Miss Iceland

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But so, too, is Hekla's unusual voice — reticent but firm, straightforward but wry, melancholic with an undercurrent of irony. She moves in with her friend Jon, a gay man who longs to work in the theater, but can only find dangerous, backbreaking work on fishing trawlers. Reykjavik is both a gossipy town and a literary hotspot — everyone knows where Halldor Laxness lives and keeps an eye out for him. Set mostly in 1963 in the author's native Reykjavík — where the weather is cold, windy, and overcast most of the year — this is a subdued but powerful portrait of rampant sexism and homophobia in a society that had yet to open up to women and gays. The gentle melancholy of the book had a arthouse cinema film-like quality to it and visually the words created a tableaux of images and interactions.

In 1963, Hekla leaves rural Dalir on a coach bound for Reykjavik, reading Ulysses and writing in her notebook. For me, it reminds the reader that opportunities are always in front of us, but that not all of them should be taken. It’s still dark so we sit on a bench in the waiting room of the station, waiting for the fireball to rise above the curved horizon and the world to assume a form. And so he hits the road again – constantly seeking escape from the small-minded bigotry which then, like now, is the greatest barrier to the happiness of good people. There are six regional preliminary contests in each of the five rural regions and in the capital Reykjavík.

It is gentle but also humourous and quite punchy, and the subject is uncomfortable--sexism and homophobia.

Deep down she knows this is not good for her relationship and whilst her secrets remain hidden, cracks appear on the surface of their relationship. Each new novel by Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir is like a meeting with a marvelous friend that immediately makes you feel like you have never parted. It may seem trite to forever be comparing modern Icelandic literature to Viking sagas, but there is an epic saga-like quality to the prose. But the world outside is changing, and Hekla knows she must escape to find freedom abroad, whatever must be left behind. He observes that Iceland's November, 1963 Surtsey eruption, which coincided with Hekla's birthday and preceded JFK's assassination by a week, gave rise to a new island.

So it’s useful that books like Miss Iceland exist to remind us of the bigotry and harassment lurking beneath the surface; the micro-aggressions perpetuating sexism and homophobia which lie not far beneath the civilized facade of even the most progressive-seeming nations. The book cover has no visible wear, and the dust jacket (if applicable) is included for hard covers. Olafsdottir's writing is at once profoundly Icelandic -- focusing the reader on all the particularity of life on that isolated island -- and universal. Hekla's other childhood friend, leads a suffocatingly lonely life, married to a barely literate construction laborer and homebound in a dark basement flat with one baby and another on the way. Her husband named Hekla without consulting her, and consigned the family to a farming life in a countryside she hates.