Scandinavia is the epitome of from IKEA to hygge, Hamlet to the latest bestselling crime novel, the region’s cultural influence is vast. But how valid is this outsider’s view of Scandinavia, and how accurate is our picture of life in Scandinavia today? Enter Robert Ferguson’s Scandinavians, an ambitious work of history and cultural comment that follows a chronological progression across the Northern from the Vendel era of Swedish prehistory all the way through Scandinavia’s postwar social democratic nirvana and the terror attacks of Anders Behring Beivik.Scandinavians is also a personal investigation, with award-winning author Robert Ferguson as the ideal companion as he explores wide-ranging topics such as the power and mystique of Scandinavian women, from the Valkyries to the Vikings; from Nora and Hedda to Garbo and Bergman. Employing a digressive technique that deftly “combines the factual and the intimate” (Publishers Weekly), recalling the writings of W.G. Sebald, Scandinavians provides unequaled access to the society, politics, culture and temperament of modern Scandinavia.
This book was immediately shelved as "books I couldn't stand". Given so many stellar reviews, how is this even possible? Well, first of all I am myself Scandinavian (Swedish, to be more specific) and I picked up this book because it is interesting to look at your own culture from the outside. I also thoroughly enjoyed reading about the dynamics between our three countries to such an extent that I was ready to forgive the fact that Swedish names and phrases were often misspelled or even incorrect (no, the wife of Max von Südow's character in Utvandrarna is NOT called Katarina).
The rambling style with bits of long gone conversations with various persons was at times rewarding and at times eminently irritating. In the end I kept asking myself why it took five months to finish reading this book. Was it only the style or was it something else? And then it occurred to me: This book is a man's book. Or possibly a men's book. The author does not record any conversations with Scandinavian women, only with Scandinavian men who give their points of view and with whom he argues or agrees. For example, there is a dinner conversation about literature and movies where a woman is present. At one point she is about to say something, but then she remains silent. Women are mostly observed, they (we) are objects rather than subjects. The worst moment was when he introduced the topic of strong women in Scandinavia, and began with a long reflection on Scandinavian porn and nakedness. And lo and behold, that was a large section of the entire chapter!
Other readers may object, saying for example: What about the play where Ibsen's wife and mistress discuss their lives? Actually, I appreciated that part very much; in retrospect is was one of the best parts of the book. However, such a conversation never took place, as far as we know. What about female Scandinavian writers and artists? What about women's views on culture, history and society? That would be a more important aspect of strong women than Scandinavian porn.
I'm Norwegian on both sides, the parents being cousins, and was raised in a Norwegian-speaking household, even attending pre-school in Oslo where I turned three. That ended when they built North School for the kids of the Meadowdale development in Illinois' Kane County, a rural area, a very small school which placed me, in first grade, in special education until they met my mother and learned that my speech was an accent, not a sign of retardation. With that, I subsequently refused to speak Norsk and gradually lost the ability to understand the language except as spoken by Mother.
I've been, very briefly, in Sweden and Denmark, spent a few nights in Iceland, but have only stayed in Norway, pretty much all of our relatives living in the Oslo area. Fortunately, all post-war Norwegians speak English (before that they learned German), so it's always been easy to fit in. Unlike the small U.S. contingent of the family, the European branch is pretty rich and well connected, so I've met a bunch of political figures, major industrialists, media personalities, even Thor Heyerdahl in the parking lot of his Kon Tiki Museum. Although it's been many years since my last visit, I feel more comfortable with my ersatz Norwegian identity than with my American. I'm proud of being associated with Scandinavian social democracy and with their generous social and foreign aid policies. Like Bernie has said, 'why can't we be more like Denmark?'
These prejudices led me to grab Feguson's 'Scandinavians' when it was donated to Heirloom Books in Chicago where I work most days of the week--where, in fact, I sleep most nights during this hot and humid August, the shop being climate controlled.
Ferguson, himself of British origin, migrated to Norway decades ago, learned the language, became a translator of books and film scripts, and published his own book about Viking history. This particular product is ostensibly his attempt to get at the modern Scandinavian character. Why their reputation for dark melancholy?--and, paradoxically, their regular placement at the top of the rankings of 'happiest' countries? Why their enlightened social policies? Why their pacific foreign relations?
