Translation: Victoria Bakshina

I meet Ingólfur Eiríksson at the Coffeehouse Vest, I think there is nothing to lure him out of the 107-comfort zone since he was born and raised in the Vesturbær district. He is a 27-year-old literary scholar who has recently received a master’s degree in creative writing, and after I have ordered my pancakes and soda, we have chatted about odds and ends, I turn on the recorder and start the interview that I am here for. He published his first novel, Stóra bókin um sjálfsvorkunn (e. The big book of self-pity), a month earlier, and I’m going to find out how the young author feels after he got a few weeks to shake off this newfangledness.

KMB: You’ve recently received a pretty good review in Fréttablaðið, have you seen many this month since the book came out?

IE: Yes, it was just okay. I’ve received three reviews and the book is going to be reviewed by Viðsjá. It will probably-

After these words, the waitress approaches us with my pancakes and offers them to Ari Eldjárn, a comedian, who sits at the table next to us.

KMB: I think I’ve just ordered this!

IE: Wow!

The waitress hands me the plate. The pancakes are superb, covered in chocolate and berries.

KMB: Yes, now I get this two thousand króna deal, this is splendid.

IE: Pretty much. I would’ve just said keep them, but some have a better sense of morality than I do.

Ingólfur looks at Ari.

IE: But of course, you’re with a child, you must set a good example.

AE: Yeah, I’d rather eat something that she does not want. Something "savory". This is a pretty big portion.

KMB: I don't quite know how to eat this.

IE: This is very entertaining.

KMB: Yeah, wow. Yes, this is awesome. This will be an interview about pancakes.

IE: Yes, absolutely, it’s much better.

I start attacking the pancake mountain and try to bring us back on track with the interview, which, despite everything is not going to be about pancakes.

KMB: But yeah, how do you feel about this? When people publish-

I stuff a pancake in my mouth

IE: Their views on my book?

KMB: Yes.

Reviews don’t go beyond texts

IE: Look, I think it will be easier with every review. At first, one is in a bit of a tizz, somehow. And I was quite upset after the first review. It wasn’t even bad; it just was not what I expected. But then maybe a week later comes a review that “contradicts” what the first one said. The previous review says maybe: “This is good, and this is bad.” And the next one is just vice versa. Then one stops stressing over it, it’s just life and one can’t do anything about it. I still felt that the review by Þorvaldur [Sigurbjörns Helgason] was very elaborate.

KMB: Now you’re judging his review.

IE: Now I’m judging his review. No, I mean, he was impressed, but he was not overly praising the book. But I also listen a lot more to what my readers say. Because they don’t keep a distance that the critics set up and this is a problem with reviews in my opinion. I’m a bit opposed to reviews, I’m much more impressed by discussions. Because in discussions you can allow yourself to have more of a “dialogue” with the text itself.

KMB: I understand that well. We also live in a country where everyone knows everyone. It can be difficult to judge objectively because there’s always some connection involved. Is it more honest to just have a discussion?

IE: I think so. And more fun. Because reviews don’t go beyond texts. They just evaluate what is in front of them. They keep the imagination on a leash. I always feel a little strange to judge art, a large part of it is how you react to it as a person, not what you think about it. Whether the book is good or not, but rather how you on the personal “level” “interact” with the ideas contained in it and create something bigger out of it. I, for example, would never want to write a review. No one has offered it to me, but I don’t think it’s a fun “concept”, I’d rather stick with the author than evaluate them. Because a large part of the reading is connecting with the way of thinking of another person, connecting with the other person. You cannot connect with someone else if you are always judging them. This is just something that we know from our life, if I would always say: Oh, my mom is always like that, then I would never have the same relationship with her. Therefore, a person needs to take the book for what it is, on its terms.

Master’s degree thesis in creative writing

KMB: How long did it take you? When was the idea of the book itself born and when did you start to write?

IE: Look, I think it was concieved in the summer of 2019, I started to make, very kind of unclear – am I saying very stupid things?

