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Looking for the Hidden Folk: How Iceland's Elves Can Save the Earth
In exploring how Icelanders interact with nature—and their idea that elves live among us—Nancy Marie Brown shows us how altering our perceptions of the environment can be a crucial first step toward saving it.
Icelanders believe in elves.
Why does that make you laugh?, asks Nancy Marie Brown in this wonderfully quirky exploration of our interaction with nature. Looking for answers in history, science, religion, and art—from ancient times to today—Brown finds that each discipline defines what is real and unreal, natural and supernatural, demonstrated and theoretical, alive and inert. Each has its own way of perceiving and valuing the world around us. And each discipline can be defined, in the Icelandic perception, by its own sort of elf.
Illuminated by her own encounters with Iceland’s Otherworld—in ancient lava fields, on a holy mountain, beside a glacier or an erupting volcano, crossing the cold desert at the island’s heart on horseback—Looking for the Hidden Folk offers an intimate conversation about how we look at and find value in nature. It reveals how the words we use and the stories we tell shape the world we see. It argues that our beliefs about the Earth will preserve—or destroy it.
Scientists name our time the the Human Age. Climate change will lead to the mass extinction of numerous animal species unless we humans change our course. Iceland suggests a different way of thinking about the Earth, one that offers hope. Icelanders believe in elves— and you should, too.
Icelanders believe in elves.
Why does that make you laugh?, asks Nancy Marie Brown in this wonderfully quirky exploration of our interaction with nature. Looking for answers in history, science, religion, and art—from ancient times to today—Brown finds that each discipline defines what is real and unreal, natural and supernatural, demonstrated and theoretical, alive and inert. Each has its own way of perceiving and valuing the world around us. And each discipline can be defined, in the Icelandic perception, by its own sort of elf.
Illuminated by her own encounters with Iceland’s Otherworld—in ancient lava fields, on a holy mountain, beside a glacier or an erupting volcano, crossing the cold desert at the island’s heart on horseback—Looking for the Hidden Folk offers an intimate conversation about how we look at and find value in nature. It reveals how the words we use and the stories we tell shape the world we see. It argues that our beliefs about the Earth will preserve—or destroy it.
Scientists name our time the the Human Age. Climate change will lead to the mass extinction of numerous animal species unless we humans change our course. Iceland suggests a different way of thinking about the Earth, one that offers hope. Icelanders believe in elves— and you should, too.
328 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 4, 2022
91 people are currently reading
1601 people want to read
About the author
Nancy Marie Brown
23 books217 followersMy books combine extremes: Science and sagas. Science and faith. History and fantasy. They ask, What have we overlooked? Whose story must not be forgotten? For 20 years, I worked as a science writer at Penn State University. Now I write from a farm in Vermont, where the days are quiet and cool. Icelandic horses graze outside my windows, and every summer I travel to Iceland in search of adventure--and inspiration.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 109 reviews
February 4, 2023
This was a Christmas present from my mom, who knows I love cold places and folklore and the relationship between landscape and belief. Let's start out with the good: Brown is passionate about Iceland and its people. The chapters that actually address huldufólk and Icelandic history are interesting and compelling. Unfortunately... I hated the remaining two-thirds of the book.
Unsupported by comprehensive research beyond the author's many visits to "my island," it reads as subjective and unfocused, the tales cherry-picked. I felt as though I was being led not by an expert, but a person who feels possessive about a place that is not her own. An entire chapter is dedicated to chastising Rebecca Solnit for having a different experience in Iceland despite also encountering a person that Brown befriended in the '80s. I'm not sure her failure to develop an enduring relationship with that person is actually a failure; I am sure that it's not relevant to the supposed topic of this book.
I can guess who the "farmer who spoke only Icelandic" might be, since I have been friends with the farmer at Helgafell, Hjortur Hinriksson, for thirty-five years. It's something he would do, give a stranger a lift. If Solnit had tried a few words of Icelandic on him [...] he would have tried to speak with her. I know, because I did and he spoke with me.
Reader, I cringed.
As a sort of unconscious sociological document, this book is fascinating. I think we all know what it's like to be possessive of an idea, a thing, a place; to incorporate it into our self-perception, our very identity; to Have Feelings when we recognize that others have their own relationships, different but no less valid, with it. Brown expresses a sense of affront to those other relationships that struck me as both disproportionate and bizarre.
It's not always easy returning to real life. For although my island that likes to be visited is "real"—it's on the map, you can fly to it—my island is not the island you will likely find.
The tension here between a place where real people live and love and die, struggle and thrive, and the place that exists in Brown's head — and in this book — is palpable. Her relationship with Iceland is long and rich. She has exported its ponies, visited it dozens of time (n.b. some major unacknowledged underlying financial privilege), explored and loved its terrain and people. But it's a jealous, fractious love, critical of other perspectives. Even in quoting saga scholar ("and writer of romance novels") Carol Hoggart, whose 2010 paper influenced Brown's perspective on stories, is described as though she's committed an affront (emphasis below is mine):
For saga pilgrims like me, says Hoggart, rather dismissively, "The terrain is seen positively to glow with an identity sourced from medieval texts."
