Norway

I just finished reading a book I bought in 1996 for a dollar—Thelma, by Marie Corelli. The first half is set in Norway north of the Arctic Circle, during the months when the sun never sets. The natives—at least those who haven’t been tainted by the vulgar import of Lutheranism—worship Odin, live purely and face death bravely, even struggling with their last breath to a nearby dingy, which their serf then sets aflame and adrift, creating a suitable burial ground out of the scenic fjord. All this in a book set in the late nineteenth century.

When I heard my Uncle Greg and Aunt Dorcas were taking a trip to Norway, I decided to do a quick internet search about what’s going on today in the fjord where the story was set. It looks like the residents are still living like Norse gods, but using motorcycles rather than Viking ships. And they have a bawdier sense of humor.