One way to ensure a fertile soil is tilling it anew and growing other crops. Einar Kárason takes well known and chronicled events in Icelandic history and creates something different. The style of the Icelandic sagas trades on the characters deeds and utterances. In Einar Kárason´s books we hear the never uttered soliloquies, the internal fuming, musings and plotting of those very same characters, going along their fated path.
Einar´s undertaking in Skáld (Poet) is brilliant. In this last novel of his trilogy about 13th century Iceland he continues to bring intimacy, even humor, to the fabled characters. Underneath lays the proposition that his main protagonist, Sturla Þórðarson, was the one to write Njáls Saga, the perhaps greatest of the Sagas, whose author is hitherto unknown. Njáls Saga was written about events two to three hundred years earlier but likely written in the 13th century. Sturla Þórðarson is already the reputed writer or chronicler of Sturlunga Sagas, a compendium of contemporary events. Here, eight centuries later, Einar Kárason wants to show that it was also Sturla Þórðarson who had the means and the motives to write Njáls Saga. Skáld supports the claim.
13th century saw harrowing events in Iceland. There were bloody battles, murders and mayhem. There was a burning of a farm during a siege and people were burned inside. Powerful families feuded for supremacy in a society without an executive power, leading to the relinquishing of sovereignty to the Norwegian king. This time is often referred to as Sturlungaöld (the Age of the Sturlungas) after a West Iceland clan. That family was one of powerbrokers. It was also under the auspices of that same family that most of the great Norse literature was collected and created. The most famous of that family is Snorri Sturluson, the uncle of Sturla Þórðarson, the latter being the protagonist of Skáld, but the former featuring as well.
What the novel SHOWS (this is never spoken in plain words) is how it would have been from this terrible burden of intimate knowledge of events from too close a proximity that the idea of writing Njáls Saga, would have taken hold. In Njáls Saga, too, is the feuding, the escalation, the characters, the tragedies, replenished with the burning of Njáll´s farm and the people within. Sturla knew the topics, Sturla was a writer. His furtive writings of Njála carries the narrative thrust of Skáld.
The second of the trilogy, Ofsi (Fury) is actually about the13th century Flugumýrarbrenna (the burning of the farm Flugumýri) (see my review). Ofsi is a very successfully written book, with a flawless tempo and crescendo. To be trapped in those characters minds feels painfully real; they are so believable.
For whatever reason, deadline to publish or lack of sagacious editing, Skáld is not as good as it could be. The underpinnings are solid but the finish feels rushed. What we later realize as Sturla´s undertaking could be clearer. The characters all sound the same, simple and earnest. Odd drinking problems are stand-ins for the main character’s creative humdrums. Timeline is unnecessarily messed up. I wish it had had more time; after all were dealing with a scope of a millenary here. But who am I to complain when what I am offered is something so extraordinary.