My complaints are many, but the other I want to highlight here is utter astonishment that Brown has made a living as a science writer. In the third chapter, "Otherworlds," she asks a question that recurs throughout the book: what does it mean for something to be real? Why are we inclined to dismiss those who believe in elves but accept the concept of gravity? Her answer, "because science," leads to a weird summary of other people's pop-science explanations of quantum mechanics for laypeople. It's as though she read and quoted two secondary sources, alongside Wikipedia, in order to write a chapter on the multiverse and dark matter.
We all know the truism about writing what you know, and I wish she'd done that here, rather than attempting poor secondhand explanations of concepts she's not clear on. This is a shame — she is right to center our understanding of reality throughout this book, and it would be fascinating to look at both elves and "science" as explanatory frameworks for our experience of being in the world. It is crucial for us to realize that both our old and current explanations are full of the unknown. Knowledge and belief are both essential parts of consciousness.
It's funny — despite finding this book chaotic and disappointing, I think I'd be willing to give one of Brown's other works, especially those on the sagas, a shot. She is attuned to the relationship between words and land, the way the landscape comes to life through the familiar language of the sagas, just as the sagas come to life through the landscape. She quotes Robert Macfarlane and Nan Shepherd and Ursula Le Guin. (Those quotes are more beautifully written than the rest of the book. I would describe Brown as a serviceable writer.)
Alas, I can't recommend this to anyone. Try Gretel Ehrlich's This Cold Heaven for a poetic and less fraught account of a relationship with a cold land. Try reading the sagas, or compilations of Iceland folklore. But give this one a miss.
Unsupported by comprehensive research beyond the author's many visits to "my island," it reads as subjective and unfocused, the tales cherry-picked. I felt as though I was being led not by an expert, but a person who feels possessive about a place that is not her own. An entire chapter is dedicated to chastising Rebecca Solnit for having a different experience in Iceland despite also encountering a person that Brown befriended in the '80s. I'm not sure her failure to develop an enduring relationship with that person is actually a failure; I am sure that it's not relevant to the supposed topic of this book.
I can guess who the "farmer who spoke only Icelandic" might be, since I have been friends with the farmer at Helgafell, Hjortur Hinriksson, for thirty-five years. It's something he would do, give a stranger a lift. If Solnit had tried a few words of Icelandic on him [...] he would have tried to speak with her. I know, because I did and he spoke with me.
Reader, I cringed.
As a sort of unconscious sociological document, this book is fascinating. I think we all know what it's like to be possessive of an idea, a thing, a place; to incorporate it into our self-perception, our very identity; to Have Feelings when we recognize that others have their own relationships, different but no less valid, with it. Brown expresses a sense of affront to those other relationships that struck me as both disproportionate and bizarre.
It's not always easy returning to real life. For although my island that likes to be visited is "real"—it's on the map, you can fly to it—my island is not the island you will likely find.
The tension here between a place where real people live and love and die, struggle and thrive, and the place that exists in Brown's head — and in this book — is palpable. Her relationship with Iceland is long and rich. She has exported its ponies, visited it dozens of time (n.b. some major unacknowledged underlying financial privilege), explored and loved its terrain and people. But it's a jealous, fractious love, critical of other perspectives. Even in quoting saga scholar ("and writer of romance novels") Carol Hoggart, whose 2010 paper influenced Brown's perspective on stories, is described as though she's committed an affront (emphasis below is mine):
For saga pilgrims like me, says Hoggart, rather dismissively, "The terrain is seen positively to glow with an identity sourced from medieval texts."
My complaints are many, but the other I want to highlight here is utter astonishment that Brown has made a living as a science writer. In the third chapter, "Otherworlds," she asks a question that recurs throughout the book: what does it mean for something to be real? Why are we inclined to dismiss those who believe in elves but accept the concept of gravity? Her answer, "because science," leads to a weird summary of other people's pop-science explanations of quantum mechanics for laypeople. It's as though she read and quoted two secondary sources, alongside Wikipedia, in order to write a chapter on the multiverse and dark matter.
We all know the truism about writing what you know, and I wish she'd done that here, rather than attempting poor secondhand explanations of concepts she's not clear on. This is a shame — she is right to center our understanding of reality throughout this book, and it would be fascinating to look at both elves and "science" as explanatory frameworks for our experience of being in the world. It is crucial for us to realize that both our old and current explanations are full of the unknown. Knowledge and belief are both essential parts of consciousness.
It's funny — despite finding this book chaotic and disappointing, I think I'd be willing to give one of Brown's other works, especially those on the sagas, a shot. She is attuned to the relationship between words and land, the way the landscape comes to life through the familiar language of the sagas, just as the sagas come to life through the landscape. She quotes Robert Macfarlane and Nan Shepherd and Ursula Le Guin. (Those quotes are more beautifully written than the rest of the book. I would describe Brown as a serviceable writer.)
Alas, I can't recommend this to anyone. Try Gretel Ehrlich's This Cold Heaven for a poetic and less fraught account of a relationship with a cold land. Try reading the sagas, or compilations of Iceland folklore. But give this one a miss.
February 27, 2023
The subtitle of this book is: How Iceland’s Elves Can Save the Earth. Elves? Cool. I pre-ordered the audiobook expecting something magical, something folklorish, something about elves. Silly me. This book covers a lot of ground, but most of it is not about elves.
