Christina at Almannagjá
As soon as we reached Thingvellir and began walking along the narrow chasm of Almannagjá, emotion-charged memories surged through me: not memories of my own visits to Thingvellir, but the memories of the characters in my book.
Drowning Pool
Happy memories, of Freya and Saemundur walking along the top of the chasm, flirting by the Drowning Pool where witches were summarily dispatched in centuries past.
Lögberg (Law Rock)
Ulfur explicating Icelandic history at the Law Rock, where the first Viking settlers held their outdoor parliament in the 10th century.
Bus at Thingvellir
And feelings of turmoil, as I saw the spot where Birdie turns against her friend Ulfur, insisting he drop her and Freya off at Thingvellir to wait for a bus back to Reykjavik. And the bus comes and Freya tries to get on and Birdie stops her. And the desolation Freya feels as the bus drives off, stranded with Birdie, and their wretched hours-long trek around the lake. A turning point in the book, the point where Freya realizes that she is now hopelessly entangled in Birdie’s madness.
I remember too my actual memories of visiting Thingvellir several times over the years, yet memories of my actual visits were not as strong as my fictional memories, memories of the fictional scenes I created for my book. These were scenes are in some ways more real to me than life, I inhabited them for such long periods of time in my mind, writing and rewriting, feeling and refeeling, seeing and reseeing each place, each exchange of conversation, the feel of the wind blowing ceaselessly against Freya’s face.
Seven Swans at Thingvellir
Today at Thingvellir: seven giant swans, rising up, puffing out their chests, beating their massive wings in the air, then taking off in a white ruffle across the still green water.
Christina, thanks for posting updates on your Iceland journey. Looking at some of the Thingvellir photos, I was wondering if there was a light dusting of snow on the ground.
Posted by: Rob Olason | May 30, 2010 at 03:57 PM