Translated from Danish by Caroline Waight
The Faroe Islands may be autonomous but officially they are – like Greenland – part of the Kingdom of Denmark. Migrants from the Faroes usually head for the mainland, seeking better career opportunities. As does Fritz in the months before the outbreak of WWII. He is joined by his financée, Marita, who arrives in Vordingborg the day the Germans marched into Poland.
The story of Fritz and Marita is told in retrospect by their granddaughter during a family visit to the islands following their deaths. Although born a third-generation Faroese in Denmark, to the narrator, the Faroes is home. What does that mean exactly? Especially when one is both insider and outsider?
For Fritz, home always remained the islands. He left to become an engineer. His intention was to return, to work in the power plant at Botni, but the war put paid to that. Instead he became a teacher and his granddaughter’s mentor. Gradually and during many childhood visits to the Faroes with her grandfather, she developed the same deep connection to the place.
I found the disintegration of Fritz’s dreams over time saddening. (More than that actually, substitute Germany for the Faroes, and the author is speaking on my behalf.)
“The plant was his starting point, his Ithaca, and therefore mine as well; the place he wanted to leave and then go home to”.
“I wanted to say something about assimilation; that assimilation is a methodical loss of memory.”
“In time, the talk of moving back home lost its substance; became something else, a spasm of longing.”
What triggered Fritz’s desire to leave in the first place? An abhorrence of fishing. You can actually feel it, taste it almost in the description of his first, and only, experience fishing on the Arctic wave. More evocative even are the descriptions of his beloved landscape, seen through his granddaughter’s eyes. Indeed the heartfelt connection to the land sings loud and clear despite the ever-present rain. (Well, we are at 62° N.) Through everyday interactions on the islands, Jacobsen records everyday life, both 2 generations ago and now. Not much has changed – it appears there are still no nightclubs! (Is that such a bad thing?) And there’s an object lesson on pages 10-11 for divided Brits to listen respectfully to both sides of the argument concerning whether the Faroes – part of the Kingdom of Denmark, though not of the EU – are still European …
I loved almost everything about Island, and I see do see myself revisiting it. Although I have to say this. I will skip the opening sections in which Marita terminates an unwanted pregnancy. I could have done without that. Neither did the novel require it, though, I suppose it does show how things have changed in the decades since 1939.
Lizzy's Literary Life (Volume One) 
A super find indeed. I’d forgotten that there Faroes are part of Denmark. I can’t think of another novel set there, and the contrast between those who stay and those who go is fascinating in such populations. Thank you for joining in #NordicFINDS.
This does sound interesting. I’ve been living in Denmark for many years and visited the Faroes a few years ago, Afterwords i read everything i could get my hands on about it. As a Scot, i was intrigued by the Celtic links – some of the faces looked very famiiar! It reminded me very much of Orkney.
Just an aside – the Faroes, and Greenland, are indeed part of the Danish Realm, but not “part of Denmark”. That’s almost akin to calling Scotland part of England! The Faorese are very proud of their hardwon self-rule and many preferred to speak to us, a Scot and a Belgian in Engish, rather than Danish. In Greenland, the colonial legacy has only recenty begun to be unpacked, and i suspect many would consider it offensive to have their country called “part of Denmark”.
Excuse the dodgy keyboard!
I’m sure no offence was intended.
It’s all in the wording, isn’t it? Hence the differentiation between the Kingdom of Denmark and the mainland in my review. The Faroes remain part of The Kingdom of Denmark (or the Danish realm) just as Scotland remains part of the United Kingdom.
I recently came across another book that you might be interested in reading. The Land of Maybe: A Faroes Island Year by Tim Ecott. It’s on my wishlist.
Just reread, and discovered a place where I slipped up. Now corrected.
If I had 10 kroner for every time I’ve written to a Danish newspaper to moan about them conflating the UK and England…FWIW the Faroes could be considered to have ather more autonomy than Scotland, which at least gets a mention in the name of the state.
I’ve read the TIm Ecott. You might be interested in my post about it – > https://adriftindk.wordpress.com/2021/04/09/revisiting-the-faroes/
Incidentally. I follow your blog mainly for your Germastik coverage, for which big thanks! I think we must be a similar age. I spent my mid-1980s year abroad in Frankfurt.
Then you were there when I was!
I was there from 1982-83 and then from 1984-85. Were you at Bristol as well? That would be too spooky!
I was working there from 82-89. Studied earlier at London with year abroad 79-80 in Munich.
I have The Land of Maybe on my wishlist. I am fascinated by the Faroes though have never been. I’m glad you mentioned the difficult bit at the start of the book, presumably skippable if it’s not a plot point per se. It sounds very good and interesting apart from that.
You can skip the most graphic hunting sections, as I did, but if you don’t do nature writing either you’ll probably be doing Tim a misservice. Perhaps Tim’s editors will let him do a volume 2 with a broader focus.
Our local library has a copy of SRHJ’s Island, aka Ø, on the shelf, so I’ll give it a whirl at the weekend. I’m quite interested in the how and why of its translation, and where it fits into the Danish literary landscape. Am pondering a blog post, although I am a terrible draft saver!
I’m sorry, I was replying regarding Lizzy’s review of this book, Island; I would prefer to skip the part about someone terminating a pregnancy, presumably graphically. The Land of Maybe I haven’t got yet so can’t comment on it. I do read a lot of nature writing, and unfortunately hunting, not something I’m keen on myself, does come up in it from time to time, especially in places on the edge where it’s necessary – I’ve certainly encountered a fair bit in A Woman in the Polar Night, by Christine Ritter, which I’m about to finish, and some other Nordic books.