KMB: Not at all.

IE: Because yes - well, the idea of the book itself might have been born in the summer of 2019, I started to write down a few scenes and the scene overview. I had a very unclear foundation; I knew where I would end and where I would start but I didn’t know how to get there. And I wrote, in fact, not a scene overview from A to B, but more scenes that I knew I would want to have and went slowly to write them in and out, and from there new scenes were born.

KMB: So, a little bit like a jigsaw puzzle? Because you roam a bit between times in the book.

IE: Yes, I do it. Yes, this is not like I sit down and start with an A and write my way up to a B. I’ve tried to do it; it doesn’t work for me.

KMB: To not imagine an end?

IE: Yes, and you’re always like: “Yes I’m going to bring forward this and this in the book “. But with this method, it is possible to work on single scenes, and then if you’re not quite sure how you plan to continue, you can move on to something else and allow it to simmer in the subconscious. Because the subconscious is such a big part of this. I used all the projects in the Innritun course to write forward.

KMB: Yes, the course in creative writing?

IE: Yes, there were weekly projects, and it was pretty liberal, so I just used all the projects to write the book. So, after like half a year, I had come up with some 20 thousand words. But then around the New Year before I met my advisor for the thesis in creative writing, Ragnar Helgi Ólafsson, I tossed about 10 thousand words. They were not quite in tune with the story. I showed it to him, and we had a little chat about it. I had been doing this all along with other courses in creative writing. So, in January 2020 I started writing just that and what I had been writing, in fact, the first “draft” every day for four months. Which I was very satisfied with. I thought that I wouldn’t have to rewrite a lot. This was just cool. But then Ragnar Helgi went over this and said: “This is probably not quite complete.”

KMB: So, this was your master’s degree thesis in creative writing? And you got editing advice both from your advisor and when you came with it to Forlagið publishing?

IE: Yes.

Kill your darlings

KMB: And how was it, did they agree with Ragnar, or did you have to change everything back?

IE: No, no, no. But after the first draft Ragnar Helgi came up with so many points and just said: as of now, there is a big problem with this manuscript. He also told me how I should solve this and pointed out the issues to me. Then I threw out a large part of the manuscript, around 10 thousand words, and took June-August to drastically change the manuscript, so the best parts in this are basically from the second draft.

KMB: After the refining of Ragnar?

IE: Yes, the book became a third longer and the plot thickened. What I found interesting was that since it thickened so much, I had an extensive survey over the manuscript, so when it was placed on paper, it was easier to spot the flaws.

KMB: But it’s not a given that a person can get their first novel published. Have you previously tried to submit work? And how did it happen, did you submit it somewhere, take part in some competition, or?

IE: Well, no I, of course, published Klón (e. Clone) at Forlagið publishing, I had a contract for the book, which has been processed by Sigþrúður, my editor.

KMB: But how did the process start? So, we go further back.

IE: Yes, yes. Umm, well, it was in the middle of Covid-19, and it was a really slow news season at Forlagið, I think. I have sent the manuscript to two publishers, who rejected it, but not Forlagið. I just thought: “Forlagið will not give this a chance”, but I tried anyway to send it to the publishing director and got an answer in three days - which I think is an unusually short time after submitting the manuscript. She just said: “Hey, this is very exciting, we want to publish it”. I went to her office the week after and we signed a contract.

KMB: When you are basically an insider, then it is easier for you to just say: “Hey, I also have this master’s project which is a novel, would you like to publish it too?”

IE: Yes, I asked my editor immediately at the first meeting: “I have a novel manuscript that presumably will be ready by the end of the summer, may I send it to you then?” and she welcomed it. “So, then we are in this process, and I had rewritten the manuscript a lot, then sent it to Sigþrúður when the Christmas Book Flood was over. She was quick to read it and said to be very fond of this manuscript and wanted to publish it. So no, I didn’t have to submit it on some portal or in a competition, I just spoke with my editor.

