Award-winning Icelandic novelist Baldursdóttir's story of a woman's struggle to become an artist in the early decades of the 20th century.
When the widow of a fisherman lost at sea moves her six children from rural western Iceland to the city of Akureyri, it's in order to educate not just her sons, but her daughters as well. It's 1915, and Icelandic women have just been granted suffrage: "This new era will bring women brighter days. We can get educations, and we can vote." After a harrowing boat journey, Karitas, the artistic youngest daughter, is put in charge of her little brother and the household chores while the others go out to work. Told mostly in third person, with short sections from Karitas' point of view, the novel depicts their time in a saltfish warehouse and their longing for dry feet and leather shoes during a winter so cold the urine freezes in the chamber pot. A rich neighbor arranges for Karitas to study art at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Copenhagen. Returning after five years, she tries hard to create a life as an artist even after getting pregnant and moving to a turf-and-stone farmhouse with her fisherman husband. She fights with her highhanded spouse, hides from elf women, makes art when she can, despairs: "Was she focused on art, after all—or were there artists who thought of clotheslines?" But the true heart of the book belongs not to its eponymous heroine but the strong-willed women of Iceland generally. Life here is hard, death swift and ubiquitous. Through every loss and setback, the brutal winters, the months the men spend at sea with the fishing fleet, the women endure. As Karitas' mother says: "We fight, we Icelanders, we fight.”
A convincing portrayal of the lives of Icelandic women during an important period in the country's history.