It possibly ought to have been subtitled “Why I love Iceland,” because it was half a travel documentary, half everything but the kitchen sink that had to do with Iceland. The author jumped around from elvish seers, lava fields, quantum physics, Icelandic folklore, Icelandic sagas, witches, the act of seeing, volcanos, volcanic documentaries, magical mountains, J.R.R. Tolkein, and farmhouse construction. That’s just what I remember off the top of my head. The narrator’s voice was calm and pleasant to listen to. Unfortunately, I listened to most of this book on my commute to and from work and since her tone was so soothing, I didn’t retain a lot of the information coming at me. And there was a ton of information. The author is obviously knowledgeable about her subject, having visited there 30-some times. I figure she must have been Icelandic in at least one past life.
It was an interesting listen, but not remotely what I was expecting. If I had wanted a survey on Iceland, I’d be rating it higher because there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this book - except for the synopsis luring in unsuspecting listeners who want to hear about elves. In fact, the last line of the synopsis intimates that if we all believed in elves like Icelanders do, we could save the earth from climate change. While there are several studies presented that suggest a portion of Icelanders believe in elves, it’s hardly the majority of the country. In fact, elvish seers (those who can see elves) seem to be scoffed at. The author admits to rolling her eyes at one the first time she met her. Hardly a convincing argument that elves are real and should be taken seriously.
If you’re looking for a general study on Iceland, pick this up. If you want something magical about elves, you might be disappointed.
It possibly ought to have been subtitled “Why I love Iceland,” because it was half a travel documentary, half everything but the kitchen sink that had to do with Iceland. The author jumped around from elvish seers, lava fields, quantum physics, Icelandic folklore, Icelandic sagas, witches, the act of seeing, volcanos, volcanic documentaries, magical mountains, J.R.R. Tolkein, and farmhouse construction. That’s just what I remember off the top of my head. The narrator’s voice was calm and pleasant to listen to. Unfortunately, I listened to most of this book on my commute to and from work and since her tone was so soothing, I didn’t retain a lot of the information coming at me. And there was a ton of information. The author is obviously knowledgeable about her subject, having visited there 30-some times. I figure she must have been Icelandic in at least one past life.
It was an interesting listen, but not remotely what I was expecting. If I had wanted a survey on Iceland, I’d be rating it higher because there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this book - except for the synopsis luring in unsuspecting listeners who want to hear about elves. In fact, the last line of the synopsis intimates that if we all believed in elves like Icelanders do, we could save the earth from climate change. While there are several studies presented that suggest a portion of Icelanders believe in elves, it’s hardly the majority of the country. In fact, elvish seers (those who can see elves) seem to be scoffed at. The author admits to rolling her eyes at one the first time she met her. Hardly a convincing argument that elves are real and should be taken seriously.
If you’re looking for a general study on Iceland, pick this up. If you want something magical about elves, you might be disappointed.
December 29, 2022
I felt like I was reading a high schooler's research paper. It was all over the place and really not that much info about the elves in there. I did pick out a few books she mentioned and added them to my TBR. Hopefully they are better.
January 17, 2024
Ughhhh
Never longed so much for a thesis statement in a book. You'd think the subtitle would suffice, but nope. I imagine this book disappoints readers of all sorts. If you're expecting ecological reflection via cultural history—it's not that. If you're expecting creative non-fiction examining the natural world alongside folklore/mythology—it's not that. If you're expecting an Icelandic memoir/manifesto about embracing wider sensory sources of knowledge and wonder-it's not that.
Maybe it's attempting to be those things, but its meandering and overstuffed prose never self-identifies any purpose whatsoever. Chapters, anecdotes, and themes drip drip drip like melting icicles but freeze immediately—nothing flows here. Smarter readers than I will do the work to learn beforehand that the author is not Icelandic, which wouldn't necessarily be a problem at all, except that we are subjected to multiple decades' worth of the author's journal entries of all the times and all the ways she's visited Iceland. That could be fine too, but every anecdote seems merely to reveal how welcome the author has assumed herself to be in every foreign space (and home) she enters, with endless mentions of the numerous (hundreds?) of farmers, land owners, and passersby who told her she was now part of their family/welcome anytime. It all came across as obliviously intrusive and arrogant—perhaps highlighting how gracious and forbearing Icelanders really can be with Americans hiking in their backyard.
The book's attempt to examine the nature and importance of wonder, and the interesting (but ineffectively explored) point that doubting the existence of elves has a flawed premise when viewed from literary, philosophical, and scientific interpretive perspectives, is poorly structured and haphazardly argued. Most of the text is quotes of quotes of quoted texts, many with no attempt whatsoever to reference the primary source. An egregious example being when Brown discusses the concept of I and Thou, crediting it to an archeology text, with no mention of Martin Buber anywhere!
Any insights that manage to reach the surface in this confusing, repetitive, and navel-gazing text are the result of other authors' being quoted in paragraph-long chunks.
You may come looking for creative engagement with the cultural significance and/or ecological import of Iceland's relationship to "the hidden folk" but you'll leave feeling far more angry at how boring this book was than it probably deserves.
