GlobeLore

Iceland

The North Atlantic island of fire and ice, a tiny nation of saga-tellers and book-lovers, home of the world's oldest parliament, where people go by first names alone, soak in geothermal pools, and keep the old Norse spirit alive. The complete guide.

Iceland is a small island nation in the far North Atlantic, just below the Arctic Circle, a land of volcanoes, glaciers, geysers, and lava fields, home to only about three hundred and ninety thousand people, one of the smallest and most sparsely peopled nations in Europe. To understand it, begin with the dramatic land itself, shaped by fire and ice, which has formed a hardy, independent people; with the deep Norse heritage of the Vikings, the medieval sagas, and the Althing, the world's oldest parliament, which Icelanders cherish as the heart of their identity; with the Icelandic language, little changed since Viking times, and the unusual custom by which Icelanders bear no surnames and call everyone, even the prime minister, by their first name; with a culture of reading, writing, equality, and self-reliance; and with the warmth of the geothermal pool, where the nation gathers. From these flow the customs of daily life, the food, and the festivals. This guide walks through each in turn.

Overview

Iceland is an island nation in the North Atlantic Ocean, lying just south of the Arctic Circle between Europe and Greenland, alone in the cold northern sea. It is a land of extraordinary natural drama, set upon the boundary where two of the earth's great plates pull apart, so that it is one of the most volcanically active places in the world, a country of fire and ice where glaciers, volcanoes, hot springs, geysers, waterfalls, lava fields, and black sand beaches make a landscape of stark and haunting beauty. Only about three hundred and ninety thousand people live there, most of them in and around the capital, Reykjavik, on the southwest coast, making Iceland one of the smallest and least densely peopled nations in Europe.

Iceland is a parliamentary republic, with a president as a largely ceremonial head of state and a prime minister who leads the government, answerable to the parliament, the Althing, which traces its founding to the year 930 and is reckoned the oldest parliament in the world. The current prime minister is Kristrun Frostadottir, and the president is Halla Tomasdottir, part of a striking moment when women held the highest offices of the land. Iceland is a prosperous, modern, and highly developed Nordic country, a member of NATO though it keeps no army, with an economy built on fishing, geothermal and water power, aluminium, and tourism. The language is Icelandic, a Germanic tongue little changed since the Viking age, and most Icelanders also speak fluent English.

A few deep forces shape life in Iceland. There is the dramatic land of fire and ice. There is the Norse heritage of the Vikings, the sagas, and the ancient Althing. There is the language and the custom of first names. There is the deep culture of reading, equality, and self-reliance. And there is the warmth of the geothermal pool. The sections that follow trace these and walk through the customs, the food, and the festivals.

The land of fire and ice

The deepest fact about Iceland is its land, one of the most dramatic and geologically alive on earth, which has shaped the nation and its people as profoundly as anything in their history. Iceland sits astride the great rift where the North American and European plates pull apart, and the island is, in effect, still being made, riven with volcanoes that erupt every few years, sometimes spectacularly, with fields of black lava, bubbling mud pools, steaming vents, and the hot springs and geysers that gave the world the very word geyser. Across this fiery land lie great glaciers and ice caps, among the largest in Europe, so that fire and ice meet in a single country, and the landscape is one of stark, elemental, haunting beauty.

This land of extremes has shaped the Icelandic character. To live on a remote, harsh, and unpredictable island, far out in the cold northern sea, with long dark winters, fierce weather, and the ever-present power of volcano and storm, has bred a people of remarkable hardiness, resilience, resourcefulness, and self-reliance, accustomed to coping with whatever nature sends and proud of their ability to endure and prevail in a demanding land. Icelanders place an exceptionally high value on independence and self-sufficiency, a trait that runs deep in the national character.

The land also gives Iceland its great modern blessing: the heat of the earth itself. The volcanic ground provides abundant geothermal energy, which heats the homes, the swimming pools, and much of the nation, and which, with the power of the glacial rivers, makes Iceland a land of clean, cheap, renewable energy, warm water flowing from the cold ground. The dramatic land draws visitors from across the world to its waterfalls, glaciers, volcanoes, and the famous lights of the winter sky, and it is the foundation of the nation's beauty, its energy, and its hardy spirit.

The sagas and the ancient Althing

Iceland was settled in the ninth and tenth centuries by Norse Vikings, mostly from Norway, together with people of Irish descent, who sailed across the sea to make their homes on the empty island, and from this Viking settlement comes the deep heritage that Icelanders cherish as the heart of their identity. The most precious treasure of that heritage is the great body of medieval literature, above all the Icelandic sagas, the prose epics written down in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries that tell of the settlers, the feuds, the heroes, and the early history of the island, and that are reckoned among the finest literary achievements of the Middle Ages, a source of immense national pride.

The settlers also founded, in the year 930, the Althing, the assembly where the free men of the island gathered each year at the dramatic rift valley of Thingvellir to make laws and settle disputes, and which is honoured as the oldest surviving parliament in the world, a continuous thread of Icelandic self-government reaching back over a thousand years. The Althing is a deep source of national pride and a symbol of the Icelandic love of law, independence, and democracy, and Thingvellir, where it met in the open air, is a place of almost sacred meaning to the nation.

