Annik’s Impressions

Honour of the House

I took to read something less-simpler with Laxness before the epic Salka Valka and World Light, but in the end something strange, drab and sad happened.

There are books that are interesting to read, and you understand what the author wanted to say, and the form is wonderful. I remember the story, I remember the characters, I like the descriptiveness of Laxness, his characters, his language. And that’s all. Until a certain moment, the book escaped me, and two weeks later it hit like a boot to my head, emptying the skull.

And first I put the book neutral evaluation, I decided that maybe this is a feature of the author, or maybe the book is just not mine. Or just “tried a little, it’s LAXNESS.” A short story that I read before going to bed and about which I forgot the next day. It turned out that I did not forget. He scrolled in me all this time, prompting to feel, and not try to discern. Perhaps such a moment. Or a book. I’m afraid of putting labels on it. And I will not advise anyone—it's a very intimate business, letting books influence your feelings. And for some, it certainly will be a boring travesty about life.

I do not like villages, I do not like the wilderness, where everyone knows everything about each other, I do not like rumors and condemnation, just because there’s nothing to do (mind your own business and do not touch me), but I do not like when the heroine suddenly becomes pregnant twice. There are no prerequisites for this. I understand, I understand, this is not the salt, it's all not important, la-la-la, but I’m so curious and demanding.

And, apparently, I do not like books about life without a drop of humor.

And yet this book pierced me to the very bone. Is it strange? Perhaps it’s still in Laxness, and I was able to taste it, waiting for a while and holding it on the tongue. Then I must say that he is a test olive.

Sitting with a girlfriend in a cafe, I told her about the system “if an unborn died, then seven years of abstinence—and you're a virgin again,” so that you can talk about this book. The description hints at the whole idea of ​​the book. About two sisters, each has his own tests, his concept of happiness, his own destiny. Nobody said that it would be easy. The end —to some extent inspiring, although the word is wrong... sad and incomprehensible from this book. And I have a powerful shield against such life-threatening books. In any case, I had thought so.

It is said that the father of the gods once summoned to his feast the goddesses of fate. They all knew each other, except for the two that had not been seen before. Who were these goddesses? One was called Sincerity, and the other was Decency. Such a feast was held today. Today these two goddesses met, they greeted each other with a kiss in the face of an almighty god.

(Google translated from the Russian)