Never longed so much for a thesis statement in a book. You'd think the subtitle would suffice, but nope. I imagine this book disappoints readers of all sorts. If you're expecting ecological reflection via cultural history—it's not that. If you're expecting creative non-fiction examining the natural world alongside folklore/mythology—it's not that. If you're expecting an Icelandic memoir/manifesto about embracing wider sensory sources of knowledge and wonder-it's not that.
Maybe it's attempting to be those things, but its meandering and overstuffed prose never self-identifies any purpose whatsoever. Chapters, anecdotes, and themes drip drip drip like melting icicles but freeze immediately—nothing flows here. Smarter readers than I will do the work to learn beforehand that the author is not Icelandic, which wouldn't necessarily be a problem at all, except that we are subjected to multiple decades' worth of the author's journal entries of all the times and all the ways she's visited Iceland. That could be fine too, but every anecdote seems merely to reveal how welcome the author has assumed herself to be in every foreign space (and home) she enters, with endless mentions of the numerous (hundreds?) of farmers, land owners, and passersby who told her she was now part of their family/welcome anytime. It all came across as obliviously intrusive and arrogant—perhaps highlighting how gracious and forbearing Icelanders really can be with Americans hiking in their backyard.
The book's attempt to examine the nature and importance of wonder, and the interesting (but ineffectively explored) point that doubting the existence of elves has a flawed premise when viewed from literary, philosophical, and scientific interpretive perspectives, is poorly structured and haphazardly argued. Most of the text is quotes of quotes of quoted texts, many with no attempt whatsoever to reference the primary source. An egregious example being when Brown discusses the concept of I and Thou, crediting it to an archeology text, with no mention of Martin Buber anywhere!
Any insights that manage to reach the surface in this confusing, repetitive, and navel-gazing text are the result of other authors' being quoted in paragraph-long chunks.
You may come looking for creative engagement with the cultural significance and/or ecological import of Iceland's relationship to "the hidden folk" but you'll leave feeling far more angry at how boring this book was than it probably deserves.
June 17, 2023
Do you remember those old “I Spy” children’s books where there would be a detailed picture of some scene, complete with hundreds of fascinating little objects, stories, and Easter Eggs? They would would say “I spy a…” and you’d have to search for some object?
Well, this book is a lot like that. The “scene” is a pseudo-anthropological examination of Iceland, and the the thing you must “spy” is the point.
An entertaining read if you like non-academic Anthropology and/or Iceland. Basically a series of anecdotes (or perhaps just random notes) about stuff the author is interested in. They are loosely tied together by their shared focus on the importance of “elves” (e.g., spirituality, myths, folklore, stories, nature, the unexplainable).
Just like the “I Spy” books, this book is full of fascinating ideas. I just wish it had more of a direct focus. Instead, it leaves the readers confused by randomly jumping between Volcanos, Tolkien, Hume, Einstein, the Author’s travels, Japan, Vikings, Ecology, Witches, Psychology, God, Anthropology, etc. (Yes, “etc.” ‼️😵💫)
As the author writes in her acknowledgements, the book was born from “the collection of travel essays I had been working in for many years.” In this way, it’s a love letter to Iceland and Folklore in general.
It’s a shame that her publishers probably forced her to put the “How Iceland’s Elves Can Save The Earth” tagline on the book to fool readers (like me) into thinking this would somehow be about climate change.
Well, this book is a lot like that. The “scene” is a pseudo-anthropological examination of Iceland, and the the thing you must “spy” is the point.
An entertaining read if you like non-academic Anthropology and/or Iceland. Basically a series of anecdotes (or perhaps just random notes) about stuff the author is interested in. They are loosely tied together by their shared focus on the importance of “elves” (e.g., spirituality, myths, folklore, stories, nature, the unexplainable).
Just like the “I Spy” books, this book is full of fascinating ideas. I just wish it had more of a direct focus. Instead, it leaves the readers confused by randomly jumping between Volcanos, Tolkien, Hume, Einstein, the Author’s travels, Japan, Vikings, Ecology, Witches, Psychology, God, Anthropology, etc. (Yes, “etc.” ‼️😵💫)
As the author writes in her acknowledgements, the book was born from “the collection of travel essays I had been working in for many years.” In this way, it’s a love letter to Iceland and Folklore in general.
It’s a shame that her publishers probably forced her to put the “How Iceland’s Elves Can Save The Earth” tagline on the book to fool readers (like me) into thinking this would somehow be about climate change.
November 11, 2023
DnF
What a letdown. The title and description sounded promising, but the actual result was all over the place. There was no structure. No focus. Just a woman recording her time in Iceland and trying to sell the story to recoup her travel costs.
Ok maybe she did some research, but it was light. There were heavy descriptions on people she met and what they were wearing. Random tangents about Tolkein and Einstein.
What a letdown. The title and description sounded promising, but the actual result was all over the place. There was no structure. No focus. Just a woman recording her time in Iceland and trying to sell the story to recoup her travel costs.
Ok maybe she did some research, but it was light. There were heavy descriptions on people she met and what they were wearing. Random tangents about Tolkein and Einstein.
