thebooktrail88's review against another edition
4.0
Visit the locations in And the Wind Sees All
This series of stories takes place in a fishing community in the north of Iceland. It’s more of a series of vignettes about life there and the variety of people who live there. It reads like a movie – a girl on a bike is on her way to the choir. Along the way she passes various people who have lived on the island for years. They are just as much part of the island as the island is of them.
The wind blows and as the girl cycles past someone, they enter the story. It’s the literary equivalent of looking through the window, and wondering what each person you see is doing. It’s not a linear story, but one that suggests wondering and wandering.
The series of thoughts weaves and changes direction much like the wind does. A very apt title for how the story reads and flows. It’s as if this wind blows through each of their lives, revealing snippets and memories before fading away. I felt as if was a quiet onlooker, secretly gaining an insight into a variety of people. In such a small place, everyone must know each other well, yet each of them felt like very secretive individuals. I felt a bit like the character of Death in The Book Thief. It’s amazing what you learn when you listen and gain access into someone’s inner thoughts.
It’s a very slow paced read and there’s no plot as such. This is a fleeting visit to one small part of the world. You feel the brevity of the visit, but the long chain of memories and secrets you take away with you.
The writing is lyrical and poetic. If there is a message to this story, I would say that even though people live close together and you think they know each other, they often don’t. It’s only the wind, that is able to float by between each one with a wisp of their secrets in its wake.
lehete92's review
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
thebooktrail88's review
4.0
Visit the locations in And the Wind Sees All
This series of stories takes place in a fishing community in the north of Iceland. It’s more of a series of vignettes about life there and the variety of people who live there. It reads like a movie – a girl on a bike is on her way to the choir. Along the way she passes various people who have lived on the island for years. They are just as much part of the island as the island is of them.
The wind blows and as the girl cycles past someone, they enter the story. It’s the literary equivalent of looking through the window, and wondering what each person you see is doing. It’s not a linear story, but one that suggests wondering and wandering.
The series of thoughts weaves and changes direction much like the wind does. A very apt title for how the story reads and flows. It’s as if this wind blows through each of their lives, revealing snippets and memories before fading away. I felt as if was a quiet onlooker, secretly gaining an insight into a variety of people. In such a small place, everyone must know each other well, yet each of them felt like very secretive individuals. I felt a bit like the character of Death in The Book Thief. It’s amazing what you learn when you listen and gain access into someone’s inner thoughts.
It’s a very slow paced read and there’s no plot as such. This is a fleeting visit to one small part of the world. You feel the brevity of the visit, but the long chain of memories and secrets you take away with you.
The writing is lyrical and poetic. If there is a message to this story, I would say that even though people live close together and you think they know each other, they often don’t. It’s only the wind, that is able to float by between each one with a wisp of their secrets in its wake.
squidmini's review
lighthearted
reflective
relaxing
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.75
alia0ftheknife's review
4.0
Enthralling writing feeling both like a collection of short stories and one novella. Looking forward to re-reading it in a few years. (and can't wait to spend some time in Iceland)
arirang's review
4.0
Guðmundur Andri Thorsson's Valeyrarvalsinn (literally The Waltz of Valeyri) was nominated for the
2013 Nordic Council's Literature Prize, eventually losing out to Kim Leine's Profeterne i Evighedsfjorden, which, translated as [b:The Prophets of Eternal Fjord|23365800|The Prophets of Eternal Fjord|Kim Leine|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1413747603s/23365800.jpg|19080187], was also shortlisted for the 2017 International DUBLIN Literary Award (my review: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1974085662).
Valeyrarvalsinn has been translated from Icelandic into English, as 'And The Winds Sees All' (bugbear alert - I really wish publisher/translators wouldn't change titles), by Andrew Cauthery and Björg Árnadóttir, an interesting translation duo who work together on translations in both directions (e.g. an Icelandic version of Wind in the Willows).
And it has been published by the wonderful small independent publisher Peirene Press, who have the strapline Contemporary European Literature. Thought-provoking, well designed, short, as part of their 2018 “Home in Exile” series alongside the very worthy Soviet Milk and Shadows on the Tundra.
The author's own explanation of the novel is worth reading (from http://www.islit.is/media/pdf/Fabulous-Books---Gudmundur-A.-Thorsson.pdf when the novel was being promoted for translation):
The mist. It comes off the sea and slides along the spit. Every summer's day. it creeps up the fjord as evening approaches, noses around the slopes and foothills and slips into the village, where it curls around the boats in the harbour and licks the corners of the houses, before lifting itself upwards just enough for me to be able to peep through people's windows.
I see the secrets, I see the people cooking, peeing, pottering or skulking about. Some weep, some listen, some stare. I see people silent, or screaming into their pillows. I see people throwing out rubbish and useless memories, and I do not look away. I never look away. I see all.
