quotes by Halldór Kiljan Laxness
(showing 1- 20 of 27)
"Like all great rationalists you believed in things that were twice as incredible as theology."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
"But he could not help it. No one can help it. One is a realist. One has put up with it all ever since childhood; one has had the courage to look it full in the eye, possibly courage enough to look it in the eye all one's life long. Then one day the distances beckon with their floating possibilities, and in one's hands are the admission tickets, two slips of blue paper. One is a realist no longer. One has finished putting up with it all, one no longer has the courage to look it in the eye, one is in the power of beckoning hospitable distances, floating possibilities, perhaps forever afterwards. Perhaps one's life is over."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Independent People)
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Independent People)
"The undersigned pointed out that nothing was required of a pastor except that he intimate in church at the dead man's bier his date of birth and date of death and thereafter say some little prayer or other, even if it were only the Lord's Prayer; and finally sprinkle the State's three spadefuls of earth with the statutory innocent phrases, Earth to earth, etc., as is the custom.
Pastor Jon Primus: That's not so innocent as it looks. It derives from those scholastics. They were always doing their utmost to falsify Aristotle, though he was quite bad enough already. They tried to feed the fables with yet more fables, such as that the primary elements of matter first disintegrate and then reassemble to resurrect. They lied so fast in the Middle Ages they hadn't even time to hiccup. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
Pastor Jon Primus: That's not so innocent as it looks. It derives from those scholastics. They were always doing their utmost to falsify Aristotle, though he was quite bad enough already. They tried to feed the fables with yet more fables, such as that the primary elements of matter first disintegrate and then reassemble to resurrect. They lied so fast in the Middle Ages they hadn't even time to hiccup. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
"Now pastor Jon Primus laughed. Philosophy and theology have no effect on him, much less plain common sense. Impossible to convince this man by arguments. But humour he always listens to, even though it be ill humour. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
"'Because no one of us lives for himself and no one dies for himself. For if we live, then we live for the Lord; and if we die, then we die for the Lord. Therefore whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.'
Pastor Jon Primus to himself: That's rather good.
With that he thrust the manual into his cassock pocket, turned towards the coffin, and said:
That was the formula, Mundi. I was trying to get you to understand it, but it didn't work out; actually it did not matter. We cannot get round this formula anyway. It's easy to prove that the formula is wrong, but it is at least so right that the world came into existence. But it is a waste of words to try to impute to the Creator democratic ideas or social virtues; or to think that one can move Him with weeping and wailing, and persuade Him with logic and legal quibbles. Nothing is so pointless as words. The late pastor Jens of Setberg knew all this and more besides. But he also knew that the formula is kept in a locker. The rest comes by itself. The Creation, which includes you and me, we are in the formula, this very formula I have just been reading; and there is no way out of it. Because no one lives for himself and so on; and whether we live or die, we and so on.
You are annoyed that demons should govern the world and that consequently there is only one virtue that is taken seriously by the newspapers: killings.
You said they had discovered a machine to destroy everything that draws breath on earth; they were now trying to agree on a method of accomplishing this task quickly and cleanly; preferably while having a cocktail. They are trying to break out of the formula, poor wretches. Who can blame them for that? Who has never wanted to do that?
Many consider the human being to be the most useless animal on earth or even the lowest stage of evolution in all the universe put together, and that it is more than high time to wipe this creature out, like the mammoth in the tundras. We one knew a war maiden, you and I. There was only one word ever found for her: Ua. So wonderful was this creation that it's no exaggeration to say that she was completely unbearable; indeed I think that we two helped one another to destroy her, and yet perhaps she is still alive. There was never anything like her.
...
In conclusion I, as the local pastor, thank you for having participated in carrying the Creation on your shoulders alongside me."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
Pastor Jon Primus to himself: That's rather good.
With that he thrust the manual into his cassock pocket, turned towards the coffin, and said:
That was the formula, Mundi. I was trying to get you to understand it, but it didn't work out; actually it did not matter. We cannot get round this formula anyway. It's easy to prove that the formula is wrong, but it is at least so right that the world came into existence. But it is a waste of words to try to impute to the Creator democratic ideas or social virtues; or to think that one can move Him with weeping and wailing, and persuade Him with logic and legal quibbles. Nothing is so pointless as words. The late pastor Jens of Setberg knew all this and more besides. But he also knew that the formula is kept in a locker. The rest comes by itself. The Creation, which includes you and me, we are in the formula, this very formula I have just been reading; and there is no way out of it. Because no one lives for himself and so on; and whether we live or die, we and so on.