February 5, 2023
Looking For The Hidden Folk by Nancy Marie Brown was so interesting we learned about Iceland‘s history and their history with elves and Faye folk. As well as her many trips to the country and things she experienced while there. I love reading about stuff like this and was not disappointed with this audiobook. I thought the narration was good and the information definitely interesting. Even if you have a passing interest in the topic I think you would find this book interesting she talks about the many beliefs of the Icelanders and the links they will go to protect a creature most don’t even believe in God as I said all of it was so interesting and I’m glad I listen to this audiobook. I received it from NetGalley and the publisher but I am leaving this review voluntarily please forgive any mistakes as I am blind and dictate my review.
January 14, 2023
A Big Book…in so many ways…
I stumbled across this marvelous book, while looking for something entirely different. The title lured me in. (That, and a longtime obsession with Iceland.) But the title is deceptive. Yes, there are elves and trolls. And Icelandic history and culture. And volcanoes. (And a lot of really long, consonant-stuffed names.)But there is also the human brain, and how it works to create our “reality.” And how our present reality is shaped by our commodification of nature, aka Capitalism, to the detriment of our lives and our planet. It is a plea for the return of our innate spirituality and magical thinking. Our connection to wonder. It does not require belief in elves. But it does require an opening, a shift, in our perceptions. This is a powerful book. A Big Book, in all aspects. Highly recommended.
I stumbled across this marvelous book, while looking for something entirely different. The title lured me in. (That, and a longtime obsession with Iceland.) But the title is deceptive. Yes, there are elves and trolls. And Icelandic history and culture. And volcanoes. (And a lot of really long, consonant-stuffed names.)But there is also the human brain, and how it works to create our “reality.” And how our present reality is shaped by our commodification of nature, aka Capitalism, to the detriment of our lives and our planet. It is a plea for the return of our innate spirituality and magical thinking. Our connection to wonder. It does not require belief in elves. But it does require an opening, a shift, in our perceptions. This is a powerful book. A Big Book, in all aspects. Highly recommended.
December 21, 2022
I think this is categorized as a travel book, and wherever it was I found a recommendation about this book, I know it said sort of a travel book. It is not a travel book. It is about Iceland, but I don't see how that makes it a travel book. It sort of a history book. I think it is far more a religion or mythology book, but both those words have connotations, that don't necessarily apply. The main thesis of the book in my opinion is why do we make fun of people in Iceland who believe in elves, and why is it a belief as opposed to knowing. This is where is sort of goes to religion. I thought the book was interesting, but I think I would have gotten more out of it if I knew more about Icelandic or even Scandinavian mythology or folklore. That is part of the reason I gave it two stars because there was just so much introduced I could barely follow or remember what the author had referred to a couple of chapters before. It could have been better organized also. One of my issues with the book is probably not the fault of the author in that the subtitle is how the elves can save the Earth. The last quarter of the book vaguely goes into that idea, but it is so subtle that it is really not there. Certainly there is no good (or even bad) argument made about this idea. It seems to be more about elves and respecting the Earth, but that is about it.
November 6, 2022
I felt like this book was all over the place.
September 6, 2024
History of Iceland and the hidden people that reside there. Through firsthand stories and historical lore handed down through the centuries and of how the government still protects the sacred areas where they live and examples of why. Very thoroughly researched.
Had hoped for more magic and more on how elves could save the earth, but did get much out of it, so I’m happy.
Had hoped for more magic and more on how elves could save the earth, but did get much out of it, so I’m happy.
October 14, 2023
First half of the book seemed mostly prattle, an author writing just to write. Then, at least it seemed to me, about half way through she began telling a consistent story regarding volcanoes, history of the island, and the concept of the hidden folk and mythology of the culture. Of course in such a landscape as Iceland’s myth plays an important role. She also tells a wonderfully tragic story of an elf family accosted by a Christian priest in an effort to bring Christianity to the island, and describes excellently the great error and sin of Christianity; that of the de-sanctification of the natural world, the personification of evil, the diminishing of their own all powerful all good god, and the abhorrent concept the that the world is a resource not a relationship for our self indulgent use.
Other than that excellent expression I found her a bit too new-agey for my taste.
Other than that excellent expression I found her a bit too new-agey for my taste.
December 7, 2023
"MY Iceland is different from YOUR Iceland, you simply wouldn't get it and I pity you." - this author, basically.
Very disjointed narrative and not much relation to the title. It reminds me of a concept I learned about recently: a Commonplace book, a collection of the owner's favorite quotes on a subject. It does not a readable book maketh. I had such a weird sense that Brown was reluctant to share her experiences and incredibly jealous over them, which is a weird stance to take when no one is forcing you to write the book. Other reviews suggest more readers than I picked up on this vibe.
Some pretty prose about landscape, time, and imagination.
Very disjointed narrative and not much relation to the title. It reminds me of a concept I learned about recently: a Commonplace book, a collection of the owner's favorite quotes on a subject. It does not a readable book maketh. I had such a weird sense that Brown was reluctant to share her experiences and incredibly jealous over them, which is a weird stance to take when no one is forcing you to write the book. Other reviews suggest more readers than I picked up on this vibe.
Some pretty prose about landscape, time, and imagination.
July 12, 2024
3.5 stars. I liked it but it also put me to sleep very effectively. A rambling around Iceland and literature and vague ideas about elves and other faerie folk. If there was a point made about how these ideas could save the world I’m afraid I might’ve fallen asleep and missed it.
