Scan barcode
khimaera's review against another edition
4.0
Hrímland was first written back in 2014 in Icelandic, translated and then published by Gollancz in the U.K. in 2019, then reached U.S. shores through Titan Books in paperback in October 2020. There is a brilliant piece on John Scalzi's The Big Idea blog about Alexander Dan Vilhjálmsson’s process of translating his own work, exploring the use of language, and deciding what to keep or not along the way. I was delighted at the introduction and glossary that presented me with the proper pronunciations and definitions I would need for some words that were not familiar to me as a U.S. reader. By the second chapter, I was barely having to glance back to make sure I was getting something reasonably right. The word choices helped draw me into the fantastical world of Hrímland. The back of the book mentions Shadows of the Short Days is for fans of China Miéville and Neil Gaiman. I would add to that alchemical blend a touch of Elizabeth Hand and dash of Charles DeLint.
Hrímland is an introduction to an Iceland inhabited by pure humans, huldufólk (extradimensional exiles), huldumanneskja (those born of human and huldufólk parents), náskári (the ravenfolk), marbendill (aquatic folk), and the four landvættir (the spirits of the land). We are introduced to Sæmundur who has been expelled from the Svartiskóli, the School of Supernatural Sciences and driven by an obsessive need for knowledge and understanding of terrifying, undefinable, spoken magic called galdur. Its companion is seiður, a more orderly, land-based, sorcerous energy (seiðmagn) that can be harnessed by industrial means. We also meet Garún, a mixed-breed artist of huldufólk and human parents with a foot in both worlds and part of neither. She is on a singular quest for belonging by destroying the Kalmar Commonwealth’s hold over her homeland and guided at times by her demon-powered audioskull that plays changeable music through her headphones to alert her of danger.
As our two obsessed protagonists continue on their separate journeys, we are introduced to a Reykjavík where everything is a potential threat under an authoritarian regime that is deeply intelligent, crafty, spies on its own citizens, and has no qualms about using violence to put down protests. At their disposal is not only a looming airship and a prison from which none escape, but also disturbing seiðskratti (wielders of seiðmagn) in red robes and plague doctor masks who call to mind the worst imaginings of inquisitional torturers. Sæmundur and Garún continue to spiral into ever deeper shadows and riskier situations in their personal quests from venturing into the Forgotten Downtown to the depths of Svartiskóli’s forbidden magical library. The protest scenes and dystopian atmosphere are very timely as our world sees a rise in authoritarianism and as one character points out, “They will kill us for demanding civil rights and rewrite history to make us sound like hooligans.”
At turns deeply satisfying, rebellious, and disturbing. Vilhjálmsson plays with music, sound, and silence as a part of his rich worldbuilding. At one point he calls this out directly: “As a composer [Sæmundur and Vilhjálmsson both] break up his work with the absence of sound, he used the silences as well to draw in the power from beyond, lying behind the entirety of creation.” If as Vilhjálmsson writes, “No space is as infinite as the gulf between the mind of a living being and the reality outside it,” he has done an excellent job at creating a bridge between one mind and another to draw the reader into his astonishing first novel.
As we get toward the end of this Icelandic opera, we are treated to a carefully orchestrated discordant tone. Where other authors might linger over action in Reykjavík at a particularly dramatic moment, Vilhjálmsson instead pulls us headlong into the obsessive nature of the protagonists with shorter passages switching between the two that rushes the reader into the explosive crescendo of a conclusion that should not be told here, only experienced.
Hrímland is an introduction to an Iceland inhabited by pure humans, huldufólk (extradimensional exiles), huldumanneskja (those born of human and huldufólk parents), náskári (the ravenfolk), marbendill (aquatic folk), and the four landvættir (the spirits of the land). We are introduced to Sæmundur who has been expelled from the Svartiskóli, the School of Supernatural Sciences and driven by an obsessive need for knowledge and understanding of terrifying, undefinable, spoken magic called galdur. Its companion is seiður, a more orderly, land-based, sorcerous energy (seiðmagn) that can be harnessed by industrial means. We also meet Garún, a mixed-breed artist of huldufólk and human parents with a foot in both worlds and part of neither. She is on a singular quest for belonging by destroying the Kalmar Commonwealth’s hold over her homeland and guided at times by her demon-powered audioskull that plays changeable music through her headphones to alert her of danger.
