he comes into contact with Fates (or the Nordic iteration of them anyway) and trolls, has encounters with Valkyries and witches, and just generally lives a much dreamier sort of life. Of the two I probably preferred Þorgeir, but that's mostly because he made me laugh with his ridiculousness.
It was this ridiculousness and the deadpan humour throughout that was probably my favourite thing about Wayward Heroes. I wasn't necessarily expecting it and it gave levity to a book that I think would have been lacking without it.
Although some books state that the Norsemen had axes so sharp that they could cleave men from head to toe, the way wooden rafters are split, or cut men's heads off and slice their limbs off their bodies without needing a chopping-block, or halve a fleeing enemy with one blow, making him fall to the ground in two parts, we believe all this to have been dreamed up by people who actually wielded blunt weapons.
I found the historical aspect of the novel very interesting. Not being overly knowledgeable on the history of Iceland and Scandinavia, I can't really comment on it in terms of how accurately it was portrayed, or how it fits in with Laxness's commentary on the world at the time in which he was writing, but it's whet my appetite for more historical fiction set in Iceland and Scandinavia, and probably some non-fiction too.
Although the allegorical aspect of the novel might be beyond my novel, I can safely say that in the centuries between now and when Wayward Heroes is set, politics hasn't become any more sensible, particularly if the current political climate is anything to go by. Laxness's work is definitely that of the enduring sort that is relevant no matter which decade you happen to be reading in. But does this speak highly of the reach of his work, or show the lack of change in humanity? I'd like to think it's the former, but perhaps it's a little of both.
My only issue with the book is that coming in at 500 pages, it started to feel a little long towards the end and my interest began to wane in the parts that were more about politics and less about the two sworn brothers. I can understand why these things were included, but with so many kings/wannabe kings to keep track of, it got to be a bit of a struggle. It's definitely one of those books that would benefit from a slow reading - maybe a couple of chapters a week rather than trying to get it all out of the way in as short a period of time as possible, which is perhaps where I went wrong with it. I'd definitely reread it, but I'd take my time with it.
I should warn you that there are lots of place names in the book that are in Icelandic; I felt like I stumbled over these a bit in the early stages of the novel and I found them distracting and a bit jarring to read, but I became used to it in the end and I actually came to enjoy reading these wonderful place names, such as "Hrafnsfjörður" and "Sviðinsstaðir".
Laxness was awarded the Nobel Prize "for his vivid epic power which has renewed the great narrative art of Iceland" (nobelprize.org). After reading Wayward Heroes I have to say that I 100% agree with the phrase "vivid epic power" and I'll definitely be looking for more of his work.
January 24, 2013
A fine book in the epic story tradition of the Icelandic Sagas. The author used existing sagas, but changed the character so the book became an hilarious tale of the wanderings of two young men who become blood brothers and want to live according to the old warrior traditions and tales of the Vikings. They want to gather fame in the service of a Norwegian king Olaf, a warrior who succeeds to become king and murders his country men.
The book is a parody of the old sagas of Iceland, which can be read in the The Prose Edda and other books.
Halldór Laxness wrote this book in the old-Icelandic language.
I loved the way the story developed and the way it was told with long poetic sentences. Especially the last part where Thormod the poet seeks revenge for the death of Thorgeir and travels to Greenland, becomes a member of an Inuit community for a short time. Travels to Norway to seek the glorious king in whose service his blood brother has died, only to discover that the glorious Olaf of his poem, has almost been defeated. The translation in Dutch is brilliant.
I'm going to search for the real version (the old Icelandic sage) which has been translated in English.
The book is a parody of the old sagas of Iceland, which can be read in the The Prose Edda and other books.
Halldór Laxness wrote this book in the old-Icelandic language.
I loved the way the story developed and the way it was told with long poetic sentences. Especially the last part where Thormod the poet seeks revenge for the death of Thorgeir and travels to Greenland, becomes a member of an Inuit community for a short time. Travels to Norway to seek the glorious king in whose service his blood brother has died, only to discover that the glorious Olaf of his poem, has almost been defeated. The translation in Dutch is brilliant.
