Edward Hancox's Blog, page 10

Record Store Day in Iceland.

It’s Record Store Day. I’m not sure it’s celebrated in Iceland, but do you know what? It doesn’t matter. Reykjavík has one of the best record stores on the planet; 12 Tónar.

Here is an excerpt from Iceland, Defrosted about that very store:

‘Talking of record stores, next time you’re in Reykjavík, try to get yourself to 12 Tónar on Skólavörðustígur. It’s tiny, but it’s painted bright yellow, so you won’t miss it. It’s a great little place, and they run a record label too. It has become a meeting place for Icelandic musicians and music lovers. The complete opposite of chain-run record stores, and a survivor of the encroaching preference for digital music, it is a record store that is run exactly how record stores should be run world over. You are encouraged to take your time and browse. You can listen to anything that tickles your fancy on CD players that are scattered around, and the owners even provide you with free coffee. How lovely is that? I have spent far too many hours in the basement of that little shop, lounging on leather sofas, sipping coffee and playing new Icelandic music one CD after another.’

There’s another independent record store that appeals hugely to me. It’s a bit closer to home, and has links to Iceland, Defrosted. First off, it’s owned and managed by my old pal, Andy. Andy is responsible for introducing to many things during our time working together at HMV, including Sigur Rós. Andy appears in the book, a fact he is secretly proud of. Further more his record store (Left for Dead, Birmingham) sells Iceland, Defrosted, and finally, I can’t wait to share the Left for Dead ‘stage’ with Hafdís Huld on May 11th.

In any case, independent record stores (and book shops) need our support, rather than the faceless enormo-corporations that we sometimes turn to. Furthermore, they need support throughout the year, not just for a single day. I, for one, wouldn’t want to be without wonderful stores like 12 Tónar and Left for Dead.

10 Easter Eggs Of New Icelandic Music

It’s Easter. You’ll be bored now, or by Sunday at the latest. On top of that, you’ll soon be achingly full of poor quality chocolate, but unable to stop consuming it.

Nevermind. I have the antidote. Ten virtual eggs of beautiful Icelandic music, for your aural (rather than oral) enjoyment. Now, put that chocolate down, get yourself in a horizontal position and have a good old listen to some of these.

Rókkurro : White Mountain

Bloody hell. I love Rókkurro. This piece, taken from their forthcoming third album is called ‘White Mountain’, and is an absolute beauty. They’ve recently been awarded a grant to complete said album, and I can’t wait to hear it. In the meantime, this will do nicely.

ÍRiS : Sea Song

Ok, ok. This isn’t ‘new’ but it is a new version of the song, performed recently in the Reykjavik Maritime Museum. But where else would you perform a ‘Sea Song‘? It’s wonderful, as ever. Oh, and that thing, it’s called a windtube.

FM Belfast : Everything

The sound of the Reykjavik party scene are on the eve on releasing a new album entitled ‘Brighter Days’. Following the familiar electro pop blueprint, here is Everything.

Orfia : Slow and Low

Soffía Björg and Örn Eldjárn are Orfia. Orfia are currently raising funds on Karolina Fund for their debut album, which if anything like the two tracks I’ve heard so far, should be simply wonderful.

Jófríður Ákadóttir & Farao : Out Of Yourself

I’ve long been a fan of Samaris and Pascal Pinon. Here, Jófríður Ákadóttir joins up with Norwegian Farao to perform this laidback and lovely version of Truls’ 2013 hit ‘Out Of Yourself’, a song that I’ve never actually heard. No matter, this is great.

Samaris : Ég Vildi Fegin Verda

Speaking of Samaris, they’re back too. They have a new album on the way, a tour with the adopted-by-Iceland John Grant and several European festival slots over the summer. Here is a new track.

Kimomo : Specters

Kimono have been around for a while, and are currently looking for funding to release all their albums on good ol’ vinyl, including the often overlooked Easy Music For Difficult People. They’re back with new stuff too, including this piece.

My Bubba : Island

This pair are from Iceland and Sweden, and have combined to produce heartwarming harmonised vocals, and dreams of warmer places.