Ferguson handles these questions with a light, often quite humorous, touch through a series of stories, stories very well told, stories about the Eddas, about Norwegian theologians, artists, playwrights and explorers, about cinema, the place of women, pornography, alcoholism, cafe culture--all within an overview of the histories of what are today Norway, Sweden, Denmark and, less so, Iceland.
I loved it! Two nights ago, comfortably, coolly abed on the short couch in our basement, listening to some Bach partitas on WFMT and immersed in this book, I was struck with a sense of well-being, a sense that caused me to reflect: 'is this being "happy"?' The answer was 'yes', so much so that I stayed up reading for more than an hour after my usual bedtime. It's been years since I was so delightedly engrossed in a book that I literally had trouble putting it down for the night.
An entertaining, humorous, and, at times, sobering personal survey of denmark, norway, and sweden (and, to a lesser extent, iceland and greenland) from a writer who has lived and/or travelled in these three countries over many decades. Ferguson knows how to mix history, culture, vikings, Nazis, runes, and melancholia, and uses the anecdotes supplied by friends (mostly from the arts) well. Ibsen and Anders Breivik, Hamsun and the two Bergmans we in the west know best, Knausgaard and Munch, kings and queens, along with many other figures less known outside scandinavia, are treated at length or invoked. So are issues like wars, mores, free speech, fitting in, socialism, and death. He has a good ear for recreating conversations and a self-deprecatory manner that allows him to make fun at his own expense. Who knew the movie Minority Report could be brought into a real life situation?
This book has style and good storytelling, essential for a rambling (but not poorly structured) book on this region. Enough evidence is given by Ferguson, through his friends, to argue against his own views about the darkness present in each country. Highly recommended.
A pleasant, intelligent and current (2016) view of Scandinavia written in "New Yorker" longform style. The award-winning author wrote the definitive biography of the Norwegian author, Knut Hamsun, and has lived in Norway for thirty years, married to a Norwegian. Ferguson drops in small personal discoveries whether he is writing about Viking boats or Scandinavian melancholy. He captures the still lingering competitiveness between Sweden, Denmark and Norway. The chapters on WWII, King Frederick VII of Denmark, emigrants and abductions are especially good. Timeline and bibliography included.
Ole A. . .William J. . .William O. . .Robert O. . .these are the four men who stand between me and my birthplace. Without their journeys, I could have landed in Holbaek, Denmark, offspring of a reformed prostitute. Confirmed through my DNA, there’s a lot of Scandinavia in me, and so when I was swiping past available library books, this book waved and once my attention was secured, folded its arms and slumped in a melancholy miasma of its very own. Once in my list, I began a new and wide-open exploration of the Scandinavian mix: Norwegian, Swedish and Danish.
Robert Ferguson gives a back history on each, the constant movement of borders, kingdoms, rulers, pillagers, changing laws and characters. Fascinating! Lots and lots of poetry, and of course, stories that land on other shores in a form we know that actually originated in Scandinavia, like Hamlet. That brooding boy was a Dane. I thought he was a lot like my uncles! Ferguson goes from the literature, to narrating cross-country trips with friends, strangers and his wife, he visits obscure yet important landmarks, explains language quirks, and shares pictures of exhumed queens (Q. Kristina to be exact, who having been buried in the 1600s doesn’t look half bad!).
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, which I must admit had the textbook density and urgency to “cover everything before they lose interest.” I will check this out again, and have maps and google handy. I’ve long been aware of my origins, but woefully ignorant of anything specific, other than an ability to sing and/or whistle “Wonderful, Wonderful Copenhagen.” As a text like book, it is a worthy re-read! As a book that is very specific, it may have limited appeal, but if you know nothing and want to know something about how the Scandinavians tick. . .both historically and currently, this book is a great place to start!
Get your Hygge on!
hyg·ge /ˈh(y)o͞oɡə,ˈho͝oɡə/ noun 1. a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being (regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture). "why not follow the Danish example and bring more hygge into your daily life?"
Some interesting history of Scandinavia is squeezed in along side many seemingly random bits and pieces, snippets of conversations, name drops and rambling neuroses of the authors internal mind. It didn't feel like this book have been properly edited somehow...it was a bit of a muddle. This led to me skimming paragraphs and hopping over sections that I found tedious.