The identity of the narrator here (who isn't 'the wind' of the English title) is only made clear in the closing chapter.
The blurb on the back reads: 'Relaxing Nordic hygge in a novel: the entire story takes place in two minutes', neither clause of which is really accurate.
The organising principle of the stories that follow is indeed based around a two minute bike journey undertaken by Kata (known as 'Kata Choir - most of the characters have been bestowed with similar nicknames) to the village hall, where she will lead the local choir in a concert. And the different chapters take us through the stories of many of the villagers that she encounters on her ride, or are preparing for the concert, but the stories themselves roam into their different, and often troubled, pasts.
It is fascinating to see also how the different stories fit together as characters reappear, events from the past mentioned in one story are explained in another. As one of the residents whose family have lived their since the village was founded, in the late 19th century, ponders: You spend half your life trying to find out things about yourself that the village already knows about you when you are born.
As for 'relaxing Nordic hygge': to me the book only really gets into its stride when we move past the more bucolic descriptions of the village and some of the stories take a darker turn: for example we later learn, as a visitor queries Kata's identity, of the disturbing story of how she came, not by choice, from Eastern Europe to the village. And the post-financial crisis setting starts to become more relevant, as for example we get to stories of leveraged banking loans against the value of fishing quotas, and foreign currency mortgages, both of which spell disaster for both borrower and lender.
The blend of modern and traditional is beautifully done:
The village has its own history, its characters, its legends. The characters and legends have long since gone, and all that is left are people and events. Reverend Sæmunder sometimes says in his sermons that the village “is beyond the world and all the perils thereof”. Smyrill the poet on the other hand always says [...] that the village is the world in a nutshell. Neither is true. The world is blessed with a million nuances of human life that can not be found in Valeyri. And as attested to by the rooftop satellite dishes, the SUVs on the streets, the graffiti on the buildings, the young people's wanderlust, the Polish migrant workers and the Asian women in the fish factory who keep the local economy going, Valeyri is immeasurably far from being 'beyond the world' or not needing it at all. The world buys the fish that is caught by the ships registered here.
And even though the revenue from fishing doesn't all end up here- who knows, maybe only a tiny part of it does - Lára Lár, and latterly her son, Jói, have always taken great care to ensure that their crews include local seaman, and have kept fish processing going all year round.
This doesn't displace [a:Jón Kalman Stefánsson|2779048|Jón Kalman Stefánsson|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1265649614p2/2779048.jpg]'s stunning [b:Himnaríki og helvíti|7710085|Himnaríki og helvíti|Jón Kalman Stefánsson|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1326661971s/7710085.jpg|6513641] trilogy as my favourite Icelandic writing, but highly worthwhile.
Peirene had an incredible run of 6 consecutive longlist places for the Independent Foreign Fiction / Man Booker International Prize with 2016: [b:White Hunger|23697987|White Hunger|Aki Ollikainen|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1442356000s/23697987.jpg|19142490], 2015: [b:The Dead Lake|20308483|The Dead Lake|Hamid Ismailov|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1388685676s/20308483.jpg|28143058], 2014: [b:The Mussel Feast|16138043|The Mussel Feast|Birgit Vanderbeke|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1361473560s/16138043.jpg|192385], 2013: [b:The Murder of Halland|14624369|The Murder of Halland|Pia Juul|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1338144615s/14624369.jpg|20268345], 2012: [b:Next World Novella|10300307|Next World Novella|Matthias Politycki|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1348095186s/10300307.jpg|15202273], 2011: [b:Beside the Sea|7516243|Beside the Sea|Véronique Olmi|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1479890960s/7516243.jpg|9725380], particularly impressive as they only published 3 such books each year. They missed out in 2017 and 2018, but I very much hope to see them back on the list in 2019.
2013 Nordic Council's Literature Prize, eventually losing out to Kim Leine's Profeterne i Evighedsfjorden, which, translated as [b:The Prophets of Eternal Fjord|23365800|The Prophets of Eternal Fjord|Kim Leine|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1413747603s/23365800.jpg|19080187], was also shortlisted for the 2017 International DUBLIN Literary Award (my review: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1974085662).
Valeyrarvalsinn has been translated from Icelandic into English, as 'And The Winds Sees All' (bugbear alert - I really wish publisher/translators wouldn't change titles), by Andrew Cauthery and Björg Árnadóttir, an interesting translation duo who work together on translations in both directions (e.g. an Icelandic version of Wind in the Willows).
And it has been published by the wonderful small independent publisher Peirene Press, who have the strapline Contemporary European Literature. Thought-provoking, well designed, short, as part of their 2018 “Home in Exile” series alongside the very worthy Soviet Milk and Shadows on the Tundra.