You are annoyed that demons should govern the world and that consequently there is only one virtue that is taken seriously by the newspapers: killings.
You said they had discovered a machine to destroy everything that draws breath on earth; they were now trying to agree on a method of accomplishing this task quickly and cleanly; preferably while having a cocktail. They are trying to break out of the formula, poor wretches. Who can blame them for that? Who has never wanted to do that?
Many consider the human being to be the most useless animal on earth or even the lowest stage of evolution in all the universe put together, and that it is more than high time to wipe this creature out, like the mammoth in the tundras. We one knew a war maiden, you and I. There was only one word ever found for her: Ua. So wonderful was this creation that it's no exaggeration to say that she was completely unbearable; indeed I think that we two helped one another to destroy her, and yet perhaps she is still alive. There was never anything like her.
...
In conclusion I, as the local pastor, thank you for having participated in carrying the Creation on your shoulders alongside me."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
"There is no more terrifying experience for a Christian than to discover he has suddenly become a rationalist. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
"Pastor Jon: The Ua who came is not the one who went away. Because in the first place Ua cannot go away, and in the second place she cannot come back. She doesn't come back because she didn't go away. Ua remained with me, as I told you when we met here in the shed for the first time. She didn't remain just outwardly but above all within myself. Who could take your mother away from you? How could your mother leave you? What's more, she is closer to you the older you become and the longer it is since she died.
...
Pastor Jon: There is no other Ua than the one who has always lived with me and never gone from me for a single moment. She is closer to me than the flower of the field and the light of the glacier, because she is fused with my own breath. The one thing that remains is what lives deepest within yourself, even though you glide from one galaxy to another. Nothing can change that. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
...
Pastor Jon: There is no other Ua than the one who has always lived with me and never gone from me for a single moment. She is closer to me than the flower of the field and the light of the glacier, because she is fused with my own breath. The one thing that remains is what lives deepest within yourself, even though you glide from one galaxy to another. Nothing can change that. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
"Pastor Jon: It is pleasant to listen to the birds chirping. But it would be anything but pleasant if the birds were always chirping the truth. Do you think the golden lining of this cloud we see up there in the atmosphere is true? But whoever isn't ready to live and die for that cloud is a man bereft of happiness.
Embi: Should there be lyrical fantasies, then, instead of justice?
Pastor Jon: Agreement is what matters. Otherwise everyone will be killed.
Embi: Agreement about what?
Pastor Jon: It doesn't matter. For instance quick-freezing plants, no matter how bad they are. When I repair a broken lock, do you then think it's an object of value or a lock for some treasure chest? Behind the last lock I mended there was kept one dried skate and three pounds of rye meal. I don't need to describe the enterprise that owns a lock of that kind. But if you hold that earthly life is valid on the whole, you repair such a lock with no less satisfaction than the lock for the National Bank where people think the gold is kept. If you don't like this old, rusty, simple lock that some clumsy blacksmith made for an insignificant food-chest long ago, then there is no reason for you to mend the lock in the big bank. If you only repair machinery in quick-freezing plants that pay, you are not to be envied for your role.
Embi: What you say, pastor Jon, may be good poetry, but unfortunately has little relevance to the matter I raised with you--on behalf of the ministry.
Pastor Jon: Whoever doesn't live in poetry cannot survive here on earth. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
Embi: Should there be lyrical fantasies, then, instead of justice?
Pastor Jon: Agreement is what matters. Otherwise everyone will be killed.
Embi: Agreement about what?
Pastor Jon: It doesn't matter. For instance quick-freezing plants, no matter how bad they are. When I repair a broken lock, do you then think it's an object of value or a lock for some treasure chest? Behind the last lock I mended there was kept one dried skate and three pounds of rye meal. I don't need to describe the enterprise that owns a lock of that kind. But if you hold that earthly life is valid on the whole, you repair such a lock with no less satisfaction than the lock for the National Bank where people think the gold is kept. If you don't like this old, rusty, simple lock that some clumsy blacksmith made for an insignificant food-chest long ago, then there is no reason for you to mend the lock in the big bank. If you only repair machinery in quick-freezing plants that pay, you are not to be envied for your role.