December 9, 2024
очікувала трошки іншого від книги: скажімо так, більш фольклорного досліження через покоління. натомість це дуже мила книга про подорожі авторки Ісландією, але на жаль мене не зачепило достатньо щоб дочитати.
June 28, 2024
“Do you believe in elf stories?”
I loved the premise of the book and read it more quickly than I typically read non-fiction because I am so fascinated by Iceland’s stories—- and I needed to prepare for my upcoming travels to Iceland. I particularly found the connection of Iceland’s hidden folk to indigenous people particularly appealing because Iceland’s geography and evidence of geological forces historically has caused a deeper connection to nature. Sadly, as Iceland further joins the global community, the modern generation becomes less connected. Luckily, when Iceland gained independence they already started the process of recording their vast collection of Icelandic sagas which recount Iceland’s history (including stories of a monastery that supposedly existed for over 350 years, but its remnants are yet to be found!). Upon settlement, Iceland had no indigenous people and most of its citizens today trace ancestry back to Danish or Nordic lineage, and, for most of its history, they were not a sovereign nation. The sagas are crucial to their story because it representative of their personal history.
As much as I enjoyed the stories, I found the author’s insertions of her opinions insufferable. Her continual reminders that she traveled to Iceland over 19 times far exceeded the amount of times she traveled there. Also, she researched a vast amount of resources for her book but openly criticized them as reliable. Please keep your annoying opinions out of the narrative - you lost all credibility.
I loved the premise of the book and read it more quickly than I typically read non-fiction because I am so fascinated by Iceland’s stories—- and I needed to prepare for my upcoming travels to Iceland. I particularly found the connection of Iceland’s hidden folk to indigenous people particularly appealing because Iceland’s geography and evidence of geological forces historically has caused a deeper connection to nature. Sadly, as Iceland further joins the global community, the modern generation becomes less connected. Luckily, when Iceland gained independence they already started the process of recording their vast collection of Icelandic sagas which recount Iceland’s history (including stories of a monastery that supposedly existed for over 350 years, but its remnants are yet to be found!). Upon settlement, Iceland had no indigenous people and most of its citizens today trace ancestry back to Danish or Nordic lineage, and, for most of its history, they were not a sovereign nation. The sagas are crucial to their story because it representative of their personal history.
As much as I enjoyed the stories, I found the author’s insertions of her opinions insufferable. Her continual reminders that she traveled to Iceland over 19 times far exceeded the amount of times she traveled there. Also, she researched a vast amount of resources for her book but openly criticized them as reliable. Please keep your annoying opinions out of the narrative - you lost all credibility.
February 11, 2025
This was an absolute bummer.
The book title and subtitle were really what drew me to this book, and it quite literally has hardly anything to do with the book itself.
The author was pretty frustrating throughout most of this. Her thoughts are chaotically put onto paper and jump around to things that have no purpose for the book we think we are getting. She's definitely obsessed with Iceland and claims it as hers on occasion and the way she talks about it really rubs in her financial privilege (like being able to just drop everything and fly to Iceland when a volcano erupts).
This would be better described as the author's experiences in Iceland.
So if you're looking for something that feels as magical as the title, you won't find it here.
The book title and subtitle were really what drew me to this book, and it quite literally has hardly anything to do with the book itself.
The author was pretty frustrating throughout most of this. Her thoughts are chaotically put onto paper and jump around to things that have no purpose for the book we think we are getting. She's definitely obsessed with Iceland and claims it as hers on occasion and the way she talks about it really rubs in her financial privilege (like being able to just drop everything and fly to Iceland when a volcano erupts).
This would be better described as the author's experiences in Iceland.
So if you're looking for something that feels as magical as the title, you won't find it here.
December 15, 2024
Very much enjoyed the book, as my grand grandfather was born in Iceland, and I feel a kinship with the country. I started the book with a very scientific frame of mind, thinking it was ridiculous to believe in elves. And I ended the book in a place where I’m not so sure. There are other worlds that we don’t know about, and science has no place in them. I would like to keep my mind open and learn more. This book has encouraged me to develop the intuitive side of my mind. I have been to Iceland four times. I may go again, and sit next to a rock, and try to communicate with an elf living there.
January 10, 2023
Having been to Iceland, I found parts of it a good reminder of Iceland’s uniqueness. Yes, the book is quirky and “all over the place.” But it also challenges us to consider, what is reality? And what does it mean to “believe?” Good questions to ponder—even if the book’s narrative isn’t linear, which seems to make some reviewers uncomfortable.
March 26, 2023
A nice introduction to a fascinating world.
September 18, 2024
Exceptionally woven stories, science, theology, and semiotics.
August 6, 2025
This book was fabulous! I was pleasantly surprised by the wide range of topics it covered that went way beyond elves and nature and into Icelandic culture and folklore. Loved the audio version.
March 7, 2023
It was a good insight into Iceland and the Norwegian folk lore.
Definitely makes me want to visit.
Definitely makes me want to visit.
January 30, 2023
WoW - loved this one! After reading the library book, I ran out and bought a copy - will be reading again and again 😀👍
“Does anyone really know what ‘to believe’ means? Or is ‘belief,’ like ‘elf,’ simply a convenient vessel to pour our thoughts into?”
