Heaven and Hell. J[n Kalman Stefnsson Paperback – September 1, 2011

This is a startling piece of literature, the first of a trilogy that has some of the finest poetry ever. It invites one to think, slowly, carefully about life and death, even the almost dead and those who almost live. This book is not a quick read, by any means, and by all means not a book to set aside. Yes, there is lots about fishing, lots about ice and snow, oceans and mountains, and the insignificant (or significant) space between where humans live or try to live. Follow this book with the next one, "Angels of Sorrow" and then with the final one, "Heart of Man." You will never regret it.

How to describe Jon Kalman Stefansson’s novel of early 20th century Iceland, HEAVEN AND HELL? I will characterize it as an odd and mournful mix of Icelandic Saga-story, with nods to Paradise Lost, The Old Man and the Sea and, in general, lost innocence, all loosely organized and written in the manner of Cormac McCarthy, and narrated by a Greek chorus of Dead Souls, who “intend to tell of those who lived in our days, more than a hundred years ago, and are little more to you than names on leaning crosses and cracked headstones ... Our words are a kind of rescue team on a relentless mission to save past events and extinguished lives from the black hole of oblivion ... bewildered, scattered rescue teams, unsure of their task, all compasses broken, maps torn or out of date, yet you should welcome them.”It’s the “unsure of their task” part that stands out here, because, although the protagonist of this jumbled tale is quite obviously “the boy,” there are perhaps a score of other characters here whose points of view and inner thoughts intrude at seemingly random intervals as we follow ”the boy” after he loses Bardur, his best and dearest friend, on an ill-fated fishing voyage on the Polar Sea, and then journeys through a threatening snowstorm over the mountains to the valley where Bardur was born, to tell what happened and to return a book, Milton’s PARADISE LOST, to a blind sea captain Bardur had borrowed it from. (How’s that for a long run-on?) There in the Village he is taken in by a wealthy widow, part of a “trinity” that includes the blind man and another alcoholic ship’s captain. The Village is never identified beyond mentioning that it lies on a remote spit of land in a fjord below the “Eyrarfjall peak.”The connections between the blind captain, Kolbeinn, regarded with suspicion by the locals because he loved books, and the blind poet Milton, are many. The captain had amassed a library of over four hundred books - an enormous collection for the time and place - but went gradually and inexplicably blind. The boy, an orphan, who can read - a rarity - considers possessing a library such as this, and then going blind, a kind of hell in itself. Hell too, “is a dead person,” he thinks, as he remembers his friend. “Is it a loss of Paradise to die?” And “Hell is having arms but no one to embrace.”Heaven, on the other hand, seems inconceivable. ”The heavens have never needed to explain anything, they arch high over our heads, over our lives, and are always as distant, we never come close to them ...” And indeed, God Himself seems all but absent in this brooding tale, or, at the very least, indifferent to the petty doings of men. (The village priest is a sad drunkard.)I suspect, that to fully appreciated Stefansson’s story, one should be more knowledgeable about Icelandic story traditions, and certainly Paradise Lost, than I am. Because I found HEAVEN AND HELL to be something of a slog, albeit with flashes of brilliance. The narrative moves sideways as often as it does forward, and the ending seems inconclusive, with yet another look at the ubiquitous falling snow, “large hovering snowflakes shaped like angels’ wings.” But perhaps more will be explained, will become clear in THE SORROW OF ANGELS, the sequel, which rests now in my to-read pile. Recommended, but with reservations. (three and a half stars)- Tim Bazzett, author of the memoir, BOOKLOVER

The words have grabbed hold of me from page one, and I wanted the prose to flow on forever. I read in circles, rereading the same passages, retracing my steps, and advancing over the previous endpoint, and so until the end. As in a Greek tragedy, there is a chorus, a chorus of long-departed voices that murmurs like a subterranean river of memory, "Our words are a kind of rescue team on a relentless mission to save past events and extinguished lives from the black hole of oblivion, and that is no easy task." The story is simple, because. in the end, life, too, is simple: life, love, death, there is little else: "People are alive, have their moments, their kisses, laughter, their embraces, words of endearment, their joys and sorrows, each life is a universe that then collapses and leaves nothing behind but a few objects that acquire attractive power through the deaths of their owners, become important, sometimes sacred...". Life unfolds in the grip of the elements, between the sea and the mountains, between the black earth and the distant sky, everything connected in a web of emotions, hopes, uncertainties. "... the body's blood vessels, the arteries, the veins, and capillaries that are nearly four hundred thousand kilometers long, reach the moon and just touch out into the black space beyond it ... Andrea stands between the boat and the hut ... her veins reach to the moon." Life unfolds between heaven and earth. Heaven is "having something to eat, to have escaped the storm, come through the breakers that roar just beyond the land, to hit them at precisely the right second required to sail through them...". "Hell is having arms and no one to embrace."Stefansson's slim volume is thick with immemorial wisdom, words that will touch you and remain with you for a long time; a wisdom that has nothing in common with the trivialities dispensed by self-help books or "inspirational" drivel that people reach for in moments of desperation, or because they don't know any better. It is as distant from these things as the verses sung by a skipper in the midst of a storm at sea, words that rip deeper and deeper into the soul, to keep the crew warm, are distant from pedestrian rhymes that pass for poetry.To be able to read, is not as great a skill as knowing how to read, say the voices. Interestingly, in Stefansson's narrative, poetry, here, Milton's, gives humans a force of resistance, against the cold, against the toil... But one must keep things in balance: sometimes a windbreaker is much more important than a line of poetry. ...Needless to say, I've immediately ordered Stefansson's two other books, recently translated into English, The Sorrow of Angels and The Sorrow of Angels.

A man lost his jumper, another man got sad.

He is an exceptional author. The book is captivating and sensitive. A book in prose by a well acknowledged poet. I and numerouse others eagerly await English translations of some of his other works. The first part is about winter ocean fishing from a small boat and the second part is along the lines of "Leaves of Grass" set in a small Icelandic village. I was recommended the book by a French artist as more of his works have been translated into French. Heaven and Hell could easily be called Earth, Sky, and Sea. Don't worry, it will not offend your view of god or try to convert you to anvthing other than an additiction to excellent literature.

This is one of the translated Icelandic novels in the library of Reykjavik City of Literature writer residence Gröndalshús. I so fell in love with this writer's prose, I purchased a copy to keep and intend to read over and over.

It’s a book so not much to be said about the form. it arrived in time and was in perfect shape. Looking forward to reading it.

I liked it from beginning to end. I seldom happened to find descriptions of nature and human soul so out of the usual ways, some passages are real great poetry.

Sutileza y una enorme habilidad para la construcción de personajes y las relaciones entre personas. Un auténtico descubrimiento y un placer de lectura

One of my fav genres. Stefansson does a great job with this story. I look forward to investigating more of his work.