I'm going to search for the real version (the old Icelandic sage) which has been translated in English.
July 30, 2015
De Gelukkige Krijgers is a very fine and unusual book. I enjoyed the tour of the eleventh century Nordic world, from the West fjords of Iceland to Ireland, England, Normandy, Norway, Kiev and Greenland. Even more I enjoyed the way Laxness debunks the warrior myths of Iceland, as well as the sanctity of the early church, showing cruelty, pettiness, greed and banal self interest where his warrior and his skaldic poet see honour and fame.
January 17, 2023
Ég hafði mjög gaman af því að lesa Gerplu, stundum smá þung og sérstaklega vegna þess að hún er skrifuð í þessum gamla stíl og mikið vitnað í orð sem ég hafði aldrei heyrt áður. Þegar ég var um það bil hálfnaður með bókina var ég sannfærður um að þessi lestur yrði alger vonbrigði, en þegar ég var búinn með bókina og var á síðustu 20 blaðsíðunum fann ég að hún snerti virkilega mikið við mér.
March 27, 2017
This is really not my sort of book and therefore it’s difficult for me to write a review. I decided to read it as I know very little about Halldor Laxness’s work and am always eager to expand my knowledge of authors from other countries, but this one defeated me. Very much in the tradition of the Sagas and therefore packed with all the tropes of such literature, I found it unengaging and difficult to read – not least because the translator chose to use the Icelandic alphabet. The historical background, which the author explores in some depth, made for some heavy-going reading and slowed the action considerably, and the rather picaresque romp of the two main characters left me cold. So I’m hedging my bets with the rating and assuming it was my tastes rather than the book itself that has left me feeling so half-hearted.
March 27, 2017
A parody of the classic sagas of violence and murder. I saw what he was getting at, at least in part, and didn't hate it. But a little of this went a long way.
December 20, 2021
'Two are the heroes from Vestfirðir that have gained the greatest renown: Þorgeir Hávarsson and Þormóður Bessason...' - So begins this epic book inspired by the medieval Icelandic sagas and written in the period style, full of Viking raids and games of throne. Armed with daggers of satire and irony, Laxness playfully skewers the posturing, hypocrisies, and tomfoolery of the Christian churches and those ambitious for royalty in the early part of the 1th century. It felt to me somewhat of a more serious, but equally hysterical, precursor to Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
This book further cements Laxness among my unequivocal favourite of authors. His books are full of great characters, brilliant sentences, intense sympathy and empathy for the downtrodden and powerless, and are simply an absolute pleasure to read. I'm very happy to know Archipelago Books is continuing to translate more of his works into English.
This book further cements Laxness among my unequivocal favourite of authors. His books are full of great characters, brilliant sentences, intense sympathy and empathy for the downtrodden and powerless, and are simply an absolute pleasure to read. I'm very happy to know Archipelago Books is continuing to translate more of his works into English.
September 20, 2024
A tough slog to get through; I don't think I would read another story of this type again. It was based on the ancient Icelandic sagas, was supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, but no humor came through for me at all.
August 25, 2021
ég bara vá
August 23, 2021
Snilld!
August 4, 2020
July 27, 2020 : Could've done without the irony, and the digressions to the rise and fall of kings, though I get the purpose of the latter, whereas the former dilutes the poignancy of this heartfelt novel-length condemnation of the urges to power and violence. The book is great when it cleaves close to its two disturbing and, in some sense, fascinating main characters. It is utterly great when it pauses to narrate particular events in detail, down to the conversations. But that doesn't happen as much as I'd have liked it to.
October 24, 2021
A lot is made of Laxness telling this tale in the style and language of the medieval Icelandic sagas, and whether the translation into English did him justice. I can’t really speak to those things, but I don’t think they’re the main point anyway. With the exception of an occasional change of tense you really wouldn’t notice it – the book simply reads as the tale of two “sworn brothers” (Þorgeir Hávarsson and Þormóður Bessason, who have sworn lifelong oaths to one another) living in Iceland about 1,000 years ago, and the historical context of politics, religion, and warfare in Norway, Sweden, Denmark, France, and England. That may sound dry, but it’s not. This is a fantastic piece of historical fiction, and aside from everything else, I learned quite a bit.