Embi: What you say, pastor Jon, may be good poetry, but unfortunately has little relevance to the matter I raised with you--on behalf of the ministry.
Pastor Jon: Whoever doesn't live in poetry cannot survive here on earth. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
"Embi: And you're supposed to be so good at mending primuses, pastor Jon!
Pastor Jon: And correspondingly bad at Baroque art.
Embi: How do you know there are 133 pieces? Who has had time to dismantle this work of art so carefully? Or to count the bits?
Pastor Jon: No one is so busy that he hasn't the time to dismantle a work of art. Then scholars wake up and count the pieces. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
Pastor Jon: And correspondingly bad at Baroque art.
Embi: How do you know there are 133 pieces? Who has had time to dismantle this work of art so carefully? Or to count the bits?
Pastor Jon: No one is so busy that he hasn't the time to dismantle a work of art. Then scholars wake up and count the pieces. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
"The tyranny of mankind; it was like the obstinate drip of water falling on a stone and hollowing it little by little; and this drip continued, falling obstinately, falling without pause on the souls of the children."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Independent People)
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Independent People)
"He did not know what to say in the face of such sorrow. He sat in silence by his sister's side in the spring verdure, which was too young; and the hidden strings in his breast began to quiver; and to sound.
This was the first time that he had ever looked into the labyrinth of the human soul."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Independent People)
This was the first time that he had ever looked into the labyrinth of the human soul."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Independent People)
"He continued on, on to the glacier, towards the dawn, from ridge to ridge, in deep, new-fallen snow, paying no heed to the storms that might persue him. As a child he had stood by the seashore at Ljósavík and watched the waves soughing in and out, but now he was heading away from the sea. "Think of me when you are in glorious sunshine." Soon the sun of the day of resurrection will shine on the bright paths where she awaits her poet.
And beauty shall reign alone."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (World Light)
And beauty shall reign alone."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (World Light)
"Bishop: No verifying! If people tell lies, that's as may be. If they've come up with some credo or other, so much the better! Don't forget that few people are likely to tell more than a small part of the truth: no one tells much of the truth, let alone the whole truth. Spoken words are facts in themselves, whether true or false. When people talk they reveal themselves, whether they're lying or telling the truth.
Embi: And if I find them out in a lie?
Bishop: Never speak ill of anyone in a report. Remember, any lie you are told, even deliberately, is often a more significant fact than a truth told in all sincerity."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
Embi: And if I find them out in a lie?
Bishop: Never speak ill of anyone in a report. Remember, any lie you are told, even deliberately, is often a more significant fact than a truth told in all sincerity."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
"This was the first time that he has ever looked into the labyrinth of the human soul. He was very far from understanding what he saw. But what was of more value, he felt and suffered with her. In years that were yet to come, he relived this memory in song, in the most beautiful song this world has known. For the understanding of the soul's defencelessness, of the conflict between the two poles, is not the source of the greatest song. The source of the greatest song is sympathy."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Independent People (Panther))
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Independent People (Panther))
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"Pastor Jon:...God has the virtue that one can locate Him anywhere at all, in anything at all.
Embi: In a nail, for instance?
Pastor Jon, verbatim: In school debates the question was sometimes put whether God was not incapable of creating a stone so heavy that He couldn't lift it. Often I think the Almighty is like a snow bunting abandoned in all weathers. Such a bird is about the weight of a postage stamp. Yet he does not blow away when he stands in the open in a tempest. Have you ever seen the skull of a snow bunting? He wields this fragile head against the gale, with his beak to the ground, wings folded close to his sides and his tail pointing upwards; and the wind can get no hold on him, and cleaves. Even in the fiercest squalls the bird does not budge. He is becalmed. Not a single feather stirs.
Embi: How do you know the bird is the Almighty, and not the wind?
Pastor Jon: Because the winter storm is the most powerful force in Iceland, and the snow bunting is the feeblest of all God's conceptions. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
Embi: In a nail, for instance?