The stuff I did manage to be held by was very good and interesting and a lot of research and reading had clearly been done, but then pops up some remark about scratching a rental car on holiday or remarking on someones marriage difficulties that really had nothing to do with the subject and certainly nothing to do with us readers!
Ferguson talks about the melancholy soul of Scandinavia and that is his original idea of the book and hoped to to express this notion in the title itself, but alas he never really finds the evidence for this and thus has to find a new title for his book. Still room for a murky, grey, brooding sky on the book cover tho, to maybe express in pictures if not words that he feels there is melancholic and a bleak darkness colouring the days of all Scandis.
I read this book because I know little about Scandinavian history and wanted to know more. The book succeeded in giving me information. I learned that when Lutheranism came to Scandinavia, other religions were banned. For many years in Sweden, residents had to become Lutheran or leave the country. That history gave me a better understanding of Scandinavians' growing discomfort, especially in Denmark, about living with large numbers of Muslim refugees who had initially been welcomed.
I learned that at the same time in the nineteenth century that the British were starving the Irish, they were starving the Norwegians during a war with Denmark. A British blockade kept agriculture-poor Norway from getting food. More than 100,000 Norwegians died. I also learned that the Nazis sent thousands of Danish police officers to concentration camps because they seemed to be a threat to the Nazi occupation. I didn't learn how many of them were killed.
Robert Ferguson, an Englishman who has lived in Scandinavia for decades, tries to find the reason for the reputed Scandinavian melancholy, and suggests that the roots of both melancholy and social democracy lie in Lutheranism. However, he says that from an early point in history, Scandinavian people lived in more roughly egalitarian societies than those in other parts of Europe. That interested me because I have read that among First Nations people in Alaska, those living in the most northerly regions were traditionally the most egalitarian. So I suppose climate may have something to do with it.
So yes, I learned enough to make large parts of the book quite worth reading. However, the author rambled a great deal, and I found his section on contemporary Scandinavia trivial. His chapter on Scandinavian women is ludicrous. Gosh, men have always seen them as sex symbols but the women are strong and have always wanted to choose their own lovers. Yes, women there could vote sooner than in other parts of Europe. The author confides that when he first came to Scandinavia he wanted to find a job working in porn flicks. That almost kept me from reading the book, but I'm glad that I read the part about history.
This book took me a very long time to read but I persevered. It is at its best when the author is relating straightforward history, like his chapters on King Frederick VII of Denmark, the Conversion of the Icelanders and World War II in Scandinavia- I learned a lot in these sections and they were enjoyable to read. Less effective for me, which was most of the book, was when the author inserted himself in the narrative - I did not find him an interesting or accomplished companion, and felt like he was elevating his position of "I'm an American who has lived in Oslo since 1986!" to a level of insider-expertise that was not convincing. Ferguson has an annoying habit of name-dropping and weaving his somewhat-pedestrian experiences in to the stories - he calls the great Swedish actor Max Von Sydow by his first name, like "the last time I saw Max...." Annoying. He also has a habit of telling some parts of his narrative as a conversation with somebody at a cafe or bar, with pages and pages of quoting somebody holding forth on a topic, which seemed strange to me as a writing technique, putting forward a perspective very unique to the teller but maybe not of interest or use to the reader. It often felt like it needed an editor to hone down the focus. I would've quit this book early, but I bought it in the Reykjavik airport and was determined to get my $s worth by getting to the end of it.
Interesting information, horrible book. Chapters weave ideas together and Ferguson doesn't connect the dots. Too much of it is extraneous detail about what he was drinking and what the bar he was in looked like when some alcoholic friend of his told him a long, detailed (almost encyclopedic!) story about some Scandinavian figure from years gone by.
When I got to the middle of the book and there was a PLAY, I was disgusted. It felt like the final straw in a book that was already darting wildly around. But it actually turned out to be one of the better parts.
Most frustrating: the book is very male-centric, and the portrayals of women are flat. His partiality for Norway, especially over Sweden, is thinly veiled. Very difficult to get through.
If you start a book with your self-centered summer of 1969, then go on to a chapter on Stones (not the Rolling Kind) you are going to lose a lot of reader. I was one of them. I tried. I really did, but by chapter three had had it. It was the topics chosen by Mr. Ferguson that did not attract me. Maybe they would someone else.