What makes the book so powerful is its debunking of Icelandic and Norse legends, the tales told by “skalds” and historians, which glorified their heroes and kings. In a simple, elegant way, Laxness shows us that those searching for glory and those seeking to rule were most often murderers and butchers, men whose crazy bloodlust and will to power led to countless acts of horrifying barbarism. The men who would go down in history and made saints, such as Olaf II of Norway, are shown for what they really were. He does this with all of the right touches, with moments of irony, humor, and occasional reflection from the present. He also does not hold back on Christianity, which was far from Christ-like in its desire for riches and power, and its complicity in the violence. How interesting is it that the Vikings encountered a race of nonviolent people in the extremities of the north, the ancestors to today’s Inuits, who lived in peace and shared the land, and often butchered them. The Inuits would call the Norsemen “pale mankillers” as a result, and it’s hard not to see in this a parallel to Native American encounters with Europeans.
I have read criticism of the book that the sworn brothers’ tale starts to get lost in the historical movements they are swept up in, and which Laxness describes. (Even in this review, I notice that I’m not describing at length the sworn brothers’ memorable adventures, such as Þorgeir hanging from a branch on a cliff face but because of honor, not crying out for help, or Þormóður, much to his brother’s disdain, pursuing women.) I suppose this is part of Laxness’s point, for aren’t most people simply swallowed up by history? The men seek glory and follow their own twisted version of honor, and while you might expect a dramatic comeuppance or a tidy ending, instead they find worse, irrelevance. Laxness is making a point here about man’s fate, in addition to man’s inhumanity to man.
At age 50 when he wrote the book, Laxness was at the height of his powers, and was truly deserving of his Nobel Prize three years later. I found it telling that it was written after WWII and during the cold war, and poignant that the behavior and cycle of violence has never ended. If you’re intimidated by the length and complexity of the Icelandic names of people and geography in the first couple of chapters, as Laxness throws them at you fast and furious, don’t worry. You may want to take a couple of notes, but it’s not an issue as you continue along, and the book is well worth it.
What makes the book so powerful is its debunking of Icelandic and Norse legends, the tales told by “skalds” and historians, which glorified their heroes and kings. In a simple, elegant way, Laxness shows us that those searching for glory and those seeking to rule were most often murderers and butchers, men whose crazy bloodlust and will to power led to countless acts of horrifying barbarism. The men who would go down in history and made saints, such as Olaf II of Norway, are shown for what they really were. He does this with all of the right touches, with moments of irony, humor, and occasional reflection from the present. He also does not hold back on Christianity, which was far from Christ-like in its desire for riches and power, and its complicity in the violence. How interesting is it that the Vikings encountered a race of nonviolent people in the extremities of the north, the ancestors to today’s Inuits, who lived in peace and shared the land, and often butchered them. The Inuits would call the Norsemen “pale mankillers” as a result, and it’s hard not to see in this a parallel to Native American encounters with Europeans.
I have read criticism of the book that the sworn brothers’ tale starts to get lost in the historical movements they are swept up in, and which Laxness describes. (Even in this review, I notice that I’m not describing at length the sworn brothers’ memorable adventures, such as Þorgeir hanging from a branch on a cliff face but because of honor, not crying out for help, or Þormóður, much to his brother’s disdain, pursuing women.) I suppose this is part of Laxness’s point, for aren’t most people simply swallowed up by history? The men seek glory and follow their own twisted version of honor, and while you might expect a dramatic comeuppance or a tidy ending, instead they find worse, irrelevance. Laxness is making a point here about man’s fate, in addition to man’s inhumanity to man.