Hafdís Huld : Queen Bee

A few years ago, I managed to catch an interview with Hafdís, which appears in a certain book and I’m always looking forward to what the quirky elf-hunting princess of Icelandic pop is up to next. Happily, I discovered that she is about to release a new album, entitled ‘home‘, and is embarking on a UK tour to promote it. This is Queen Bee.

Ásgeir : Heart Shaped Box

This wonderfully melancholic cover of the Nirvana classic has been released by the boy Ásgeir for Record Store Day. Likely to be coveted by Nirvana fans, fans of Icelandic music and fawning fan girls alike. Get us a copy, will you?

SilverWood Blog Hop: Seaweed & Cocoa

Welcome to the SilverWood Books Blog Hop!

A few of our authors have come together to share a variety of articles and items of interest on their blogs for your enjoyment. There are some lovely giveaway prizes, and – to stay in keeping with the Spring and rebirth theme at this time of year – some colourful Easter eggs. Feel free to collect the eggs, and use them where you like. They were drawn by SilverWood author Peter St John who writes the ‘Gang’ series about a boy who was evacuated to a village near Ipswich during WWII. Meet Peter and his characters on the Blog Hop, along with a host of eggcellent SilverWood authors. ;-)

Have fun!

Helen Hart

Publishing Director

SilverWood Books

http://www.silverwoodbooks.co.uk

Here is mine!

I’m writing this whilst drinking a bottle of Páskabjór – a beer brewed in Iceland especially for Easter. Unusually, it’s Cocoa & Seaweed beer. And it got me thinking about Easter in Iceland.

Easter in Iceland is less about the Easter Bunny (who doesn’t travel this far north, and if you think about it, what do rabbits have to do with Easter anyway?), and more about beer and eggs.

Let’s talk about the eggs first. A big deal in Iceland, these are not your usual supermarket eggs as found in the UK and US. They come in a range of sizes, and are decorated with Easter chicks and flowers. They even have fortune/proverb messages inside.

Drinking then. Easter is a five day holiday for Icelanders – Maundy Thursday until Easter Monday. Pubs and clubs close for twenty four hours on Good Friday and Easter Sunday, but don’t worry, there is a remedy for this. Either stock up for the weekend and disappear into the country, preferably to somewhere with a hot-tub and a BBQ, or get yourself to the ‘I Never Went South’ festival up in Ísafjordur, in the West Fjords. This free festival of music is the brainchild of Icelandic star Mugison, and this year is it’s ten years old. Another reason to have a drink or two.

In addition, First Day of Summer (Sumardagurinn fyrsti) is celebrated in Iceland on the third Thursday in April. I think I’m right in saying that this coincides with Easter this year.

Páska, is you haven’t already guessed, means Easter in Icelandic. Hence, Páskabjór (Easter beer), the celebratory páskalambið (Easter lamb) and Páskaliljur (Easter lily, otherwise know as a daffodil but rarely seen in Iceland at this time of year!). Beware though, Paska in Swedish has an entirely different meaning!

Back to the beer. Steðji Easter beer (Þari páskabjór) is brewed with cocoa and seaweed. I know. This shouldn’t work, but it absolutely does. Steðji say that ‘the he seaweed is from Breiðarfjörður and is very salty, the cocoa makes it milder and this combination gives the beer very nice sea taste’. They are right. It has a slightly peculiar aroma, but otherwise it is a pleasant drink – it’s a dark coloured beer with plenty of depth and intrigue. Perfect for drinking whilst browsing the internet for flights to Iceland.

And there are a host of other exciting and interesting articles – hop forward to the next SilverWood Author for more interesting articles, some colourful Easter eggs to collect, and a few Giveaway Prizes!

1. Helen Hollick : Let us Talk of Many Things – Fictional Reality.

2. Alison Morton : Roma Nova – How the Romans Celebrated Spring

3. Anna Belfrage : Step inside… – Is freezing in a garret a prerequisite?

4. Edward Hancox : Iceland Defrosted – Seaweed and cocoa

5. Lucienne Boyce : Lucienne Boyce’ Blog - The Female Writer’s Apology

6. Matlock the Hare : Matlock the Hare Blog - Pid-padding the self-published Pathway…

7. Michael Wills : Michael Wills – A Doomed Army

8. Isabel Burt : Friday Fruitfulness – Flees for the Easter Hop…

9. John Rigg : An Ordinary Spectator – Television Lines

10. Debbie Young : Young By Name – The Alchemy of Chocolate

11. Peter St John : Jenno’s Blog – My Village

12. Caz Greenham : Caz’s Devon Blog Diary – Springtime and hanging baskets!

13. Helen Hart : SilverWood Books

Also, as an Easter gift, please click here for a free, bonus chapter from Iceland, Defrosted!