I wanted to like much more than I actually did, which is a mega bummer. The author talked about himself way too much for my liking. I also couldn't care less about poetry, plays or paintings. There goes about 60% of the book. The actual historical and sociological aspects were quite good.
In der ersten Hälfte bietet Ferguson viele spannende und informative Einblicke in die skandinavische Geschichte. In der zweiten Hälfte verläuft er sich aber zwischen persönlichen Begegnungen und seinen eigenen literarischen Interessen und verliert dabei den roten Faden aus den Augen.
An idiosyncratic view of Scandinavia. Not history; not travel; a little Norway-centric and I wouldn’t agree with the author’s premise that Scandinavians are gloomy; but this was a fascinating read.
Not a travelogue nor a history, Ferguson’s book investigates artists, philosophers, politicians and playwrights in his search for the essence of Scandinavia.
Be sure to receive the major warning in this part of the summary: "this digressive technique is familiar from the writings of W. G. Sebald..."
Boy, they are NOT KIDDING about the digressive thing. A chapter about immigrants began with a decent enough paragraph or two about the situation in Norway and then...ten pages later the only thing I've learned is about a dinner party conversation with the author's friends in the film business and some project he wasn't into and then I'm trying to remember: what was this chapter about, exactly? I'd forgotten. And I was not amused.
As other reviewers have mentioned, this is one of those "Unexpected Memoirs." Now, I like memoirs and I wouldn't mind one that also helped me understand Scandinavian culture. I was entertained long enough to get to the chapter about the Danish monarchy and Christian conversions which was FASCINATING. But this digressive technique leaving me lost in his rather boring personal memories? Nei, takk!
Beyond being a history book, this book is about culture, philosophy, and lots of introspection. As a citizen of the world currently studying in Helsingborg, within the Skåne region of Sweden, it was fascinating for me to read and know I live in the very same place the author describes. It felt like I was living the old history in the new streets of Lund, seeing the old carriages and horses replaced by the new Volvos. Perhaps my experience with the book was enhanced by this very reason but nonetheless, I recommended it to anyone with a dash of curiosity and some free time, regardless of where you live.
I had expected to read a book that focused more on the uniqueness of Scandinavian social democracy, but the book is a sprawling half-history, half-memoir about Scandinavia. The best parts of the book were those that leaned into the analysis and the history; my least favorite were the parts that became overly memoir-ish, sometimes nearly whole chapters recounted as conversations of his--always at risk of losing focus (or succeeding at it).
Starts off as a Bill Bryson like travelogue but then Ferguson adds real depth with his extensive knowledge of Scandinavian culture and history. If the book has a fault it's that it concentrates a bit too much on "highbrow" culture so you won't find the soul of the North but you will learn a lot about what makes it tick.
I came away with a better understanding of the history of the Scandinavian countries but the author had a weird writing method to do that. I found myself sighing in exhaustion at times as I muddled through it. It helped me sleep at night as I read it!
"Perhaps oddly, none of these travellers made particular mention of the melancholy that has always accompanied, shadow-like, the other image the outside world now has of Sweden, Norway, and Denmark as clean, well-lit places."
Robert Ferguson notes this in the intro when discussing the three Scandinavian countries of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway as a paradox. On the one hand, he notes their social-democratic standing, where the three countries frequently top or rival with the best countries in happiness, status of living, and the like. What Ferguson tries to delve into, however, is beyond the stereotypes of Scandinavia being a progressive paradise, with melancholic, brooding clouds. For example, he notes how Ibsen says that the Norwegians have that tendency because of their environment. These musings are interspersed with conversations with people he meets.
(And for an advance note, Scandinavia is exclusively Denmark, Sweden, and Norway. You will note Iceland mentioned only once in the first chapter--including how they converted into Christianity--and Finland is never gone into detail at all.)
My perception of Scandinavia hasn't necessarily been influenced by their melancholy; on the contrary, it's because of their seemingly happy world that they have. This is what is advocated in my country, the United States, by more progressive standards of the Democratic Party--if we could align our economic system to be like theirs, we would have a happier country and a healthier one. I also knew Scandinavia through learning some Danish, consuming from IKEA and H&M (which he surprisingly doesn't mention), and the comic series Scandinavia and the World. I also delved into Scandi pop culture through the Millenium Trilogy, their entries in Eurovision, and Occupied.