“They are a symbol to me of the door that is not a door to the Otherworld that is not another world.”
“Does anyone really know what ‘to believe’ means? Or is ‘belief,’ like ‘elf,’ simply a convenient vessel to pour our thoughts into?”
“They are a symbol to me of the door that is not a door to the Otherworld that is not another world.”
February 11, 2023
I wanted to love this book, but it fell really short of my expectations. It was all over the place, and I still haven’t figured out if it told me how Iceland’s elves would save the world.
November 1, 2022
I really enjoyed this book so much. I've always wanted to go and see Iceland, but this book made me want to even more. The history, the tales, the connections with nature, everything really drew me in.
January 8, 2024
The subtitle of this book is very misleading, I found this had not much at all to do with environmentalism. It didn’t flow well and topics jumped all over the place.
I found myself pretty annoyed with the author, who comes off as a privileged American tourist that would prefer to be considered an expert on Iceland. She admits to having no sense of place in relation to her home, despite spending pages explaining why sense of place is important to the environmental movement. She has brought Icelandic horses and dogs home with her on one of her more than 15 different trips to the island, so it was just personally difficult for me to relate to her worldview. Not everyone can afford the lifestyle she is suggesting in her book.
She seemed quite judgmental at times in a range of topics from throwing shade at another American travel writer that didn’t the have the same experience as her in Iceland and therefore didn’t truly know “her island” as well to complaining about people who consider LotR to be too difficult for children to focus on (despite Tolkien being well-known for over-descriptive prose about landscape) because HER 8-year old had no problem being read and enjoying his works multiple times.
Ultimately, this book read more like a love letter to Iceland and JRR Tolkien, comparing everything possible to elves, than a science book (but that’s on me for assuming it was one to begin with). For a travel blog, this is a decent book and I now very much want to visit Iceland some day, I would love to have the opportunity to see many of the awesome places described in this book.
I found myself pretty annoyed with the author, who comes off as a privileged American tourist that would prefer to be considered an expert on Iceland. She admits to having no sense of place in relation to her home, despite spending pages explaining why sense of place is important to the environmental movement. She has brought Icelandic horses and dogs home with her on one of her more than 15 different trips to the island, so it was just personally difficult for me to relate to her worldview. Not everyone can afford the lifestyle she is suggesting in her book.
She seemed quite judgmental at times in a range of topics from throwing shade at another American travel writer that didn’t the have the same experience as her in Iceland and therefore didn’t truly know “her island” as well to complaining about people who consider LotR to be too difficult for children to focus on (despite Tolkien being well-known for over-descriptive prose about landscape) because HER 8-year old had no problem being read and enjoying his works multiple times.
Ultimately, this book read more like a love letter to Iceland and JRR Tolkien, comparing everything possible to elves, than a science book (but that’s on me for assuming it was one to begin with). For a travel blog, this is a decent book and I now very much want to visit Iceland some day, I would love to have the opportunity to see many of the awesome places described in this book.
December 30, 2024
I hate when the subtitles of books overpromise on their content. This one was “how Iceland’s elves can help save the world” and I thought it would be something about how the folklore of Iceland and its belief in the embodiment of living creatures could help us understand the world better. But the thesis and argument of the subtitle never emerged and it felt more like half an academic paper with lots of citations and half her explanation of her love of Iceland. Disappointing
Edited to add: a subtitle sets the expectation for what a book will contain. For me, that expectation is the frame which I take to reading the book and is always in the back of mind. When it doesn’t materialize, it feels like I was misled. (And I’ve had a few of these recently so maybe I’m a bit touchy about it)
Edited to add: a subtitle sets the expectation for what a book will contain. For me, that expectation is the frame which I take to reading the book and is always in the back of mind. When it doesn’t materialize, it feels like I was misled. (And I’ve had a few of these recently so maybe I’m a bit touchy about it)
April 6, 2024
Absolutely magical!
April 27, 2023
Because a friend and her husband travelled to Iceland and hiked the green and the barren places, and the waterfalls, and shared photos, and because she also mentioned specifically the Hidden Folk in a general way, this title caught my eye. I wanted to learn more about them.
When I sat down today to share thoughts, I discovered that I had placed 25 bookmarks at passages that I enjoyed; passages that I thought to memorialize in what I think of as my Goodreads notes. This is how I both remember what I have read -- by entering the fact of having read he book and by including passages, excerpts.
It is nine days since I have finished Looking for Hidden Folk, and I have read two additional books since, plus am halfway through two others. Lacking an independent memory of specifics, the bookmarks confirm that I loved the back, the thoughts, and Nancy Marie Brown's choice of words.
And so, the first passage (pp. 58-59) --
What is a story? It is a way to make sense of the chaos of existence. [This leads into thoughts shared by S. Leonard Rubenstein, the author's Penn State creative writing teacher, describing the "chaos of existence."] "We can be clear about confusion, It is wild, random energy, " he says in Writing: A Habit of Mind. "We can use that energy. we can convert it into force. We can make it into sense. Writing makes sense. It makes experience into form." He defines experience:
We are born and we die. An unbroken line stretches from one to the other. Yet we are able to say, "I had a strange experience the other day." What enables us to take a segment of that unbroken line and call it an experience? What enables us to make a point on the line and call it the start? What enables us to make a point and call it the end? . . . Any instant in your life consists of an infinity of stimuli. If you were to register and react to every stimulus in that simultaneous, endless number, you would go crazy, you would be crazy, you would explode, you would disintegrate, you would evaporate. To survive, we select.