Pastor Jon, verbatim: In school debates the question was sometimes put whether God was not incapable of creating a stone so heavy that He couldn't lift it. Often I think the Almighty is like a snow bunting abandoned in all weathers. Such a bird is about the weight of a postage stamp. Yet he does not blow away when he stands in the open in a tempest. Have you ever seen the skull of a snow bunting? He wields this fragile head against the gale, with his beak to the ground, wings folded close to his sides and his tail pointing upwards; and the wind can get no hold on him, and cleaves. Even in the fiercest squalls the bird does not budge. He is becalmed. Not a single feather stirs.
Embi: How do you know the bird is the Almighty, and not the wind?
Pastor Jon: Because the winter storm is the most powerful force in Iceland, and the snow bunting is the feeblest of all God's conceptions. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
"A wise man once said that next to losing its mother, there is nothing more healthy for a child than to lose its father."
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (The Fish Can Sing)
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (The Fish Can Sing)
"Dr. Syngmann: I am talking about the only quality that was worth creating the world for, the only power that is worth controlling.
Pastor Jon: Ua?
Dr. Syngmann in a tired, gravelly bass: I hear you mention once more that name which is no name. I know you blame me; I blame myself. Ua was simply Ua. There was nothing I could do about it. I know you have never recovered from it, John. Neither have I.
Pastor Jon: That word could mean everything and nothing, and when it ceased to sound, it was as if all other words had lost their meaning. But it did not matter. It gradually came back.
Dr. Syngmann: Gradually came back? What did?
Pastor Jon: Some years ago, a horse was swept over the falls to Godafoss. He was washed ashore, alive, onto the rocks below. The beast stood there motionless, hanging his head, for more than twenty-four hours below this awful cascade of water that had swept him down. Perhaps he was trying to remember what life was called. Or he was wondering why the world had been created. He showed no signs of ever wanting to graze again. In the end, however, he heaved himself onto the riverbank and started to nibble.
Dr. Syngmann: Only one thing matters, John: do you accept it?
Pastor Jon: The flower of the field is with me, as the psalmist said. It isn't mine, to be sure, but it lives here; during the winter it lives in my mind until it resurrects again.
Dr. Syngmann: I don't accept it, John! There are limits to the Creator's importunacy. I refuse to carry this universe on my back any longer, as if it were my fault that it exists.
Pastor Jon: Quite so. On the other hand, I am like that horse that was dumbfounded for twenty-four hours. For a long time I thought I could never endure having survived. Then I went back to the pasture. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
Pastor Jon: Ua?
Dr. Syngmann in a tired, gravelly bass: I hear you mention once more that name which is no name. I know you blame me; I blame myself. Ua was simply Ua. There was nothing I could do about it. I know you have never recovered from it, John. Neither have I.
Pastor Jon: That word could mean everything and nothing, and when it ceased to sound, it was as if all other words had lost their meaning. But it did not matter. It gradually came back.
Dr. Syngmann: Gradually came back? What did?
Pastor Jon: Some years ago, a horse was swept over the falls to Godafoss. He was washed ashore, alive, onto the rocks below. The beast stood there motionless, hanging his head, for more than twenty-four hours below this awful cascade of water that had swept him down. Perhaps he was trying to remember what life was called. Or he was wondering why the world had been created. He showed no signs of ever wanting to graze again. In the end, however, he heaved himself onto the riverbank and started to nibble.
Dr. Syngmann: Only one thing matters, John: do you accept it?
Pastor Jon: The flower of the field is with me, as the psalmist said. It isn't mine, to be sure, but it lives here; during the winter it lives in my mind until it resurrects again.
Dr. Syngmann: I don't accept it, John! There are limits to the Creator's importunacy. I refuse to carry this universe on my back any longer, as if it were my fault that it exists.
Pastor Jon: Quite so. On the other hand, I am like that horse that was dumbfounded for twenty-four hours. For a long time I thought I could never endure having survived. Then I went back to the pasture. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
"Those who deck themselves out in stolen gods are not viable. "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
"Dr. Syngmann: ...But someone must have made it all. Don't you think so, John?
Pastor Jon: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and so on, said the late pastor Lens.
Dr. Syngmann: Listen, John, how is it possible to love God? And what reason is there for doing so? To love, is that not the prelude to sleeping together, something connected with the genitals, at its best a marital tragedy among apes? It would be ridiculous. People are fond of their children, all right, but if someone said he was fond of God, wouldn't that be blasphemy?
Pastor Jon once again utters that strange word 'it' and says: I accept it.