KMB: But of course, you got some editing tips from your advisor. How was it to get editorial advice in such a big and prestigious publishing house?

IE: Sigþrúður edited this book very well. She had, of course, gone through a very “intensive” process by then. The manuscript changed quite a bit from what I sent to her, which was fantastic. I think she’s awesome. We have a really good relationship – I’m extremely fond of her and she is a great editor.

Immune to the environment

KMB: One thing that I’m a bit curious about, now that I’ve read a little bit of the book: You studied in the UK, is this based on your own experience? Did you get some inspiration from there to stage some parts of the book?

IE: From the local circumstances?

KMB: Yes, just from your stay there. Did you think: “Yes, it would be nice to write a book about someone who is in a similar position as I am?”

IE: Yes, and I think fiction inevitably reflects one’s own experience of reality. Especially with the first novels, I think you should have just enough of this “concept” to write a 200-page book. I admire people like Zadie Smith, who wrote the White Teeth when she was twenty-three years old, which is a 500-page book about people of all kinds of origins and with all kinds of experiences of reality which makes it exquisite. I’m no Zadie Smith. That’s an issue. But yes, this is also what a person feels when they go abroad and do not have this safety net, which is interesting.

KMB: And many people experience it. People are always going abroad to study and go through the same experience.

IE: When you grow up in the same spot for 20 years and then go somewhere else, you’re so immune to your environment that you become overly sensitive to the new environment, and this is a weird feeling because you must think about every single step. You can’t do anything unconsciously. All the decisions you make are conscious. And what I thought was also interesting was that you take this one step further and become way too conscious and cannot distinguish between any stimuli, basically.

Criticizing the critics

I find it wise, and we just sit for a moment and contemplate what we were discussing. Ari Eldjárn, who is still sitting at the table next to us, and I had involuntarily glanced at each other during the interview, now he turns to us smiling.

AE: I’m sorry, I was eavesdropping, but I just heard that you were earlier talking about the criticism and books, did you just publish a book?

IE: Yes, umm… A novel.

AE: I’m going to read this book.

IE: Thank you!

AE: I’ve never published a book. I haven’t. But when I went to Edinburgh for a stand-up festival, the performances there were judged just like books.

IE: Really? At Fringe [Festival]?

AE: Yes. There is a large class of critics. And there was a page called Fringe Pig where the critics were judged, given stars, and analyzed ruthlessly. Any idiom they use, any ‘bias” they have, this was really an experience. When a person got a bad review, this was comforting to just go there. “Yes, this one, he is, of course, a complete-, always gives just one and a half stars".

KMB: “Rate My Professor“examples. “Ah, I failed. Yes, he fails everyone. “

IE: I was studying just outside of Edinburgh and was looking at Rate My Professor for Edinburgh University, and there was sometimes this: “Yes, this one was educated at Trinity, everyone who has taught at Trinity hates me for some reason.”

AE: Like Tripadvisor.

IE: Which is really funny.

KMB: But one should do this in Iceland, I think. Because this is a big problem.

IE: There is, of course, a precedent for this. Hallgrímur Helgason wrote a very memorable criticism of the criticism by Jón Viðars on Macbeth. He was just: “Is this criticism? “

AE: A person quite often gets the criticism that feels just “blatantly” unfair. And one is ready to eat up very poor reviews if they get 5 stars.

This won’t be included in the interview

IE: What I feel, too - and this won’t be included in the interview-

Ari covers his mouth.

AE: Oh, is there an interview going on?

IE: Yes, this would be otherwise, perhaps a bit of a one-sided conversation.

AE: “Ari Eldjárn, the intruder, lets everything revolve around himself. Begins to talk about Edinburgh. “

At this point, I turn off the recorder, and I and Infólfur have a good time chatting with Ari while I finish the pancakes. And though our conversation has gone a bit different than planned, one thing was clear in the end: All artists need to deal with unequally good critics.

Is there an interview going on?: Interview with Ingólfur Eiríksson