An Interview with Hannah Kent

A 17-year-old Hannah Kent was walking down a street in the North Iceland town of Sauðárkrókur in the late dawn of an Icelandic winter’s day. A large SUV started to tail her. She walked faster; the vehicle sped up. She began to worry; in her native Australia, like most places, this was a cause for concern. The vehicle caught up with her again. This time, she slowed her pace. The vehicle pulled alongside her, and one of the rear windows lowered. Three children peered from inside, directly at Hannah. She caught the word Ástralía, amongst smiles and waves, and realized that the children were just curious about this girl visiting from the other side of the world.

Hannah Kent must be the least likeliest person to write a highly acclaimed novel set in Iceland, about an 1820s execution. She is from the searing heat of Adelaide and first visited Iceland on an exchange visit, choosing Iceland so she could see snow for the first time (her other choices were Sweden and Switzerland, so it was a dead cert!). If it hadn’t been for a chance journey with her host family in northern Iceland, she would never have learned the story of Agnes Magnúsdóttir. The story that ended up forming her PhD.

Yet, somehow, all of these coincidences happened. The result, of course, is Burial Rites. Burial Rites was released in Australia in 2013, and is Hannah’s debut novel. It’s taken the world by storm since then, being nominated for the Guardian First Book Award and the Baileys women’s prize for fiction.

I met Hannah during her jaunt around the U.K. promoting Burial Rites, in a wonderful bookshop called Booka. Surrounded by books, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee, I was genuinely pleased to meet her, and even more so on realizing that she clearly shared the same obsession for Iceland.

How did you find Sauðárkrókur?

It’s very hard. I remember the Sauðárkrókur that I first encountered. It was alien, utterly strange and difficult to fit into. I felt conspicuous, and at the same time isolated. It wasn’t helped that I was a very shy person, and I didn’t put myself out there. It would have my earlier stay much easier if I had, but I wasn’t able to, being who I was and my age. I do have specific memories of the town. I struggled. I struggled with the town, and didn’t understand it, and then it changed. For the rest of my exchange, say nine months, it became my home. I’ve been back about five times since, to Sauðárkrókur. I ended up having three host families, and the second one really helped. They had four children under the age of ten. Kids have a great way of breaking down barriers, and helped me learn Icelandic. I also joined the local theater company, which helped and helped me meet different people in the community. I love the place now, I completely love it. I think of it as home.

What do you miss the most about Iceland?

I miss the people more than anything, but I also miss the landscape. I completely fell in love with the Icelandic landscape in a way that I’m still trying to articulate the hold that it has over my heart. You know yourself, don’t you? It draws you and compels you, but at the same time makes it difficult to explain why it has a hold over me. I miss it. I miss it deeply.



I begin talking about my obsession with Iceland, and how we have written very different books, but both borne out of the inspiration that a love for Iceland provides.

Exactly, in the author’s notes to Burial Rites, I call the book a dark love letter to Iceland. I completely stand by that. That’s exactly how I feel.

Are you fluent in Icelandic?

Oh, I’m very rusty now. I learnt Icelandic when I was there, and didn’t speak any English or anything else, and to a certain degree the amount of translation I had to do for my debut helped me keep it fresh, but there is very few opportunities to speak Icelandic back in Australia, so I have become rusty. When I go to Iceland, I need a good two weeks. I can understand it, that’s not a problem, but it’s speaking it and getting my tongue back in actions around those strange vowels and rolled rs.

(There’s a question I’m dying to ask, and do so with a chuckle in my voice). Do you speak Icelandic with an Australian accent?

I don’t know! No one will tell me. One time I was in Akureyri and someone asked me if I was from Sweden, so maybe I speak it with a Swedish accent. I have no idea.

Burial Rites is about to be translated into Icelandic, for the first time. How does that feel?