At age 50 when he wrote the book, Laxness was at the height of his powers, and was truly deserving of his Nobel Prize three years later. I found it telling that it was written after WWII and during the cold war, and poignant that the behavior and cycle of violence has never ended. If you’re intimidated by the length and complexity of the Icelandic names of people and geography in the first couple of chapters, as Laxness throws them at you fast and furious, don’t worry. You may want to take a couple of notes, but it’s not an issue as you continue along, and the book is well worth it.
July 30, 2017
Questo è probabilmente il più islandese dei romanzi di Laxness, non solo nella storia quanto soprattutto nella struttura, e questo mi ha creato qualche difficoltà di lettura. L'avventura tragicomica dei due fratelli d'armi Thorgeir e Thormod, ispirata a un'autentica saga, è scritta con uno stile e un ritmo che ricorda molto l'Edda di Snorri, che però non è un romanzo ma una serie di "quadri" narrativi intesi a dare ai poeti dei riferimenti letterari. Anche qui le avventure si svolgono in quadri, che spesso si interrompono per poi riprendere da un'altra parte senza che al lettore non islandese sia dato capire la ragione del fermarsi proprio in quel punto della storia e del perché riprendere proprio in quell'altro punto della storia. Senza questo inconveniente, la descrizione di un mondo in completo divenire come quello dei Paesi Scandinavi al momento della cristianizzazione e la descrizione impietosa dei personaggi avrebbe fatto sì che il libro non avrebbe potuto essere definito altro che un capolavoro.
Ringrazio Archipelago Books e Netgalley per avermi fornito una copia gratuita in cambio di una recensione onesta.
This is probably the most Icelandic of Laxness' novels, not only in its history as especially in the structure, and this caused me some difficulty reading. The tragicomic adventure of the oath-brothers Thorgeir and Thormod, inspired by a true saga, is written with a style and a pace that reminded me of the Snorri'sEdda, but it is not a novel but a series of narrative's 'paintings', intended to give literary references to poets . Again, these adventures take place in 'paintings', which often break and then resume elsewhere without the not Icelandic reader is given to understand the reason why stopping at that point in the story and why they pick up right at any other point of of the plot. Without this inconvenience,with the description of a world complete development like Scandinavia at the time of Christianization and the merciless description of the characters, it would have meant that the book could not be called anything but a masterpiece.
Thank Archipelago Books and Netgalley for giving me a free copy in exchange for an honest review.
Ringrazio Archipelago Books e Netgalley per avermi fornito una copia gratuita in cambio di una recensione onesta.
This is probably the most Icelandic of Laxness' novels, not only in its history as especially in the structure, and this caused me some difficulty reading. The tragicomic adventure of the oath-brothers Thorgeir and Thormod, inspired by a true saga, is written with a style and a pace that reminded me of the Snorri'sEdda, but it is not a novel but a series of narrative's 'paintings', intended to give literary references to poets . Again, these adventures take place in 'paintings', which often break and then resume elsewhere without the not Icelandic reader is given to understand the reason why stopping at that point in the story and why they pick up right at any other point of of the plot. Without this inconvenience,with the description of a world complete development like Scandinavia at the time of Christianization and the merciless description of the characters, it would have meant that the book could not be called anything but a masterpiece.
Thank Archipelago Books and Netgalley for giving me a free copy in exchange for an honest review.
October 16, 2016
Wayward Heroes was one book in the body of work for which Haldor Laxness was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1955. Its inspiration came from the wonderful classic Icelandic Sagas. Wayward Heroes is a title which says it all, because it is the story of Thorgeir and Thormod, two blood brothers. Thorgeir, is obsessed with becoming a warrior, while the less bellicose Thormod aspires to be a great bard. The text begins in a very grand manner in the style of a storyteller enthralling his audience huddled around a roaring fire on a cold winter’s night.
The story is set in eleventh-century Iceland. Europe is not completely Christian. Yet the behaviour of the story’s characters shows that people are essentially the same, regardless of time or location.