So when Ferguson writes about trying to search for the northern soul, I was curious about it. However, I went into this book thinking more of going into the history of Scandinavia, which almost made me want to quit in the first few chapters. The Stones chapter functions as a prologue, but the writing style was something I didn't get used to right away.
Despite this, there was some interesting things which I've learned about the Scandinavian countries. One of the funny anedoctes featured on how Iceland converted to Christianity... "[Thorgeir] made his way back to his booth, the tent-like summer quarters housing those attending the Althingi. When he got there he lay down on the floor and gave instructions that he was not to be disturbed on any account. Then, as both Ari the Wise and the unknown author of Kristini Saga tell us with peculiar precision, he wrapped his cloak around his head and began to think (28).
However, this led to a rather diplomatic settlement on Christianity which didn't end in bloodshed. Something which wasn't further considered when Reformation rolled around in Denmark, Sweden, and Norway.
This occasional humor also extends to when one man, Johann Friedrich Struensee, used his influence with the king and his lover, Caroline, to bring free speech to the whole kingdom. The weird situation was how Johann worked for the king, but also lusted over the king's wife too. Nevertheless, they lived in a hippy family, where Struensee "makes out a wish-list, and one by one he starts drafting a series of democratic reforms the people of Denmark freedoms unparalleled anywhere else in the world" (152) And until these rights were solidified, "a society of pre-internet trolls" (154) is what he got.
His interval play on Ibsen hesitating to recognize his illegitimate son was a curious literary choice. I certainly enjoyed it, and showed his expertise with the topic matter. It also dealt with a serious issue on doing the right thing versus what an author's job it is to do. But I find it strange to tell right in the middle of the history of Scandinavia.
If you're looking for a straightforward history of the region, this is a good book to start with, but don't expect the light and warm country to come through. The writing style also takes a while to get used to.
Ferguson, Robert. Scandinavians: In Search of the Soul of the North. The author’s interest in Scandinavia began with his reading Knut Hamsun’s novel Hunger.which inspired him to learn Norweigan and its sister tongue, Danish. He subsequently settled in Norway, where he has remained with his wife and young family. In this book Ferguson sets out to follow the thread of angst that he finds in the Scandinavian character. He frequenty cites Ibsen and Strindberg, and of course the Danish Kierkegaard, and seems to enjoy provoking heated controversy with his friends.
Other readers have been put off by Ferguson’s somewhat disorganised narrative, which includes many random episodes and even a mock play entitled ‘Ibsen’s Ghosts,’ but I found these personal idiosyncrasies on the whole entertaining and stimulating. Some of the anecdotes carry a hint of genuine novelistic power, especially those of his long walk with his friend, the artist Erling, who spent his childhood in Argentina and was then abandoned and virtually drank himself to death. Erling was, unlike Ferguson, a believer in the next world, but one who nevertheless needed the comfort of whisky and a soul-mate to listen.
Erling is an intelligent and learned man, one who loves jazz and although a compulsive drinker who has forgotten all bout his doctorate, he loves to talk, especially to one eager to learn. So Ferguson in his early days was a gift to Erling: ‘everything about the culture and the country was new and exotic to me. I was still thrilled beyond measure.’ One aspect of the culture that his friend insists on correcting is the notion of Norway being ‘a classless society’: ‘They probably told you over there, your Norweigian teachers, that there’s no class system here in Norway. They probably boast about how we abolished the aristocracy back in 1821. Not true, my England man. There are classes here, upper class, middle class, working class, just like there are everywhere. He goes on to cite examples, mentioning how the same names the keep appearing. Embittered perhaps, but with an element of truth too.
Ferguson’s book is far from being a detailed political or social history or an account of the landscape of the Scandinavian area; on the contrary, it is proud to be a personal and eccentric scrap book seeking to probe, as its subtitle makes clear, the soul of the North. An impossible task, but nonetheless an exhilarating read.
Contrary to what might be assumed by the subtitle “In Search of the Soul of the North,” this is not an exhaustive study of Scandinavianness. Rather, it is more accurately described as a sort of Nordic miscellany, an exploration rather than an examination of the cultural gestalt that is Scandinavia.
