Bjartur of Summerhouses

The Work (Dudebros Section) organised a whole conference on Masculinity last year. It seems that we are still reeling in the Masculinity hangover. All the talks lined up for this year are about Masculinity and we will have so much fun talking about how to be a Man and what's more I got a really good topic:

The Way #22: Be firm. Be virile. Be a man. And then... be a saint!

While constitutionally the Work accepts both left-of-centrefolk and right-of-centrefolk among their ranks, the latter wins out in numerical strength. You might be concerned that this would steer the conversation towards something like Manliness is under attack! Modernity and feminism hates to see men being manly! We need suits and ties and shining armour and crusades! Thus, it is fortunate that I am stepping up for this scheduled talk. I plan to steer away from all the culture war shtick. Too much of this mutates into wife-beating and other blasted stupid and abusive Blodsinn. There will be another way to do this.

To aid the drafting process, I shall blog.

Hraun, 1900 (Photo: Frederick W. W. Howell)

Today's reflection is on the character Bjartur of Summerhouses from Halldór Laxness's novel Independent People. The book was written in 1934 and 1935 in two volumes; this and other novels earned Laxness the Nobel Prize in 1955. 

It is at the turn of the century, between the 19th and the 20th; Guðbjartur Jónsson (later Bjartur of Summerhouses) has just worked his way out of indentured servitude and is now his own Man. He spends the entire book reminding everyone else that he has worked his way out of indentured servitude and is now his own Man. Being his own Man, who owes no shit to no one, became more of a value to everything else in his life, including his wives (one after the other) and his children, who suffered his neglect and his autocratic whims: Rósa the first wife died at home giving birth to Ásta Sóllilja, while Bjartur was out bothering a reindeer or some other stupid Man-shit like that. When second wife Finna and the kids made an emotional connection with a newly-birthed calf, he slaughtered it and laid out its guts for everyone to see. My readers, don't you hate this guy already? But some people just love to see his Man-tics.

Blinded by his drive for independence and not relying on anyone in this life. Bjartur made almost exclusively bad life decisions. Iceland was on the cusp of independence from Danish rule; our Bjartur decides to side with the Danish, trading with the Danish trader with company credits. Communist revolutionaries pressed his son Gvendur to join them, and he let Gvendur go with them, even though he disagreed with the Communists himself. After Finna had passed on, Bjartur rejected the romantic advances of their domestic helper, who was the only sane woman in the book ever to catch feelings for the guy. Besides being a self-made man, Bjartur was a chump and a potato in all other respects of life. It is because of this that Laxness reacted so bemusedly at the interviewer who had found Bjartur a compelling character. "But he's so stupid!" said the great author.

The bad behaviour of Bjartur makes sense in the general background of the Nordic Sagas, where a surprising number of protagonists behave in a way just like Bjartur of Summerhouses. It is almost as if these were a different people from a different time with different values! I so frequently hear of scenes like big Warrior Man killing so many people in battle that they pile up like mountains in Jómsvíkinga saga (or something similar) and people talking about those scenes like they were highlights and a rarefied expression of their innermost aspirations. When I visited Borgarnes, I learned of Egill Skallagrímsson and the stories from his life. I was surprised by just how good he is at being an antisocial nuisance in various situations and, more disturbingly, and how the locals celebrated him for that personality trait alone (although I held my tongue, for fear of retaliation).

This feature of the Sagas is something which Laxness frequently refers to; he does it the most obviously in Wayward Heroes, where two Manlymen Main Characters do manly Viking nonsense at the same time Christianity began to take root among Icelanders. It became clear that Viking machismo was something antithetical to Christianity rather than something compatible with it. Things so valorous and praiseworthy in the old Saga ethical framework became craven and cowardly in the light of Christ. It was no accident that Laxness pitted the famous brigand Þormóður Bessason were against an Irish slave in a philosophical/spiritual rap battle, and granted the latter the resplendent victory:

Kolbakur: [...] Josa mac De has more than enough dukes to do battle for him: Patrick the farmer and Columbkille the priest, Columba the seafarer and Kilian the skald. His beautifully inscribed stone crosses tower higher than the peaks of my home in Ireland.

Þormóður: What news this is... Will you swear an oath, Kolbakur, by Josa mac De the Stout, that you have never slipped in through the window that you yourself fashioned for the maiden?

Kolbakur: Cut down her slave right her, if you will, and I will rise once more as her king.

 (Wayward Heroes, Ch. 10) 

I do not believe that it is masculinity which is under attack by secular society and protected by conservative Christianity; I am more confused that some kind of lame machismo is abetted by conservatives and Christians who for some cursed reason think the Gospels justify it. In the present as in the days of Þorgeir and Þormóður the manliness of violence, lies, wilfulness, and license and the manliness of respect, love, courage, and freedom are polar opposites. Choosing the former "manliness" over the real manliness of the Gospel is like choosing masturbation over sex. Now, if only my conservative friends would see the moral distinctions in manliness as starkly as they see them in sexual ethics! If they would discard their Culture War goggles for good, they might be able to see what the modern, depraved, and Woke could teach them about their own cherished values.

Fortunately, Bjartur of Summerhouses is afforded some semblance of a redemption arc, no matter how stupid Laxness thought of him. After he returned to the failed business with the reindeer in a blizzard, he found Rósa sadly deceased and Ásta Sóllilja still and close to death. A rare moment then came when he overcame his own consternations and decided to ask for help from the people from whom he had bought his freedom. This asking for help, which was a most difficult feat for Bjartur, brought Ásta Sóllilja back from the dead to become his daughter; This would later become his realest relationship, the one thing that saves him from himself.