Thorgeir witnesses his father’s death; a man who was far from popular in the local community. Fuelled by his father’s stories of Viking warmongering and traumatised by his father’s murder, Thorgeir sets about his own form of training to fulfil his obsession with becoming a Viking warrior and avenge his father’s death. He eventually meets frustrated bard Thormod, and the two set off on their adventures, Don Quixote style.
But there is no Sancho Panza to save them from themselves as the characters lurch from one misadventure to the next. They certainly do not seem to be the glorious heroes of the Sagas. Their brand of Viking prowess is little more than sordid and unnecessary violence, ensuring they soon wear out their welcome. Although eventually history shows they do manage to redeem themselves.
This is a book to savour and one that does feel epic, while at the same time feeling remarkably intimate. You are also left wondering whether you have just read a work of fiction, or something that really happened a long, long time ago in an unforgiving land far, far away.
Wayward Heroes was courtesy of Archipelago Books via NetGalley
The story is set in eleventh-century Iceland. Europe is not completely Christian. Yet the behaviour of the story’s characters shows that people are essentially the same, regardless of time or location.
Thorgeir witnesses his father’s death; a man who was far from popular in the local community. Fuelled by his father’s stories of Viking warmongering and traumatised by his father’s murder, Thorgeir sets about his own form of training to fulfil his obsession with becoming a Viking warrior and avenge his father’s death. He eventually meets frustrated bard Thormod, and the two set off on their adventures, Don Quixote style.
But there is no Sancho Panza to save them from themselves as the characters lurch from one misadventure to the next. They certainly do not seem to be the glorious heroes of the Sagas. Their brand of Viking prowess is little more than sordid and unnecessary violence, ensuring they soon wear out their welcome. Although eventually history shows they do manage to redeem themselves.
This is a book to savour and one that does feel epic, while at the same time feeling remarkably intimate. You are also left wondering whether you have just read a work of fiction, or something that really happened a long, long time ago in an unforgiving land far, far away.
Wayward Heroes was courtesy of Archipelago Books via NetGalley
June 28, 2016
Ég er mikill aðdáandi Halldórs Laxness og hef verið ákaflega hrifin af flestum bóka hans — fyrir utan Heimsljós sem ég náði einhvern veginn ekki að tengjast. Því miður fellur Gerpla í flokk með Heimsljósi. Ég veit að þetta er ádeila á Íslendingasögurnar og það kom fyrir að ég hló að einhverju — kannski sérstaklega í lokin — en mér fannst þessi bók samt eiginlega ekki segja mér neitt sem ég hafði ekki áður lesið í Fóstbræðrarsögu. Og mér fannst ég ekki þurfa að lesa Gerplu til að sjá fáránleikann í hetjudýrkun. En kannski var þetta öðruvísi þegar bókin kom út. Þá litu Íslendingar enn á Gunnar á Hlíðarenda sem mesta kappa sem uppi hefur verið og þá hötuðu menn Hallgerði. Þetta hefur einfaldlega breyst á Íslandi, alla vega á meðal þeirra sem virkilega velta sögunum fyrir sér, og því á Gerpla kannski einfaldlega minna erindi til okkar nú en hún gerði þegar hún kom út. Eða kannski á hún bara svona lítið erindi til mín. Ég veit það ekki, ég veit bara að mér fannst bókin eiginlega hundleiðinleg og ég kláraði hana bara af því að ég er þrjósk. En ég þurfti að leggja hana nokkrum sinnum frá mér og taka langar pásur.
May 25, 2017
Wayward Heroes follows the story of Þormóður Bessason and Þorgeir Hávarsson. The book, written by Icelandic Nobel Prize winner Halldór Laxness, is a retelling of various Icelandic sagas.
Ultimately this is a story about brotherhood, loyalty, friendship, power, and revenge. I loved the story and it was told really well. It takes place around the 10th and 11th century, the time period of one of my other favorite books, The Long Ships, and takes you on the adventures of Vikings. Halfway through, the book becomes a story about revenge and power. The first half of the book tells the story of Þormóður Bessason and Þorgeir Hávarsson as they make their way as Vikings. The last half of the book focuses on the political powers that are controlling the areas of England and Scandinavia. The pace of the book is done really well and the political atmosphere was told in a way that didn't feel bogged down or long-winded. A great story and I'm looking forward to reading more of Laxness' other books.