I’m really excited about it. I’ve had a considerable amount of feedback from Icelanders, not just the ones I know, that has been positive and supportive. That’s been really important to me. I’ve also been contacted by a great many descendants of people who the characters in the book are based on—Natal Ketilsson, Björn Blöndal, the family at the farm—this has been very reassuring, because they are interested and encouraging. I think is due to an Icelandic open mindedness, a respect of literature and an appreciation that it does not necessarily have to adhere to a singular truth and that there may be other possibilities. I’m pleased that they’ve accepted it in that particular attitude and I’m very grateful for that.



Are you surprised by the global success of Burial Rites?

Absolutely. I never really anticipated it ever being published. I wrote it for a PhD qualification and my own personal reasons. So just seeing it on print is still the most exciting part because that’s what I really wanted for a long time. Everything else is, of course, a wonderful bonus but it does bring with it a sense of surreality and I’m quite often both overwhelmed and completely grateful for the way in which so many readers have embraced the story.

Hannah plans her next novel to be set in Ireland (she jokingly admits to being lazy, and just changing one consonant), but I know that she’ll be returning to Iceland. As we chat about Iceland until her publicist grows impatient, I realize that Hannah has a real passion for Iceland. Burial Rites is her dark love letter to the country, and one that deserves to be treasured.

Originally published on Iceland Review online.

Pompey, Promotion, Rhubarb & a Floating Bookshop.

It’s been a busy few days in Defrosted land, so I thought I’d recap on a few bits and pieces.

First off, the very distinguished Blackwells books in Oxford decided to stock Iceland, Defrosted.

Then a copy turned up in a rhubarb patch in Deb Willot’s garden…..

….. I managed to waffle on about indie authors and their relationship with bookshops for Debbie Young’s Off The Shelf blog ….

… And get myself quoted in the Portsmouth News in a wonderful article about 101 Reykjavik ….

… I’m planning events at Church Stretton, Shropshire (April 9th) and at Left for Dead, Birmingham (May 9th) with the lovely Hafdís Huld…..

…. And, finally, I’m looking forward to an event at The Book Barge – a floating bookstore. Sarah, it’s owner/captain had just released her first book ‘The Bookshop That Floated Away’. How good is that?

101 Reykjavík in Southsea

It’s a curious thing, this obsession with Iceland. It affects different people in different ways. Take, for example, Wit and Lisa. Having traveled to Iceland each year for the Airwaves festival, and each time sworn they wouldn’t be back next year, they have recently opened an Iceland-themed cafe/bar in Southsea, Portsmouth.

There is a tendency, I know, to recoil in horror these days at anything ‘themed;’ anything that isn’t the genuine article. Think of the plastic shamrock’d Irish bars, the Walka-something Australian clubs or anything that is pretending to be something it’s not. On my way to 101 Reykjavik, even my taxi driver was questioning the wisdom of an Icelandic bar in South England.

I needn’t have worried. Wit and Lisa have paid such attention, such love and care to 101 that it is absolutely wonderful. I’ve been to a few Icelandic bars in my time—no, really!—and this feels like stepping into a kaffibar just off Laugavegur. There are a number of reasons for this: warm, welcoming candle light, the strains of Ólafur Arnalds on the stereo, the fresh kleinur on the counter, the imported skyr on the menu, the quirky artwork (the huge puffin an obvious favorite of mine) and the fact that outside is cold and horribly rainy in true Icelandic style. It made the interior feel all the warmer.

It continues—I deviate slightly from the Iceland theme for a cup of Portsmouth tea (best of both worlds) before Wit arrives with a perfectly timed pylsur. Or the 101 version thereof. Wit explains that he can’t source (no pun intended) the Icelandic remoulade at the moment. Local Icelanders have voiced their concerns over the omission, but I think its bloody good and wolf mine down. He has even taken the time to add both dried and fresh onions—that’s the level of detail we are talking here.

I have a wander around to check out the artwork. I love the Sigur Rós posters, the framed cartoon picture of Múm and the collection of Icelandic photography. That weird snow monster thing from last year’s ATP is here too. There are neat touches on the tables: lava candle holders, miniature Vikings and Puffin salt & pepper shakers. Actually, best not mention those; they’ve been proving a little too cute recently and several have gone AWOL. Wit hoped it is merely children borrowing them, rather than anything more sinister, but my suggestion of them returning for the summer season seems unlikely.