The author's own explanation of the novel is worth reading (from http://www.islit.is/media/pdf/Fabulous-Books---Gudmundur-A.-Thorsson.pdf when the novel was being promoted for translation):
“I am an advocate of small literary forms, and the short story cycle is a particularly fascinating one.Set in the Icelandic fishing community (population 2000) of Valeyri, around 2010, the novel opens:
..
The idea is that each story should be able to stand on its own as a traditional short story, but can simultaneously be seen as part of the larger picture. The stories reference each other in various ways: One story gets a brand-new ending later in the book; a character makes a phone call, and in a later story we hear the particulars of the call. One story ends with a fly zipping out of a window, but another one starts with a fly coming in through a window. Taken as a whole, these stories are all part of one overarching narrative: the story of the village of Valeyri, of which the reader should be able to piece together a mental image.
A friend of mine gave me Sherwood Anderson's [b:Winesburg, Ohio|80176|Winesburg, Ohio|Sherwood Anderson|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1391639013s/80176.jpg|191520] years ago, telling me I should translate it, it would be right up my alley. I was noncommittal at the time. But maybe The Waltz of Valeyri is that translation, after all!”
The mist. It comes off the sea and slides along the spit. Every summer's day. it creeps up the fjord as evening approaches, noses around the slopes and foothills and slips into the village, where it curls around the boats in the harbour and licks the corners of the houses, before lifting itself upwards just enough for me to be able to peep through people's windows.
I see the secrets, I see the people cooking, peeing, pottering or skulking about. Some weep, some listen, some stare. I see people silent, or screaming into their pillows. I see people throwing out rubbish and useless memories, and I do not look away. I never look away. I see all.
The identity of the narrator here (who isn't 'the wind' of the English title) is only made clear in the closing chapter.
The blurb on the back reads: 'Relaxing Nordic hygge in a novel: the entire story takes place in two minutes', neither clause of which is really accurate.
The organising principle of the stories that follow is indeed based around a two minute bike journey undertaken by Kata (known as 'Kata Choir - most of the characters have been bestowed with similar nicknames) to the village hall, where she will lead the local choir in a concert. And the different chapters take us through the stories of many of the villagers that she encounters on her ride, or are preparing for the concert, but the stories themselves roam into their different, and often troubled, pasts.
It is fascinating to see also how the different stories fit together as characters reappear, events from the past mentioned in one story are explained in another. As one of the residents whose family have lived their since the village was founded, in the late 19th century, ponders: You spend half your life trying to find out things about yourself that the village already knows about you when you are born.
As for 'relaxing Nordic hygge': to me the book only really gets into its stride when we move past the more bucolic descriptions of the village and some of the stories take a darker turn: for example we later learn, as a visitor queries Kata's identity, of the disturbing story of how she came, not by choice, from Eastern Europe to the village. And the post-financial crisis setting starts to become more relevant, as for example we get to stories of leveraged banking loans against the value of fishing quotas, and foreign currency mortgages, both of which spell disaster for both borrower and lender.
The blend of modern and traditional is beautifully done:
The village has its own history, its characters, its legends. The characters and legends have long since gone, and all that is left are people and events. Reverend Sæmunder sometimes says in his sermons that the village “is beyond the world and all the perils thereof”. Smyrill the poet on the other hand always says [...] that the village is the world in a nutshell. Neither is true. The world is blessed with a million nuances of human life that can not be found in Valeyri. And as attested to by the rooftop satellite dishes, the SUVs on the streets, the graffiti on the buildings, the young people's wanderlust, the Polish migrant workers and the Asian women in the fish factory who keep the local economy going, Valeyri is immeasurably far from being 'beyond the world' or not needing it at all. The world buys the fish that is caught by the ships registered here.
And even though the revenue from fishing doesn't all end up here- who knows, maybe only a tiny part of it does - Lára Lár, and latterly her son, Jói, have always taken great care to ensure that their crews include local seaman, and have kept fish processing going all year round.
This doesn't displace [a:Jón Kalman Stefánsson|2779048|Jón Kalman Stefánsson|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1265649614p2/2779048.jpg]'s stunning [b:Himnaríki og helvíti|7710085|Himnaríki og helvíti|Jón Kalman Stefánsson|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1326661971s/7710085.jpg|6513641] trilogy as my favourite Icelandic writing, but highly worthwhile.