As such, the content wanders freely wherever the author wills it. As he clearly has a predilection for drama, film, and literature, much of the book focuses on these aspects. There’s plenty of material here on Knut Hamsun, Ingmar Bergman, and Henrik Ibsen; the author even composed and included a short play to illustrate a late-life Ibsen confronting an incident from his youth. It is a tactic I’ve never encountered before in a history book, but I confess I found the technique to be illuminating in a way that straight biography can’t quite achieve. Hooray for the power of literature!
While the short play did not disturb the flow of the book or feel at all out of place, there is a chapter about World War II that oddly feels forced in. The tone of the narrative loses is dreamlike quality and shifts to a journalistic, somewhat dry style, almost as if the author had decided that he MUST, at all costs, include some honest-to-goodness history in this history book of his, and finishing the chapter has the feeling of having read an assignment. Perhaps one of Mr. Ferguson’s lit friends made him do it on a dare.
Not to worry: there is plenty of information about Vikings, stone circles, and, of course, the Eddas. The author clearly loves his adopted home, and reading this feels like a personal journey to express his own devotion, much in the style of Bill Bryson or Simon Winder. Mr. Ferguson, who first arrived in Norway as an exchange student, often muses on his good fortune that he found his home in this northern land, stating simply in the end that, after his year of study, “I stayed on.”
I picked this up in Stockholm and was initially very impressed with the conversational tone, chatty good-humour, and knowledgeable anecdotes. Ferguson is very aware of the cultural scene in Norway and Sweden - writers and dramatists especially - and wastes few opportunities to connect his themes to anecdotes, stories, and other illuminating details. His themes are also wide-ranging, if you read the table of contents. What a great book!
However, the more time you spend with this book, the fewer dimensions it reveals. Ferguson's major fascination is with the idea of Scandinavian melancholy, on the subject of which he wanted to devote a long book. This is and is not that book, but he sure goes on about it - and lets his conversational partners go on about it. I'm... not especially keen on the theme as developed by Ferguson here, though maybe if it was the focus it would have been more clear and more interesting. In counterpoint, the arguments of his Scandinavian interlocutors to refute the idea of an inherent melancholy are much more convincing.
Second, and really more frustrating, is the resolutely masculine tenor of the book. When women come up, they do so as the literary creations or romantic entanglements of men. Ferguson talks most to men. He thinks mostly of men. Once in a while, his wife comes up - always mute. Once in a while, the wife of one of his interlocutors comes up - often in some kind of unhappy circumstance. For a few hundred pages it's fine but when the chapter on strong women starts with a description of pornography, it's all I could do not to leave the book entirely. More Gro Harlem Brundtland, please!
Those flaws considered, I still found the book interesting. In the English world, texts like this one are rare.
I did not enjoy the book as much as expected, it felt like the author was at times going in circles, the style of describing historic moments and switching to personal conversations made it harder to focus on the topic at hand. I was expecting a more thorough argumentation of the author's view of Scandinavian culture, linked with specific examples. Instead, the style felt more like a collection of short stories, giving the reader a history lesson and letting them draw their own conclusions on what may define the Scandinavian soul. I was looking for something different, a more clearly stated personal opinion of a foreigner. In the end, from my reading experience, not that many traits revealed themselves to be unique to these northern countries. Firstly there is the equality between men and women and consequently the social freedom that women enjoyed from as early as the 900s compared to women in other countries at the time. Secondly, there is the indulgent legal system allowing prisoners greater freedom of expression and much shorter jail time - a focus on reintegration as opposed to retribution. Thirdly, there is the explorer's spirit, especially in what concerns the arctic expeditions and seafaring. Last but not least, there is a certain melancholy, a focus on the negative aspects of life, when looking at many painters, philosophers, writers, an attitude perhaps influenced by living in a dark, scarcely populated, snowy place? It was enjoyable to find out historic facts and get an opinion of the modern natives as well, but I would have preferred a more analytic approach and deeper dive into the psychology of northern people.
In a way I feel that I shouldn't add any stars since I haven't actually read every page of this book. It is very detailed - too detailed sometimes for me, despite being Scandinavian - but the chapters I read carefully, I liked. Ferguson's writing style is philosophical at times and his own experiences that are interspersed add an interesting layer. It'd be interesting to discuss with him in person :-)
Some things startled me a bit. He writes about the failed hot air balloon trip to the North Pole in the late 19th century and does not seem to have taken into account the latest research on this and on why the participants died, carried out by Bea Uusma (read her super interesting book The Expedition).