I deliver a Q & A with Wit to the audience, who seem to enjoy it between bites of pylsur and spoons of soup from within freshly baked bread roles. Them, not me. I receive a few questions; elves, food and Blue Lagoon and a grilling from Wit in his new guise as Michael Parkinson.

By this time, I’m itching to try a beer or two. 101 stocks an impressive range of Icelandic beers, including a U.K. exclusive Steðji, which is wonderful. I’m tempted to stick with the seaweed and Cocoa Easter beer. It shouldn’t work but absolutely does. There are several others, though, that take my fancy including porters, lagers and brews with licorice and strawberry. I opt for a citrus one and it’s like drinking Icelandic sunshine.

Wit and Lisa have combined their Icelandic obsession with a thoughtfulness and care that you don’t often see these days. I don’t think you have to be obsessed with Iceland to enjoy their hospitality; it’s warm, welcoming and wonderful. As if to prove this, Lisa hands me a Tupperware container on my way out.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“Skyr. You know, for breakfast.”

I’m touched by her kindness. The skyr does not last until breakfast time.

Meeting Hannah Kent

I travelled to Booka Books in Oz tonight (Oswestry, not Australia) to meet Hannah Kent, author of the acclaimed Burial Rites, which is set in Iceland.

We had a good old natter about all things Icelandic, awkwardly signed each other’s books, and she even posed with a copy of Iceland, Defrosted!

Full interview to follow.

Alda Sigmundsdóttir : This is not a weather report.

Alda Sigmundsdóttir is a respected writer, journalist, blogger and consultant on all things Iceland. During the economic crisis, she chronicled what life was like in Iceland, mainly for the world’s non-Icelandic speaking media, and on her blog The Icelandic Weather Report. I do wonder how many tourists have unintentionally clicked on her blog, though.

Alda has written several books, both fiction and non-fiction, and written for The Guardian and something called—you may of heard of it—Iceland Review. She has a large international following on social media, and never holds back when giving her opinion on anything happening in Iceland. Alda is often the first person I look up when a big Icelandic news story breaks;her frank, open comments provide a lively insight into what is really going on.

After the success of her latest novel Unraveled, Alda is back with a crowd-funding campaign on Indiegogo for her new book. I took the chance to ask her a few questions.

With your successful blog, several books and frequent commentary in the media, would you agree that you have become an unofficial spokesperson for Iceland? Was this intentional?

Well, I think at one point I was the unofficial spokesperson for Iceland, and that was after the economic meltdown. There was such a thirst for information about what was happening here, and there weren’t many people providing it in languages that were not Icelandic. So yes, I guess you could say that I did become that sort of spokesperson. And no, it was not at all intentional. What is intentional, though, is my downplaying of that role in more recent years. I still get many requests to meet with people, speak to the media and so on about the Icelandic situation, and these days I almost always say no. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that people generally want me to do it on a volunteer basis and it takes far too much time away from other things I want and need to be doing.

Your first book The Little Book of Icelanders was hugely successful. Why do you think this was?

I honestly have no idea. I was completely surprised that it became such a hit. Maybe because there haven’t been many books written about the Icelanders’ national character, and possibly the style of the writing. People tell me that it flows well, and that they like the personal, almost intimate tone of it.

What was the reaction of your fellow Icelanders to the book?

One of the great things about the Icelanders is that they have a wonderfully kooky sense of humor, and they don’t take themselves too seriously. They also love to have “outsiders” mirror them—to see themselves from an outsiders’ perspective, and while I am an Icelander, I am also an outsider [Alda has spent a lot of time abroad]. So to answer your question: I haven’t met an Icelander who didn’t like it, and I’ve met lots of Icelanders who say they liked it a lot.

You are about to publish a follow up book. Can you tell me a bit more about that?

