Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #49221 in Books
• Published on: 2001-09-28
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 288 pages

Synopsis
A childhood in Iceland is the background to this powerful and evocative tale. Halldor Laxness' wistfully tender novel tells the tale of Alfgrim, an abandoned child, whose mother gave birth to him in the turf-and-stone cottage of Bjom of Brekkukot, the fisherman, on the outskirts of what is now Reykjavik. It evokes his boyhood and youth, spent at his grandparents' home in the early years of the twentieth century, an hospitable place where dignified understatement was the norm and where everything from a lumpfish to a bible had a fixed price which never changed.

From the Back Cover
'It is a novel (a world) that transmits something of the wonder of life, its strangeness, its goodness, ocassions for stubbornness, and the stoicism of people - people everywhere.' Murray Bail

A tender coming of age story of a boy and a nation, dragged unwillingly into the modern world.

Abandoned as a baby, Alfgrimur is content to spend his days as a fisherman living in the turf cottage outside Reykjavik with the elderly couple he calls grandmother and grandfather. There he shares the mid-loft with a motley bunch of eccentrics and philosophers who find refuge in the simple respect for their fellow men that is the ethos at Brekkukot. But the narrow horizon's of Alfgrimur's idyllic childhood are challenged when he starts school and meets Iceland's most famous singer, the mysterious Gardar Holm. Garder encourages him to aim for the 'one true note', but how can he attain it withough leaving behind the world that he loves?

'This weird and wonderful novel ... is Laxness at his best: a reminder of the mad hilarity of the Icelandic sensibility. An unforgettable voice.' Nicholas Shakespeare

'Laxness's view of a child's bounded universe has humour and a light touch.' Isobel Montgomery, Guardian

Customer Reviews

Not Singing Enough
Having read and loved 'Independent People' I put 'The Fish Can Sing' forward to our Book Club. I found the book full of absolute gems of those small transactions of everyday life that remain with you for a long time. However, I did get frustrated with the book's lack of continuity and at times complete irrelevance. If it had been written as a series of anecdotes about the author's life it would have been far more palatable.

Having already read 'Independent People' I think I had the advantage over others in the Book Club who couldn't make head nor tail of it - only 2 other people managed to finish it. I scored it 4 out of 10 at the Book Club, and that was higher than anyone else!

Perhaps it's just the translation?

Very different from "Independent People", but just as good..
The justly famous opening sentence sums up the book's quirkiness: "...next to losing its mother, there is nothing so healthy for a child as losing its father." Alfgrímur ("Elf-guest"), the novel's narrator, has indeed lost - or at least mislaid - both his parents, and is being raised by his loving grandparents (who turn out not to be his real grandparents, or indeed married to each other) and an extraordinary but always supportive crew of archetypal Laxness characters who are boarders in his grandparents' house. During the opening chapters, we are gradually introduced to the child Alfgrímur's world: Laxness brilliantly evokes the way a child's initially limited understanding gradually deepens, so that the reader is learning the real truths behind the characters and events in Alfgrímur's Reykjavik at the same time as he himself is discovering them. This part of the book is deceptive - it can at the time feel slow-moving (though always quirkily charming), but in fact there is deeper and darker stuff going on than meets the eye.

The second half of the book becomes increasingly focussed on Alfgrímur's cousin, the internationally famous Icelandic tenor Gardar Hólm ... what, you haven't heard of him? Now, why might that be? This section of the tale suddenly and unexpectedly darkens, as Gardar's true circumstances are gradually revealed; and there are some utterly unforgettable moments - particularly Gardar's impromptu concert in the virtually empty cathedral, for the benefit of his aged and near-blind mother - this moment comes after Alfgrímur, and the reader, have been waiting all through the novel to finally hear Gardar sing, and it's undoubtedly worth the wait. The final few chapters combine high tragedy and low comedy in typical Laxness style: this is a slow-burner of a book that really blazes up towards the end.

This novel is perhaps the ideal introduction to Laxness' work - though less craggily monolithic than "Independent People", it is (for all its idiosyncrasy and charm) just as deeply serious. It is ultimately, like so many great books, about growing up - both Alfgrímur's own journey to adulthood, and his country's journey to modern, independent nationhood. Both processes involve as many losses as gains.

As usual, Magnus Magnusson gives us an unobtrusively idiomatic translation, which is a delight to read. This is an utterly unique book - highly recommended.

"The Fish Can Sing" but does the book?
"The Fish Can Sing" I purchased having recently visited Iceland. I was interested in finding out some more than my day visit allowed me about Icelandic life and culture. Laxness paints a quaint world of simplicity and good manners practised by the Icelandic people. However, as a novel, I found the beginning chapters, about the various people who visited young Alfgrimur's house, slightly monotonous and somewhat detatched from the story. It was not until about halfway through the 246 page novel that a story actual began to emerge. It is difficult not to think of the book as an autobiography or biography while reading through although the book does not sell itself as such. Laxness has managed to make a story out of what the modern, Western world would consider insignificant events and chance meetings in young Alfgrimur's life. As you can imagine, living in a small, closed community on the island of Iceland, at that time, did not make for much drama or excitement. The novel is not for those looking for pace, intrigue, mystery or suspense but is a glimpse into the recent past: the life of a young island boy who sees (and makes) adventure and discovery in the everyday things of life.