How to beat the cold and dark? Icelanders cozy up with books.
People gather on frozen Lake Tj枚rnin in the old town section of Reykjavik, Iceland. Tj枚rnin is also called The Pond by locals.
Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff/File
Reykjav铆k, Iceland
H枚rdur Gudmundsson spends the better part of his day with a book in his hands 鈥� but only in winter.
As the skies darken, he will spend full mornings at his favorite bookstore, I脨A Zimsen, near the Icelandic capital鈥檚 harbor. After supper he鈥檒l turn to his hobby: bookbinding. He鈥檚 already bound all the works of Iceland鈥檚 most famous author, Nobel laureate Halld贸r Laxness, and now is deep into the works of Gunnar Gunnarsson.
By Icelandic standards, this doesn鈥檛 make him a fringe book buff. Iceland is known as one of the world鈥檚 most literary countries, when it comes to the love of both reading and writing.聽
Why We Wrote This
Iceland upholds its deep literary tradition with Christmas gift-giving that puts books front and center. The country鈥檚 small population settles in for a winter of good reading and quiet cheer.
鈥淚t must be in our mother鈥檚 milk,鈥� says Mr. Gudmundsson, a retired trades teacher.
Books in Reykjav铆k, the first nonnative English-speaking city to be designated a UNESCO City of Literature, are everywhere. At one breakfast spot, the counter serves as a giant bookshelf. Tomes are piled onto the sills of steamed-up cafe windows.
The streets of Reykjav铆k are an ode to the characters of the medieval sagas. Written in the 13th and 14th centuries, the Icelandic sagas retell the exploits of Norse settlers beginning in the ninth century. The works are a source of pride and a pillar of Iceland鈥檚 literary sensibilities. Tours in Iceland鈥檚 only city take visitors to the birthplaces of authors like Mr. Laxness and the scenes of plot twists in Nordic noir, a booming genre.
Literature is inextricably linked to wintertime here, and that鈥檚 in no small part because of the J贸lab贸kafl贸冒, which translates to 鈥淵ule Book Flood,鈥� the heart of Icelandic Christmas traditions.
In the United States, mailboxes fill with advertisements for toys; in Iceland, a glossy catalog of books signals the arrival of the holidays.聽
The first catalog dates back to 1928. Giving books became a Christmas tradition during World War II, when shortages meant that imports 鈥� and spending money 鈥� were scarce. That scarcity, connected to isolation and poverty, is also tied to a modern love of reading, says Eliza Reid, Iceland鈥檚 first lady, who, fittingly, is also an author (she spoke about her book 鈥淪ecrets of the Sprakkar,鈥� about Iceland鈥檚 gender equality, at the Toronto International Festival of Authors this year).
鈥淚f you look at many other European countries that went through the Renaissance, Iceland didn鈥檛 have materials to develop a great culture, architecture, to build sculptures, to make musical instruments, to create music,鈥� says Ms. Reid. 鈥淭hey just had the written word.鈥�
And while Iceland today is far more connected to the world 鈥� it鈥檚 a bucket list destination for many travelers 鈥� middle-aged Icelanders remember growing up with one television station that didn鈥檛 broadcast every day. Icelanders read on those days instead.
All of this history comes together in December, when it is customary to receive a book on Christmas Eve and spend the hours after dinner cozying up with it. That tradition is beloved for reasons that span from poetic to practical. 鈥淚t鈥檚 right in so many ways,鈥� says Brynd铆s Loftsd贸ttir, co-director聽of the Icelandic Publishers Association. 鈥淚t鈥檚 right because we are preserving the language.鈥�
With a population under 400,000 and a language that has remained relatively unchanged over the centuries, Iceland is safeguarding culture by promoting its literature, she explains.
It also sets a price norm. Everyone gives and receives a book, at a cost that doesn鈥檛 fluctuate much. 鈥淪o I鈥檓 not at risk of giving someone a much cheaper gift,鈥� Ms. Loftsd贸ttir says. And perhaps the best part: 鈥淲hen we meet one another after Christmas and at various gatherings, we talk about what books we got.鈥� So there is no time to rehash any family holiday drama, she says with a laugh.
After the festivities, the winter months provide the perfect backdrop for reading. Iceland isn鈥檛 nearly as cold as most people assume, but it experiences many months of darkness. Homes and offices are lit with candlelight 鈥� breakfast is eaten and afternoon meetings are conducted over it. The winter draws people like Mr. Gudmundsson, the retired teacher, indoors (while in the full daylight of summer, he is drawn outside), and he is certainly not alone.聽
鈥淚n the wintertime, we look inward somehow,鈥� says Ms. Reid.
The season also provides the perfect vehicle for writers.
Winter appears within the first 50 words of Au冒ur J贸nsd贸ttir鈥檚 latest work, 鈥淨uake鈥� 鈥� when a man in a winter coat leans over to help the protagonist named Saga, after she鈥檚 had an epileptic episode in the streets of Reykjav铆k.
For the prizewinning Icelandic author, winter is the natural setting for 鈥淨uake,鈥� a story about a woman trapped as she fights to restore her memory 鈥� and the family secrets that surface. But it鈥檚 also a setting that writers employ often in this country, she says, because of winter鈥檚 sheer intensity. 鈥淵ou have this overwhelming feeling during winter in Iceland,鈥� she says. 鈥淵ou get the special atmosphere because it鈥檚 so dark.鈥�
That darkness also stirs the imagination. Iceland boasts a high per capita rate of published writers. According to Statistics Iceland, there are five titles published per every 1,000 Icelanders. There鈥檚 a saying in Icelandic: 鈥淓veryone has a book in their belly.鈥�
For Bara Bjarnad贸ttir, who works at the city library, that volume can generate a virtuous cycle of creation. 鈥淎t some point it has just become part of the culture, and it doesn鈥檛 seem like such a big obstacle to create something,鈥� she says. 鈥淓veryone around you has written a book, so it doesn鈥檛 feel like a very distant thing.鈥�
Ms. Loftsd贸ttir says surveys show a dip in book-buying last year, but the tradition is still strong. The glossy catalog this year lists 682 works.聽
The Book Flood is a mixed blessing for authors, who spend the six weeks before Christmas crisscrossing the country to attend talks, readings, and signings. Most of the country鈥檚 books are published in the months leading up to Christmas.
鈥淚t鈥檚 really valuable, this interest in society in books,鈥� says Ms. J贸nsd贸ttir, who is the granddaughter of the late Mr. Laxness. 鈥淏ut it has two sides. Some people will say it鈥檚 a bit of a problem: We have too many books.鈥