This Norse and saga heritage runs through Icelandic identity. Icelanders are proud of their Viking descent and take great care to preserve their traditions, their literature, and above all their language, which has changed so little since the Viking age that modern Icelanders can read the medieval sagas in the original. The old stories, the old gods, and the old beliefs linger in the culture, and many Icelanders retain a fondness, half-serious, for the folklore of elves and hidden people said to dwell in the rocks and hills, a belief that occasionally even affects where roads are built.

A nation of first names

One of the most distinctive of all Icelandic customs is the way the people are named, for Icelanders, almost alone in the modern world, do not generally bear family surnames at all, keeping instead the old Norse patronymic system in which a person's second name is simply formed from the first name of their father, or sometimes mother. A man named Jon, the son of Einar, is Jon Einarsson, Einar's son; his sister is Anna Einarsdottir, Einar's daughter; and the names change with each generation rather than passing down as a fixed family name, so that within one family the father, mother, son, and daughter may all bear different second names.

Because there are no surnames, Icelanders address and refer to one another by their first names alone, in every setting and at every level of society, so that even the prime minister, the president, and the most famous figures are called simply by their first names, and the national telephone directory is arranged alphabetically by first name. This is not informality or familiarity but the ordinary and only way, and it reflects and reinforces the deep Icelandic sense of equality, in which all stand on the same footing and no one is set above another by a grand family name.

The naming custom is bound up with the Icelandic devotion to their language and heritage, and it is guarded with some care: there is even an official committee that approves new first names to ensure they fit the grammar and traditions of Icelandic. The custom is a living link to the Viking past, when the Norse named themselves in just this way, and it is a small but telling expression of the equality, the rootedness, and the love of tradition that mark the nation. For a visitor, it means addressing everyone by their first name, which is correct and expected.

The pool and the book flood

For all their reserve, Icelanders share certain warm and beloved customs of daily life, and chief among them is the geothermal swimming pool, the sundlaug, which is a central institution of Icelandic life and community. Almost every town and village, however small, has its public pool, heated by the warmth of the earth and open all year round, even through the dark and freezing winter, and Icelanders of every age gather there to swim, to soak in the hot pots, the warm outdoor tubs, and above all to relax, talk, and catch up on the news of the community. The pool is to Iceland what the cafe or the pub is to other lands, a warm and democratic gathering place, and its culture is so cherished that it has been honoured as a treasure of the world's heritage.

Another deep and distinctive love of the Icelanders is books, for this tiny nation is one of the most literary on earth, publishing and reading more books per person than almost any other, the proud descendants of the saga-writers keeping alive a passion for storytelling, writing, and reading. The love of books reaches its height at Christmas, when Iceland keeps the cherished tradition of the Jolabokaflod, the Christmas book flood, when a great wave of new books is published in the weeks before Christmas, books are given as the favourite gift, and families spend Christmas Eve reading their new books together, a custom that captures the Icelandic devotion to the written word.

Icelandic daily life holds other quiet pleasures and customs: the year-round love of ice cream, eaten even in the depths of winter on the family drive to the ice cream shop; the famous and trusting custom of leaving babies to nap outdoors in their prams in the cold fresh air; the long, light summer nights and the dark, cosy winters; and the strong, warm bonds of family and the tight social circles formed early in life. Shoes are removed on entering a home, as in the rest of the Nordic world. These customs reflect a people at ease with their land, their traditions, and one another.

Skyr, lamb, and the fermented shark

Icelandic food is shaped by the land and the sea, by the fishing that has long been the lifeblood of the nation, by the sheep that graze the hills, and by the old necessity of preserving food through the long, harsh winters of a land where little could be grown. Fish and seafood are at the heart of the cuisine, the cod, haddock, and other fish of the rich northern waters, fresh, dried, and smoked, and Icelandic lamb, raised on the wild highland pastures, is famous for its flavour, eaten roasted and as the smoked hangikjot. Potatoes and a little hardy produce round out the traditional plate.

The most distinctive of all Icelandic foods is skyr, the thick, creamy, high-protein dairy food, something like a yoghurt, made for centuries and eaten daily, now loved across the wider world. Beside it stand the dried fish, hardfiskur, eaten like a snack with butter; the twisted fried doughnuts called kleinur; the good Icelandic dairy, chocolate, and the famously pure water, among the cleanest on earth. Iceland is also known, with a certain national humour, for its old preserved foods that startle outsiders, above all hakarl, the fermented shark meat, cured for months until pungent, and the other traditional dishes of the midwinter feast, which Icelanders eat with pride as a tribute to the hardiness of their ancestors.

The national spirit is brennivin, a caraway-flavoured schnapps, drunk in small measures, often alongside the fermented shark, and Iceland makes good beer and water, though alcohol is costly and sold only in the state shops. Modern Icelandic cooking has flourished in recent decades, the cities full of fine restaurants drawing on the superb local lamb, fish, and dairy, and the old foods are kept for tradition and festival more than daily fare. The pure ingredients, the fish and the lamb, the skyr and the water, are a source of national pride. For a visitor, to taste the skyr, the lamb, and, for the brave, the fermented shark is to taste the land and the history of Iceland.