Peirene had an incredible run of 6 consecutive longlist places for the Independent Foreign Fiction / Man Booker International Prize with 2016: [b:White Hunger|23697987|White Hunger|Aki Ollikainen|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1442356000s/23697987.jpg|19142490], 2015: [b:The Dead Lake|20308483|The Dead Lake|Hamid Ismailov|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1388685676s/20308483.jpg|28143058], 2014: [b:The Mussel Feast|16138043|The Mussel Feast|Birgit Vanderbeke|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1361473560s/16138043.jpg|192385], 2013: [b:The Murder of Halland|14624369|The Murder of Halland|Pia Juul|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1338144615s/14624369.jpg|20268345], 2012: [b:Next World Novella|10300307|Next World Novella|Matthias Politycki|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1348095186s/10300307.jpg|15202273], 2011: [b:Beside the Sea|7516243|Beside the Sea|Véronique Olmi|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1479890960s/7516243.jpg|9725380], particularly impressive as they only published 3 such books each year. They missed out in 2017 and 2018, but I very much hope to see them back on the list in 2019.
jackielaw's review
4.0
In a fishing community in the north of Iceland a young woman cycles to the village hall where she is to conduct the local choir in a much anticipated concert. As she passes by the reader is introduced to the characters who briefly observe her, many of whom have lived in the village for most of their lives. The narrative covers just a few minutes in time, like a wind blowing through the streets in which these people are going about their day. Whatever they are doing, minds are wandering. Lifetime memories can be triggered by a moment, before that moment drifts away.
And the Wind Sees All, by Guðmundur Andri Thorsson (translated by Bjørg Arnadottir and Andrew Cauthery) is a study of the never ending train of thoughts that individuals live with yet rarely share. Snapshots from the past are cherished – their significance is personal, sometimes hurtful to others. A young woman may have sparked feelings in a man that his wife has never generated – feelings he will linger on as he ruminates over what might have been. A wife may despise her husband for his habits but put up with them for the sake of family harmony. It can be wise to avoid drawing attention to that which is better lived with silently.
One group of long time friends is sitting outside enjoying a pre-concert drink and listening to an anecdote, each remembering events from their pasts involving others known to all but significant in differing ways. These personal perspectives interlink but with unacknowledged importance and consequence. There are: loves, betrayals, resentments, regrets.
The reader learns of the lonely and the guilty. Fortunes have been made and lost. Secrets devastatingly shared. Children have been raised and loved before dying or moving away. Events that felt like endings were survived, marking change.
A poet waits patiently for words that continually flutter away. A priest drinks and gambles in privacy. An old man drowns memories of childhood abuse in alcohol before collecting himself and resuming his quiet existence. A sister grows exasperated with her brother and they cease speaking.
The writing is lyrical and poetic, the sharing of hopes and dreams that sparkled and then faded. Life continues beyond disappointments, marking time with occasional small happinesses. The village knows many of these secrets but chooses to accept and look away.
Lives are complex. Words for intimate feelings prove elusive, the feelings themselves fleeting. The metaphor of the wind passing through and observing just a few minutes of individual lives brings to the fore how little people are aware of what is happening to others, even those close by.
This is an affecting approach to portraying the ordinary as personally extraordinary. A poignant yet hopeful read.
And the Wind Sees All, by Guðmundur Andri Thorsson (translated by Bjørg Arnadottir and Andrew Cauthery) is a study of the never ending train of thoughts that individuals live with yet rarely share. Snapshots from the past are cherished – their significance is personal, sometimes hurtful to others. A young woman may have sparked feelings in a man that his wife has never generated – feelings he will linger on as he ruminates over what might have been. A wife may despise her husband for his habits but put up with them for the sake of family harmony. It can be wise to avoid drawing attention to that which is better lived with silently.
One group of long time friends is sitting outside enjoying a pre-concert drink and listening to an anecdote, each remembering events from their pasts involving others known to all but significant in differing ways. These personal perspectives interlink but with unacknowledged importance and consequence. There are: loves, betrayals, resentments, regrets.
The reader learns of the lonely and the guilty. Fortunes have been made and lost. Secrets devastatingly shared. Children have been raised and loved before dying or moving away. Events that felt like endings were survived, marking change.
A poet waits patiently for words that continually flutter away. A priest drinks and gambles in privacy. An old man drowns memories of childhood abuse in alcohol before collecting himself and resuming his quiet existence. A sister grows exasperated with her brother and they cease speaking.
The writing is lyrical and poetic, the sharing of hopes and dreams that sparkled and then faded. Life continues beyond disappointments, marking time with occasional small happinesses. The village knows many of these secrets but chooses to accept and look away.
Lives are complex. Words for intimate feelings prove elusive, the feelings themselves fleeting. The metaphor of the wind passing through and observing just a few minutes of individual lives brings to the fore how little people are aware of what is happening to others, even those close by.
This is an affecting approach to portraying the ordinary as personally extraordinary. A poignant yet hopeful read.