It’s an inhospitable place, in a way that gives the reader a strong feeling that the presence of humanity is wrong. Bragi paints a picture of a terrain in which it’s difficult to imagine any animal surviving, and indeed animal death-of sheep, reindeer, a dog and birds-plays a prominent part in the story. Like the story itself, the landscape shifts around, objects seem to move, catching the characters off guard, and keeping their mental states-and their relationships with each other-unstable.
They’re described as a grey shifting desert, in turns blindingly sunny and fraught with sandstorms that reduce visibility to mere meters.
The first thing I noticed about this story, and what grabbed my attention so quickly, was the way Bragi evokes the barrenness, the very alienness of the Icelandic highlands. A lot of my criticism of this book stems from the content and structure of the ending, so while I’ll try not to go into specifics, there may be a few spoilers near the end. A couple weeks ago I found a proof copy in the staff room and just like that, it ended up at the top of my list, for better or for worse. I read a preview online and made a mental note to pick it up at some point. This one I’d seen in the shop in hardback and thought it sounded interesting. I have quite mixed opinions about The Ice Lands (by Steinar Bragi, Macmillan, 2016), which is relatively rare for me: I’m normally quite good at picking books that I know I’ll like.
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