The Yule Lads and the midwinter feast

The Icelandic year is marked by festivals shaped by the long dark winters, the old Norse traditions, and the Christian calendar, and the greatest of them is Christmas, the warm heart of the dark season, celebrated with deep feeling, family gathering, feasting, and the cherished book flood. Iceland has its own quirky and beloved Christmas folklore, above all the thirteen Yule Lads, the mischievous troll-like figures with names such as Spoon-Licker and Door-Slammer, who come down from the mountains one by one in the thirteen nights before Christmas, leaving small gifts for good children, or a potato for the naughty, in shoes left on the windowsill. Their fearsome mother, the ogress Gryla, and the dreaded Christmas Cat, said to eat those who do not receive new clothes for Christmas, complete the cast of this rich and playful Yuletide tradition.

The other great traditional festival is Thorrablot, the midwinter feast held in the old Norse month of Thorri, in the depths of January and February, when Icelanders gather to eat the traditional preserved foods, the fermented shark, the smoked and pickled meats, and the other old dishes, washed down with brennivin, in a hearty tribute to the old culture and the hardiness of the ancestors, a celebration of Icelandic heritage and survival through the dark of winter.

The brightest national celebration is Independence Day, the seventeenth of June, marking the founding of the modern republic in 1944, observed across the land with parades, music, and festivity in the summer light. Other beloved festivals mark the turning of the seasons, among them the First Day of Summer in April and the Seamen's Day in June honouring the fishing folk, and the cultural calendar holds the famous arts and music festivals of Reykjavik that draw visitors from across the world. Through them all runs the Icelandic blend of old Norse tradition, deep family warmth, and the marking of light and dark in a northern land.

A reserved and equal people

Icelanders are often described as reserved, calm, and undemonstrative, especially toward strangers, and a visitor may at first find them quiet, self-contained, and slow to open up, for they do not go in for effusive warmth or small talk with people they do not know, and friendships, formed early and held for life in tight social circles, can take time for a newcomer to enter. Yet beneath the reserve, Icelanders are friendly, helpful, hospitable, and quietly warm, with a dry, sharp, and often dark sense of humour, and a genuine welcome for the visitor who is patient and unpretentious. The reserve is not coldness but the manner of a small, self-reliant island people.

The deepest social value of modern Iceland is equality, and the nation is one of the most equal and progressive in the world. Iceland has stood at the very top of the world's rankings for equality between women and men for many years, a source of deep national pride, and women hold prominent positions throughout politics, business, and public life, including, in recent times, the highest offices of the state at once. The society is flat and informal, with little hierarchy or deference, everyone on first-name terms, and a strong belief that all stand on an equal footing, a value bound up with the old custom of first names and the self-reliant island spirit. Iceland is also among the most socially liberal and tolerant of nations.

For the visitor, a few customs are worth knowing. Icelanders value honesty, modesty, and a lack of fuss, dislike showing off and pretension, and respect those who are genuine, capable, and self-reliant. Punctuality is held a little loosely in social life, though valued in business. Shoes come off at the door. The pool has its own etiquette, including a thorough wash before entering. Above all, the visitor who meets the Icelandic reserve with patience, respects the equal and informal manner, and shows genuine interest in the land, the language, and the sagas will find a warm and generous welcome beneath the quiet surface.

The nation today

Iceland today is a prosperous, modern, and highly developed republic of about three hundred and ninety thousand people, one of the smallest nations in Europe yet one of the most advanced, peaceful, and equal in the world, with a high quality of life, a strong welfare state, and a clean, renewable energy supply drawn from its volcanic land and glacial rivers. It is governed from Reykjavik by a prime minister, Kristrun Frostadottir, and parliament, the ancient Althing, with a president, Halla Tomasdottir, as head of state, and it is a member of NATO, keeping no army of its own, though it is not a member of the European Union, a question that the nation continues to weigh. The economy rests on fishing, energy, aluminium, and a tourism that has grown enormously, drawing visitors from across the world to the land of fire and ice.

For so small a nation, Iceland faces real challenges. It must manage the great surge of tourism that has transformed its economy without overwhelming its small society and fragile nature; it weighs its relationship with Europe and the wider world from its lonely position in the North Atlantic; it works to keep its tiny, distinctive language and culture alive in a globalising age; and it copes, as it always has, with the power of its volcanic land, including the eruptions that from time to time disrupt life and remind the nation of the forces beneath its feet. These are the concerns of a confident, prosperous little nation of remarkable resilience.

Through it all, Iceland holds firmly to the identity that defines it. The dramatic land of fire and ice still shapes the resilient, independent character; the Norse heritage of the sagas and the ancient Althing still lies at the root of national pride; the language and the custom of first names still bind the people to their past and their equal society; the love of the book and the warmth of the pool still fill daily life; and the old foods and the Yule Lads still mark the turning year.