About the Size of the Universe by Jón Kalman Stefánsson

About the Size of the Universe by Jón Kalman Stefánsson

Author:Jón Kalman Stefánsson [Stefánsson, Jón Kalman]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


. . . because love is both a sacrifice and a balancing act

To love is harder than we realise.

*

They’re home from Hornafjörður, Oddur and Þórður. Gunnar had waited for three days in a row on the foredune, a short distance from the village, from where it’s maybe twenty steep metres down to the shore, with an excellent view out over the fjord, anxious to be the first to spot them, he can easily tell Sleipnir from other boats, even at a considerable distance, recognises it from the way it sits in the water, probably a born sailor – saw them coming and sprinted home at once. Shouting, They’re coming, they’re coming! so eagerly that he nearly hiccupped between words, ran shouting into the house, from there down to Áslaug and then straight down to the pier, with his sister Elín behind him. Margrét set off down to the harbour three times but turned back each time, uncertain whether Þórður would want her waiting at the pier, it might make him look like a child awaited by a fearful mother; a young person’s pride and self-image are extremely fragile. Which is why she waited at home. She prepared some food, brushed her hair, put on some decent clothes, like an idiot; for whom was she primping, anyway? Her sister-in-law, Áslaug, felt no hesitation, didn’t wallow in doubt; no, she ran straight down to the pier with her three daughters and they all waved energetically as the boat approached, completely unbridled, like children, and Tryggvi himself, that sea-dog, was transformed into an over-eager boy, jumping onto the pier before Sleipnir had moored and nearly drowning in their kisses – is there a more beautiful way to die than to drown in kisses? Finally, father and son came walking up the slope, Þórður with Elín on his shoulders, she clutching his hair, warbling, smiling from ear to ear, and Gunnar skipping around them. They came into the house and – how shall we say it, how is it best to put it, what words can describe it, maybe these: it was as if a knife had stabbed her in the heart. Or: as if a great weight, half a mountain, had dropped onto her shoulders?

Þórður twisted Elín down from his shoulders, went over to his mother and hugged her, kissed her, but didn’t he seem a bit remote, as if he didn’t give all of himself to the embrace, as if there were some obstacle, something between them that his embrace didn’t encompass? She had a lump in her throat; she needed to clear it, and said, somewhat flustered but feeling as if she had to speak in order not to burst into tears in front of them all: God will bring us a good summer. Then she remembered Oddur, there he stood, slim but so strong and full of the invisible power that has always emanated from him and makes him far stronger than his physical appearance might suggest, power that followed



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