Dr. Syngmann: What do you mean when you say you accept God? Did you consent to his creating the world? Do you think the world as good as all that, or something? This world! Or are you all that pleased with yourself?
Pastor Jon: Have you noticed that the ewe that was bleating outside the window is now quiet? She has found her lamb. And I believe that the calf here in the homefield will pull through.
Dr. Syngmann: I know as well as you do, John, that animals are perfect within their limits and that man is the lowest rung in the reverse-evolution of earthly life: one need only compare the pictures of an emperor and a dog to see that, or a farmer and the horse he rides. But I for my part refuse to accept it.
Pastor Jon Primus: To refuse to accept it--what is meant by that? Suicide or something?
Dr. Syngmann: At this moment, when the alignment with a higher humanity is at hand, a chapter is at last beginning that can be taken seriously in the history of the earth. Epagogics provide the arguments to prove to the Creator that life is an entirely meaningless gimmick unless it is eternal.
Pastor Jon: Who is to bell the cat?
Dr. Syngmann: As regards epagogics, it is pleading a completely logical case. In six volumes I have proved my thesis with incontrovertible arguments; even juridically. But obviously it isn't enough to use cold reasoning. I take the liberty of appealing to this gifted Maker's honour. I ask Him--how could it ever occur to you to hand over the earth to demons? The only ideal over which demons can unite is to have a war. Why did you permit the demons of the earth to profess their love to you in services and prayers as if you were their God? Will you let honest men call you demiurge, you, the Creator of the world? Whose defeat is it, now that the demons of the earth have acquired a machine to wipe out all life? Whose defeat is it if you let life on earth die on your hands? Can the Maker of the heavens stoop so low as to let German philosophers give Him orders what to do? And finally--I am a creature you have created. And that's why I am here, just like you. Who has given you the right to wipe me out? Is justice ridiculous in your eyes? Cards on the table! (He mumbles to himself.) You are at least under an obligation to resurrect me! "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)
Pastor Jon: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and so on, said the late pastor Lens.
Dr. Syngmann: Listen, John, how is it possible to love God? And what reason is there for doing so? To love, is that not the prelude to sleeping together, something connected with the genitals, at its best a marital tragedy among apes? It would be ridiculous. People are fond of their children, all right, but if someone said he was fond of God, wouldn't that be blasphemy?
Pastor Jon once again utters that strange word 'it' and says: I accept it.
Dr. Syngmann: What do you mean when you say you accept God? Did you consent to his creating the world? Do you think the world as good as all that, or something? This world! Or are you all that pleased with yourself?
Pastor Jon: Have you noticed that the ewe that was bleating outside the window is now quiet? She has found her lamb. And I believe that the calf here in the homefield will pull through.
Dr. Syngmann: I know as well as you do, John, that animals are perfect within their limits and that man is the lowest rung in the reverse-evolution of earthly life: one need only compare the pictures of an emperor and a dog to see that, or a farmer and the horse he rides. But I for my part refuse to accept it.
Pastor Jon Primus: To refuse to accept it--what is meant by that? Suicide or something?
Dr. Syngmann: At this moment, when the alignment with a higher humanity is at hand, a chapter is at last beginning that can be taken seriously in the history of the earth. Epagogics provide the arguments to prove to the Creator that life is an entirely meaningless gimmick unless it is eternal.
Pastor Jon: Who is to bell the cat?
Dr. Syngmann: As regards epagogics, it is pleading a completely logical case. In six volumes I have proved my thesis with incontrovertible arguments; even juridically. But obviously it isn't enough to use cold reasoning. I take the liberty of appealing to this gifted Maker's honour. I ask Him--how could it ever occur to you to hand over the earth to demons? The only ideal over which demons can unite is to have a war. Why did you permit the demons of the earth to profess their love to you in services and prayers as if you were their God? Will you let honest men call you demiurge, you, the Creator of the world? Whose defeat is it, now that the demons of the earth have acquired a machine to wipe out all life? Whose defeat is it if you let life on earth die on your hands? Can the Maker of the heavens stoop so low as to let German philosophers give Him orders what to do? And finally--I am a creature you have created. And that's why I am here, just like you. Who has given you the right to wipe me out? Is justice ridiculous in your eyes? Cards on the table! (He mumbles to himself.) You are at least under an obligation to resurrect me! "
— Halldór Kiljan Laxness (Under the Glacier)