Ultimately this is a story about brotherhood, loyalty, friendship, power, and revenge. I loved the story and it was told really well. It takes place around the 10th and 11th century, the time period of one of my other favorite books, The Long Ships, and takes you on the adventures of Vikings. Halfway through, the book becomes a story about revenge and power. The first half of the book tells the story of Þormóður Bessason and Þorgeir Hávarsson as they make their way as Vikings. The last half of the book focuses on the political powers that are controlling the areas of England and Scandinavia. The pace of the book is done really well and the political atmosphere was told in a way that didn't feel bogged down or long-winded. A great story and I'm looking forward to reading more of Laxness' other books.
January 4, 2015
Verwacht geen verhaal over helden. De drie hoofdpersonen van dit boek zijn zware jongens die geweld niet schuwen. Geschreven in Edda-stijl is dit een bijzonder mooi verhaal, gebaseerd op een tweetal sagen, waaruit Laxness zijn eigen sagen gecreerd heeft. Oorspronkelijk geschreven in Oud-ijslands, een uitzonderlijke prestatie van Laxness. Maar een nog grotere prestatie was het vertalen in het Nederlands door Marcel Otten uit het Oud-ijslands in een niet al te modern Nederlands.
Een compleet ander boek dan werken als Salka Valka en Onafhankelijke mensen, gelukkig zijn de mooie beschrijvingen van de omgeving ook hier weer terug te vinden.
Een compleet ander boek dan werken als Salka Valka en Onafhankelijke mensen, gelukkig zijn de mooie beschrijvingen van de omgeving ook hier weer terug te vinden.
July 25, 2016
If you are interested in Iceland or hero stories, this is a good book for you. Think Jason and the Argonauts. The book is very readable. Some of the sentences are beautifully constructed, even though this is a translation. I would have liked to see proper names also done in alphabetic characters instead of Icelandic ones. About halfway through the book, though, I got tired of it. I felt like it started getting repetitive. I received a free ebook version of this book in exchange for an honest review.
August 17, 2015
Je moet wel heel erg van deze archaïsche vertellingen houden om het boek compleet uit te kunnen lezen. De roman is gebaseerd op door de auteur hertaalde zeer oude teksten van sagen uit de noordelijke landen IJsland, Noorwegen en Denemarken. De verhalen spelen zich af in ongeveer de elfde eeuw en stellen macht, krijgslust, overwinning en verlies aan de orde. In hoeverre de beschreven geschiedenissen historisch juist zijn valt te betwijfelen. Als ontspannende literatuur is het wel erg zware kost.
June 4, 2008
A hilarious romp through Viking-Age Iceland and Northern Europe.
May 22, 2015
Hei, þetta var flott bók. Þessi Halldór er bara dáldið klár.
Want to read
July 4, 2016* e-Arc provided by Edelweiss *
June 12, 2017
Ironic, witty, partly universal, partly requires deeper knowledge of Nordic history.
Very difficult to read in Icelandic so I had to use the English translation as a help.
Very difficult to read in Icelandic so I had to use the English translation as a help.
December 3, 2023
It’s probably too easy to say Halldór Laxness is Iceland’s John Steinbeck, but I’m going to say it anyway. They both offer hard-left ideologies clothed in the garb of their respective countries. Laxness has given me the metaphor to help me better understand Steinbeck: in Wayward Heroes, the peasants make their voices heard with mean cudgels, not trimmed swords. Maybe Steinbeck is America’s Laxness.
