Under the Glacier
by Halldór Laxness
translated from the Icelandic by Magnus Magnusson
Vintage (March 8, 2005)

A young, unnamed emissary is dispatched by the Bishop of Iceland “to conduct the most important investigation at that world-famous mountain since the days of Jules Verne”, i.e. to investigate Kristinihald undir Jökli (the original title which literally translated means Christianity under the Glacier) and the strange going-ons in Snæffels glacier. A few that the Bishop warned: the local pastor Jón Primus (from repairing primus stoves), refused his stipend or to reply to the Bishop’s letters, becoming a blacksmith and a handyman instead. He doesn’t bury the dead, allowing a corpse to be deposited in the glacier. He doesn’t keep the church in good repair. He is rumoured to be married.

The Bishop instructs the emissary not to interpret, just to report, “not to try to convert them or try to reform anything or anyone”. He’s also not to be personal — “be dry”, and to “write in the third person as much as possible”. Even “if people tell lies, that’s as may be”, because “when people talk they reveal themselves, whether they’re lying or telling the truth.”

But as soon as the narrator, who addresses himself as Embi (short for “emissary of the bishop”), arrives at Snaefellsjökull, he finds that the warnings are just a small part of the gentle eccentricities in a community that regards itself as the center of the world. He’s fed with immoderate amount of cakes and chicory-coffee, the church is derelict and boarded, with entrance made almost impossible, while the pastor’s wife, Úrsalei (also known as Úa and many other names), an Irish-Spanish noblewoman of carefully selected stock, is said to never bathe, read, sleep or eat.

She’s also the madam of a brothel in Buenos Aires, a nun, has died and/or is conjured into a salmon, and as the novel progresses, is also revealed to be the adopted daughter of Prof. Dr. Godman Sýngmann, “the Tycoon” who wishes to harness galactic powers through the glaciers to reanimate the dead (but dies instead). And as Embi inevitably meets her, the 52-year-old who knits sea-mittens all the time for Peru, he is about to become her lover, just like “Saint Theresa and San Juan de la Cruz”.

Structured in a mix of dialogue report and elliptical remarks, it does not have the breadth of Independent People, but nevertheless Under the Glacier is an enjoyable, whimsical satire (though hardly “uproarious”)*.

* Remind me to skip over any preface/introduction by Susan Sontag in the future.