The other thing, more startling, relates to the murder of Swedish Prime Minister Olof Palme in 1986. It has never been solved and is a scar in Sweden. One person, Pettersson, was charged with the murder in the early 1990s but aquitted on appeal. Ferguson writes that 'The overwhelming majority of Swedes, including those with close knowledge of the case, remain convinced that Pettersson was the killer' (page 404). This is a baffling statement and is categorically untrue. Many, many 'hobby researchers' of the case have said for decades that he is not the killer. In fact, I struggle to find anyone with close knowledge of the case who is convinced (see various web sites/discussions/books published over the past decade, as well as the closure of the case by the police not long ago, referring to another person who was 'highly suspicious' but who is now dead).
So this brings down my impression. The less facts based writings are still nice to read and ponder.
3.5. I was looking for a history book (where this was shelved) but it's more of a loose collection of random history anecdotes tied together by the author's experience living in Scandinavia. Pleasant read overall, but not quite what I wanted.
Pros: - really interesting anecdotes chosen -- eg story of Struensee, the story of the failed balloon guy, the story about the prisoners and the play -- possibly not normally what would be included in a "summary" of a history of a nation/geopolitical area - there's something warm and welcoming about the author's writing and his description of his life; you kind of would like to be him or his friend - the breadth of coverage time-wise (ie. pre-vikings to modern day), as well as the detail he goes into, provides a nice but "fun" overview of Scandinavian history; you also get glimpses of depth beyond the things that aren't explicitly discussed, which in a way, makes the feeling of Scandinavia as evoked by this book more 'real'
Cons: - not quite history book, not quite memoir - not sure what ties everything together other than the personality of the author; for instance, he goes on at various times about trying to find out why Scandinavians are stereotyped as melancholic, but this doesn't really go anywhere; in fact, it seems like a lot of his thought bubbles, while interesting, don't end up anywhere -- and it's easy to forget given all the stuff in this book - there's a random play in the middle about Ibsen; while it wasn't bad, it felt pointless -- got the strong impression it was a vanity thing
I've romaticised my Scandinavian heritage since I was a child and my grandmother told me stories of her grandparents who sailed to NY from Oslo (regularly, as he was a ship's captain or something) and settled in a Harlem brownstone. At 14 I got my first set of Marimekko bedsheets and discovered the artwork of Carl Larson through greeting cards sold at our village gift shop in Kinderhook, NY (a Dutch settlement - but they are also great sailors). I listened to Grieg, watched Bergmann, and obviously added to my ABBA collection, at least until the London music scene took over. But the aesthetic and the mythology stayed on, and on, until the day it manifested in a flat full of tasteful Scandi designer furniture and textiles.
I bought this book with a view of balancing my "nordicist romanticism" with a more informed perspective drawn from the history, religion, philosophy, art, music, literature and film of Scandinavia. A few crimes and, thankfully, just a little football. I wasn't disappointed, but nor was I cured of my fascination amd admiration of the place. Ferguson is delightful, pulling themes together and diverting into present day conversations with local intelligentsia, mainly over drinks. "History isn't always what you think it was", he quotes thoughtfully, and he blurs the dull time line of history books with stories and conversations from other times that overlay different filters on events. If history is a set of stories, then Ferguson knows how to tell them. Skål!
Ferguson is a Brit who moved to Norway in 1983, married a Norwegian and writes about the place. This book is nominally about the character of Scandinavians; are they the dark melancholics of popular impression or what? The book starts out with a bang as he reviews the history and mlyths of Viking peoples. The area was not part of the medieval feudal lord system and the local warriors maintained a great deal of individual power. While the boys were away looting and pillaging the women ran the farm and were also very tough and individualistic. When Protestantism took hold with an emphasis on individual salvation, no priestly help, it strengthened the lonely, reflective attributes of the isolated farmers. Maybe this is the origin of the Scandinavian character. Or maybe it’s a myth created by a handful of 19th century artists like Ibsen and Strindberg and carried on by Bergman. In my opinion, the book bogs down into a lot of bloviating by contemporary writers, artists and intellectuals who the author drinks with, about details of the lives of other mostly obscure Scandinavian intellectuals. Ferguson has studied and written a great deal about Ibsen so we get a lot of that; frankly, a bit more than I cared to know. The first part is good though.