For a second time, I found myself wishing I spoke Icelandic, Old Norse, enough to determine whether Laxness’s prose choices are so compelling or whether I’m really celebrating the translations I’ve just read. It’s language and love of language that sustains me in novels. And I do love Laxness’ language, offered through his translators. Add to this the layer that Laxness is affecting a voice in this book, imitative of skalds and sagas that would be familiar to him, but is less familiar to me, one-and-done reader of the translated Sagas. Which begs the question, what element about language am
I loving when I read Laxness? Regardless - shout out to them all - the author, the tradition he draws from, and the excellent translators of this book (Philip Roughton) and Independent People (J.A. Thompson), who have given me my own favorite skald.
The main characters are types, important for the values they represent instead of their rounded and complex selves. In fact, all characters are two-dimensional types, with Þormóthur’s love interests emerging as the most compelling characters despite their secondary roles. These types interact with and against one another in a heavy metal mytho-historical landscape I simply can’t get enough of. Cue Zeppelin. Cue Amon Amarth. The complications they chafe against accumulate in that alchemical space of historical reality and fiction. Who were these people? What were their values? How did they live? Maybe fiction isn’t the place to have these questions answered, especially when you see the political bent of the author rising to the surface of all his work. But then, what are the original sources? Adam of Bremen? Yeah he’s here, fictionalized, with all his own motives. English monastic scribes and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle? Them, too. Scaldic lays and runic inscriptions from by-Þorr Norsemen? Yep. Snorri Snurluson? Of course. Byzantines and Rus and Popes? All equally untrustworthy sources, but all all we have. For my money and time, put it in the hands of Straight-Out-of-Laxness and let his language do its thing; he’s an authority as good as any to throw me into the churn of this other time and this other place in order to help me think about my own.
For a second time, I found myself wishing I spoke Icelandic, Old Norse, enough to determine whether Laxness’s prose choices are so compelling or whether I’m really celebrating the translations I’ve just read. It’s language and love of language that sustains me in novels. And I do love Laxness’ language, offered through his translators. Add to this the layer that Laxness is affecting a voice in this book, imitative of skalds and sagas that would be familiar to him, but is less familiar to me, one-and-done reader of the translated Sagas. Which begs the question, what element about language am
I loving when I read Laxness? Regardless - shout out to them all - the author, the tradition he draws from, and the excellent translators of this book (Philip Roughton) and Independent People (J.A. Thompson), who have given me my own favorite skald.
The main characters are types, important for the values they represent instead of their rounded and complex selves. In fact, all characters are two-dimensional types, with Þormóthur’s love interests emerging as the most compelling characters despite their secondary roles. These types interact with and against one another in a heavy metal mytho-historical landscape I simply can’t get enough of. Cue Zeppelin. Cue Amon Amarth. The complications they chafe against accumulate in that alchemical space of historical reality and fiction. Who were these people? What were their values? How did they live? Maybe fiction isn’t the place to have these questions answered, especially when you see the political bent of the author rising to the surface of all his work. But then, what are the original sources? Adam of Bremen? Yeah he’s here, fictionalized, with all his own motives. English monastic scribes and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle? Them, too. Scaldic lays and runic inscriptions from by-Þorr Norsemen? Yep. Snorri Snurluson? Of course. Byzantines and Rus and Popes? All equally untrustworthy sources, but all all we have. For my money and time, put it in the hands of Straight-Out-of-Laxness and let his language do its thing; he’s an authority as good as any to throw me into the churn of this other time and this other place in order to help me think about my own.
January 27, 2018
Wayward Heroes is not by any means my favorite Laxness -- the characters are not as well drawn, the dialogue lacks the sly wit -- but it has its own rewards. Structurally, it is quite odd: it's a revisioning of two Icelandic sagas, knit together rather abruptly. The first third of the book deals with two local "heroes" whose idea of heroism is of arming themselves (with the worst imaginable weapons), and basically going door to door, robbing people, challenging them to a fight to the death. In the second third of the book, the "sworn brothers" split up. The more violent of the two becomes a minor character, basically vanishing, in the 11th Century historical story of Olaf the Stout, a young viking leader who is the chief torturer for a fleet which invades and conquers England. Then the narrative turns to the other of the original heroes, who has had several idyllic years as a prosperous farmer with a beautiful woman (a swan), and their two daughters. He leaves them to pursue a final heroic quest, in which he lives for a time with the Inuit, whose society is utopian, and later meets up with the abhorrent Olaf, who, it is revealed, will become St. Olaf.
