Burial Rites(98)
My interpretation of the Illugastaeir murders and executions is informed by many years of research, during which I have accessed ministerial records, parish archives, censuses, local histories and publications, and have spoken with many Icelanders. While some historical characters have been invented, omitted, or had their names altered out of necessity, most, including Bj?rn Bl?ndal, Assistant Reverend Thorvardur (Torvareur) Jónsson, most members of the family at Kornsá, and Agnes’s parents and siblings, are taken from historical records.
No offence is intended towards living relatives of any character whose name I have borrowed in the service of telling Agnes’s story.
Many of the letters, documents and extracts presented at the beginning of each chapter have been translated and adapted from original sources. The ruins of Natan’s workshop still stand at Illugastaeir today, and a stone plaque marks the site of execution at Trístapar. All place names used in this novel are true to life, and many of the farms referenced by Agnes and other characters remain working farms to this day.
Many known and established facts about Agnes’s life and the murders have been reproduced in this novel, and events have either been drawn directly from the record, or are the result of speculation; they are fictional likelihoods. The family at the farm of Kornsá did hold Agnes in custody after she was held at Stóra-Borg, and Agnes chose Assistant Reverend Tórvareur Jónsson to act as her priest in her last days. The nature of their relationship, including their first mysterious meeting and Agnes’s dream, is drawn from local accounts and histories of the area. The high level of literacy shown by the characters is historically accurate. Icelanders have had almost universal literacy rates since the end of the eighteenth century.
I am indebted to the research of scholars such as Gísli águst Gunnlaugsson, ól?f Garearsdóttir, Loftur Guttormson, Gunnar Thorvaldsen, S?ren Edvinsson, Richard Tomasson, and Sigureur Magnússon, who have published extensively on subjects such as foster children and paupers, infant mortality, illegitimacy and kinship networks in nineteenth-century Iceland. I have also drawn on many nineteenth-century journals by foreign travellers to Iceland, including those of Ebenezer Henderson, John Barrow, Alexander Bryson, Arthur Dillon, William Hooker, Niels Horrebow, Sir George Mackenzie and Uno Von Troil. Húnavetningur, Sagnat?ttir úr Húnating, and Hunavatnsting Brandsstaeaannáll also proved to be invaluable publications.
Several noteworthy books and articles have been written about the Illugastaeir murders, and the life (and death) of Natan Ketilsson, including Enginn Má Undan Líta by Guelaugur Guemundsson, Yfirvaldie by Torgeir Torgeirsson, Dauei Natans Ketilssonar by Gunnar S. Torleifsson, Dauei Natans Ketilssonar by Guebrandur Jónsson, Dauei Natans Ketilssonar by Eline Hoffman (translated into Icelandic by Halldór Friejónsson), Friet?ging by Tómas Guemundsson and Agnes of Frierik fyrir og eftir daueann by Sigrún Huld Torgrímsdóttir. While wonderfully useful, some of these publications contradict one another, and some hold a common view of Agnes as ‘an inhumane witch, stirring up murder’. This novel has been written to supply a more ambiguous portrayal of this woman.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I AM INDEBTED TO MANY people who have assisted me with the research and writing of this book. My sincere thanks to Knútur óskarsson and his mother for your generosity and coffee, assistance with translation and all the late night conversations at ósar. Meeting you both remains a singular moment of synchronicity and good fortune. Thank you to Jón Torfason and your fellow archivists at Tjóeskjalasafn íslands for your assistance and enthusiasm, and for finding me the original letters from the trial. Thank you to Guemundur Jóhannsson for your vastly useful letter. To the librarians and staff at the Tjóeminjasafn, árni Magnússon Institute for Icelandic Studies, Kringlan Library, árb?jarsafn and Glumb?r, thank you for your patience and assistance.
To my ‘Icelandic family’ – takka tér k?rlega fyrir. Without you this novel could never have been written. My love and gratitude to dear Pétur Bj?rnsson, Regína Gunnarsdóttir, Hera Birgisdóttir, Halldór Siguresson, Sylvía D?gg Gunnarsdóttir and María Reynisdóttir, for your kindness, spare beds and generosity. I am also grateful to the many other Icelanders I have met who have contributed to this novel in strange and various ways. I hope you see this novel as the dark love letter to Iceland I intend it to be.
Thanks to those at Flinders University, especially Ruth Starke, who has supported me since the very beginning. Thank you to my early readers, Kylie Cardell and Kalinda Ashton, and to Kate Douglas, David Sornig and Bec Starford for your friendship and the opportunities you have given me.
To Geraldine Brooks, for your sage observations and mentorship – thank you so much. To the Writing Australia Unpublished Manuscript Award, the SA Writers’ Centre and to Peter Bishop, Valerie Parv, Patrick Allington and Mark Macleod for your generous comments: thank you.
I’m ever so grateful to the marvellous Pippa Masson and dear Annabel Blay at Curtis Brown Australia. Thank you to Gordon Wise, Kate Cooper and colleagues at Curtis Brown UK, and to Dan Lazar at Writers House. To Emma Rafferty, Sophie Jonathan, Amanda Brower and Jo Jarrah for your keen eyes and considered suggestions – thank you. To my wonderful publishers, Alex Craig and Paul Baggaley at Picador, and Judy Clain at Little, Brown, thank you for believing in this book.