Absolutely. The new book is called The Little Book of the Icelanders in the Old Days, and as the title so aptly suggests it is about the Icelanders in the old days. About three years ago I went back to school and started taking Ethnology as a minor, and many of the courses dealt with Iceland in centuries past. I’ve never been particularly interested in history, but I found myself absolutely fascinated with the various facets of my ancestors’ lives. I was absolutely in awe of how they managed to survive on this island on the edge of the inhabitable world, under a really harsh and repressive colonial regime. And by survive I mean both physically and spiritually—how they found ways to cope with everything. Some of those ways are heartbreaking, and others are absolutely hilarious. So I wrote a book in the style of the first Little Book: fifty miniature essays about different aspects of life, in a light and humorous style. I definitely did not want it to be like a textbook—it is not a history book or a book about Icelandic folkways. It’s a funny book, but with a serious undertone that I hope will leave the reader with a feeling of deep respect for the Icelanders and their survival skills. I have Megan Herbert on board to illustrate—she also did the illustrations for the first little book, and she has a wonderful knack for taking the humor in the text and making it visual. I’m really excited about this project, and very happy with the book.

I see that you are using crowd-funding this time around. I did the same with my book, and I know it’s not easy. Why did you decide to do this rather than the more traditional publishing route?

Well, let’s just say that my experience with traditional publishing has been less than satisfactory. There was a serious breach of trust that came up between me and the publisher of the first Little Book, so I have chosen not to work with them again. And in any case, I feel that the traditional publishing model, the way things have been done for decades or even centuries, has become outdated. There are so many other options open to authors now. That said, going indie is a huge amount of work, especially when you use crowdfunding, and I’ll have to see how this works out. After the initial print run I may decide to pursue a different route with this project. But I definitely wanted to give this a try.

It’s a well quoted fact that one in ten Icelanders will publish a book in their lifetime. Why do you think this is? And aren’t you over your quota?!

Yeah, that is a well-quoted fact, but I wonder how accurate it is, really. Also, there seems to be this perception that every one of those publications is highly literary—it doesn’t take into account all the nonfiction books that get published, like cookbooks, knitting books, the latest diet, new age fads, and so on. But maybe I’m just splitting hairs. If the one in ten figure is accurate, it is a pretty high figure. Why this is? Probably because there’s a strong literary tradition here. And why is that? Well, that’s one of the things I write about in my new Little Book, wink wink.

Do you think the Little Book of… could become a series then? What are your plans for the future?

Now there’s an idea! Why not? As for the future, I have a lengthy list of books waiting to be written. Believe me, I’m just getting started.

More details on Alda’s campaign can be found on indiegogo.

Originally published on Iceland Review online.

New Rökkurró song unveiled

The ever delightful Rökkurró have unveiled a new track today. Called ‘White Mountain’, it was premiered by The 405 and is an absolute beauty. I’m smitten with this band, but this and last years ‘Killing Time’ surely mean they are working towards a very special album.

Hafdís, me, Left for Dead

So, here’s the thing.

Several of my favourite things are combining on 10th May, are you are all invited.

Let me explain. As readers of Iceland, Defrosted will know, I’m a huge fan of singer/songwriter Hafdís Huld. I managed to catch an interview with her a few years ago, which appears in the book itself, and I’m always looking forward to what the quirky elf-hunting princess of Icelandic pop is up to next. Happily, I discovered that she is about to release a new album, entitled ‘home‘, and is embarking on a UK tour to promote it.

At the same time, my good friend Andy has recently opened an independent record store in Birmingham. Called ‘Left For Dead‘, it’s a real gem of a shop harking back to days when record shops cared about their customers, welcomed afternoon-long browsing, and were always ready with a recommendation or two (I just discovered Jesca Hoop via Andy, although he was trying to convince me about another singer/songwriter who is also an ornithologist, hence the birdsong in the background).

I love a good record shop, and Andy used to be my boss when I first started working at a record shop as a spotty teenager. He introduced to me to a good few things; not all of them music related. Andy also appears in Iceland, Defrosted, a fact which he is secretly proud of, although he’d never tell you himself. He does sell my book in Left For Dead though, and it’s going like hot cakes, frequently outselling acoustic ornithologists.

Using the power of Twitter, I managed to introduce Hafdís to Andy, and I pretty damn pleased that Hafdís will be playing an instore set at Left For Dead on 10th May at 2pm.

I’ll be there, of course, and I might even give a short reading from Iceland, Defrosted. It would be great if you could join us.