To survive, we remember some things and forget others.
And the stories we tell based on those memories reflect---and shape---how we interact with the world around us. The stories we tell protect a place, or permit its destruction.
And the last bookmarked pages (252-253), which happen to be the final pages of the book:
In a dual-language book (What Does it Take to See An Elf? written by Frodi the elf) given the author by the first person mentioned in LFTHF, Ragnhildur Jonsdottir an activist and a writer and a friend who did not mention trolls or hidden folk on their early visits had written at page 2 --
To see us elves, you only need three things: A touch of joy in your heart, a permission from the grown up inside of you to allow your inner child to "go out and play," and an elf willing to be seen.
. . . . .
I turned to page 3 of Frodi's book. What does it take to see an elf? Nothing too esoteric, it turns out. "Find a rock you feel drawn to. Sit down and be comfortable.: Look at the rock. Notice its shape, its texture. Is there moss growing on it? Or lichen? are there any other plants around? What colors are they? Do they have a smell? Do you feel the breeze? Are there any sounds? Did you see a movement out of the corner of your eye? Keep still and wait---it might be an elf coming out to play. "Allow yourself to enjoy the adventure."
But here's the passage that finally opened my eyes: "It is also fine if you think all this is imaginary."
At the start of the book, we learn that the activist Ragnhildur, with many others, diverted the path of a highway in order to accommodate the home for some elves; that local lore (or truth) tells of elves whose deeds distressed usurpers who threatened their homes and families. In the pages between, she speaks of how your view of the world colors the stories you tell and the life you live; we read of legends and myths and scientific studies; there are allusions to Barack Obama and current events and figures and ancient ones, philosophers and religion (We don't see God; we don't see elves -- yet we believe in one and not the other.)
When I sat down today to share thoughts, I discovered that I had placed 25 bookmarks at passages that I enjoyed; passages that I thought to memorialize in what I think of as my Goodreads notes. This is how I both remember what I have read -- by entering the fact of having read he book and by including passages, excerpts.
It is nine days since I have finished Looking for Hidden Folk, and I have read two additional books since, plus am halfway through two others. Lacking an independent memory of specifics, the bookmarks confirm that I loved the back, the thoughts, and Nancy Marie Brown's choice of words.
And so, the first passage (pp. 58-59) --
What is a story? It is a way to make sense of the chaos of existence. [This leads into thoughts shared by S. Leonard Rubenstein, the author's Penn State creative writing teacher, describing the "chaos of existence."] "We can be clear about confusion, It is wild, random energy, " he says in Writing: A Habit of Mind. "We can use that energy. we can convert it into force. We can make it into sense. Writing makes sense. It makes experience into form." He defines experience:
We are born and we die. An unbroken line stretches from one to the other. Yet we are able to say, "I had a strange experience the other day." What enables us to take a segment of that unbroken line and call it an experience? What enables us to make a point on the line and call it the start? What enables us to make a point and call it the end? . . . Any instant in your life consists of an infinity of stimuli. If you were to register and react to every stimulus in that simultaneous, endless number, you would go crazy, you would be crazy, you would explode, you would disintegrate, you would evaporate. To survive, we select.
To survive, we remember some things and forget others.
And the stories we tell based on those memories reflect---and shape---how we interact with the world around us. The stories we tell protect a place, or permit its destruction.
And the last bookmarked pages (252-253), which happen to be the final pages of the book:
In a dual-language book (What Does it Take to See An Elf? written by Frodi the elf) given the author by the first person mentioned in LFTHF, Ragnhildur Jonsdottir an activist and a writer and a friend who did not mention trolls or hidden folk on their early visits had written at page 2 --
To see us elves, you only need three things: A touch of joy in your heart, a permission from the grown up inside of you to allow your inner child to "go out and play," and an elf willing to be seen.
. . . . .
I turned to page 3 of Frodi's book. What does it take to see an elf? Nothing too esoteric, it turns out. "Find a rock you feel drawn to. Sit down and be comfortable.: Look at the rock. Notice its shape, its texture. Is there moss growing on it? Or lichen? are there any other plants around? What colors are they? Do they have a smell? Do you feel the breeze? Are there any sounds? Did you see a movement out of the corner of your eye? Keep still and wait---it might be an elf coming out to play. "Allow yourself to enjoy the adventure."
But here's the passage that finally opened my eyes: "It is also fine if you think all this is imaginary."
At the start of the book, we learn that the activist Ragnhildur, with many others, diverted the path of a highway in order to accommodate the home for some elves; that local lore (or truth) tells of elves whose deeds distressed usurpers who threatened their homes and families. In the pages between, she speaks of how your view of the world colors the stories you tell and the life you live; we read of legends and myths and scientific studies; there are allusions to Barack Obama and current events and figures and ancient ones, philosophers and religion (We don't see God; we don't see elves -- yet we believe in one and not the other.)
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