Like other Laxness books, Wayward Heroes is a critique of the hypocrisy of Christianity (there's a fantastic scene in which the Pope and his advisors are on their knees, grabbing at coins which have spilled from an incredibly smelly cheese; Olaf for a time makes a living by cutting the flesh from severed heads which will be displayed by priests in moneymaking scheme), and of violence by both the uncivilized and "civilized" (i.e., capitalism). The peasants are invariably the good guys, while all aristocracy is shown as cowardly, brutal, and ultimately insane. And writers are viewed with suspicion, as another sort of wayward hero.
As with other Laxness, it takes a while to get into, and the structure is not fully satisfying, yet there are many memorable scenes which make the reading worthwhile. I am tempted to read the original sagas, as Laxness's political critique is at least as much of the skalds (Icelandic poets), whose works celebrated the exploits of terrible "heroes," extolling a life of violence, as it is of the "heroes" themselves. It is made clear that the sworn brothers' lives were determined by hearing and interpreting uncritically too many of these sagas.
Like other Laxness books, Wayward Heroes is a critique of the hypocrisy of Christianity (there's a fantastic scene in which the Pope and his advisors are on their knees, grabbing at coins which have spilled from an incredibly smelly cheese; Olaf for a time makes a living by cutting the flesh from severed heads which will be displayed by priests in moneymaking scheme), and of violence by both the uncivilized and "civilized" (i.e., capitalism). The peasants are invariably the good guys, while all aristocracy is shown as cowardly, brutal, and ultimately insane. And writers are viewed with suspicion, as another sort of wayward hero.
As with other Laxness, it takes a while to get into, and the structure is not fully satisfying, yet there are many memorable scenes which make the reading worthwhile. I am tempted to read the original sagas, as Laxness's political critique is at least as much of the skalds (Icelandic poets), whose works celebrated the exploits of terrible "heroes," extolling a life of violence, as it is of the "heroes" themselves. It is made clear that the sworn brothers' lives were determined by hearing and interpreting uncritically too many of these sagas.
July 11, 2023
I am surprised at how much I enjoyed reading Wayward Heroes.
I certainly struggled a lot at first. Icelandic names were challenging for me to read, so it took a while for me to distinguish between different characters (the two main characters are named Þorgeir and Þormóðr, which I kept mixing up at first) and the names of various locations. After that hurdle, I struggled to parse Laxness' writing style. The book jumps around a lot, following different characters, entering lengthy descriptions, history lessons, and overall has a rather quick-paced plot.
This book challenged me a lot, but I found that I was rewarded in the end. This novel is more of a comedy than an epic, and pokes fun at the morality, traditions, and "heroics" of medieval Icelandic Vikings. He does not shy away from ironic critiques of behaviors and quotes, and the reader leaves the story having reduced their esteem of the so-called mighty Vikings.
I'm glad to have read this book - it overall follows a fun and exciting story, whilst teaching me about a region of the world I've never explored or understood before.
I certainly struggled a lot at first. Icelandic names were challenging for me to read, so it took a while for me to distinguish between different characters (the two main characters are named Þorgeir and Þormóðr, which I kept mixing up at first) and the names of various locations. After that hurdle, I struggled to parse Laxness' writing style. The book jumps around a lot, following different characters, entering lengthy descriptions, history lessons, and overall has a rather quick-paced plot.
This book challenged me a lot, but I found that I was rewarded in the end. This novel is more of a comedy than an epic, and pokes fun at the morality, traditions, and "heroics" of medieval Icelandic Vikings. He does not shy away from ironic critiques of behaviors and quotes, and the reader leaves the story having reduced their esteem of the so-called mighty Vikings.
I'm glad to have read this book - it overall follows a fun and exciting story, whilst teaching me about a region of the world I've never explored or understood before.
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