As our two obsessed protagonists continue on their separate journeys, we are introduced to a Reykjavík where everything is a potential threat under an authoritarian regime that is deeply intelligent, crafty, spies on its own citizens, and has no qualms about using violence to put down protests. At their disposal is not only a looming airship and a prison from which none escape, but also disturbing seiðskratti (wielders of seiðmagn) in red robes and plague doctor masks who call to mind the worst imaginings of inquisitional torturers. Sæmundur and Garún continue to spiral into ever deeper shadows and riskier situations in their personal quests from venturing into the Forgotten Downtown to the depths of Svartiskóli’s forbidden magical library. The protest scenes and dystopian atmosphere are very timely as our world sees a rise in authoritarianism and as one character points out, “They will kill us for demanding civil rights and rewrite history to make us sound like hooligans.”
At turns deeply satisfying, rebellious, and disturbing. Vilhjálmsson plays with music, sound, and silence as a part of his rich worldbuilding. At one point he calls this out directly: “As a composer [Sæmundur and Vilhjálmsson both] break up his work with the absence of sound, he used the silences as well to draw in the power from beyond, lying behind the entirety of creation.” If as Vilhjálmsson writes, “No space is as infinite as the gulf between the mind of a living being and the reality outside it,” he has done an excellent job at creating a bridge between one mind and another to draw the reader into his astonishing first novel.
As we get toward the end of this Icelandic opera, we are treated to a carefully orchestrated discordant tone. Where other authors might linger over action in Reykjavík at a particularly dramatic moment, Vilhjálmsson instead pulls us headlong into the obsessive nature of the protagonists with shorter passages switching between the two that rushes the reader into the explosive crescendo of a conclusion that should not be told here, only experienced.
annarella's review against another edition
5.0
This book is amazing and is one the most original fantasy I read this year.
I loved the unusual and original world building, the mix of genres, and the complex and engrossing plot.
The characters are interesting, fleshed out and you cannot help rooting for them.
The plot flows flawlessly and keeps you hooked till the last page.
It was an amazing reading experience and I look forward to reading other books by this author.
Highly recommended!
Many thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine.
I loved the unusual and original world building, the mix of genres, and the complex and engrossing plot.
The characters are interesting, fleshed out and you cannot help rooting for them.
The plot flows flawlessly and keeps you hooked till the last page.
It was an amazing reading experience and I look forward to reading other books by this author.
Highly recommended!
Many thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine.
steinunnkg's review against another edition
2.0
2.5 stjörnur. Hún var fín en hefði mátt vera mun styttri.
unnursvana's review against another edition
dark
tense
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
3.0
This is the second book by Alexander that I read and again I find myself stumbling on the same things. I find the world that the author has created interesting; it’s dark and gloomy and although I think it was a bit brutal to the point where it feels like the author is trying to be edgy, but it was not something that took me out of the story. I would have liked to see more of the world and explore it a bit more as I thought that was the strongest point of the book.
But again, I find myself struggling to get these characters and root for them. I did not really feel like I could understand why these characters here were doing what they were doing. I did not see the point and that makes it a bit hard to enjoy reading about the things that are going on.
annarella's review against another edition
5.0
This book is amazing and is one the most original fantasy I read this year.
I loved the unusual and original world building, the mix of genres, and the complex and engrossing plot.
The characters are interesting, fleshed out and you cannot help rooting for them.
The plot flows flawlessly and keeps you hooked till the last page.
It was an amazing reading experience and I look forward to reading other books by this author.
Highly recommended!
Many thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine.
I loved the unusual and original world building, the mix of genres, and the complex and engrossing plot.
The characters are interesting, fleshed out and you cannot help rooting for them.
The plot flows flawlessly and keeps you hooked till the last page.
It was an amazing reading experience and I look forward to reading other books by this author.
Highly recommended!
Many thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine.
graculus's review against another edition
4.0
A couple of days on from finishing Shadows of the Short Days and I'm still not quite sure what I think about it - when I first heard of it, I thought 'that sounds like something I'd like' and that pretty much turned out to be the case, but it's also an uncomfortable read at times and it did that thing I hate where it just kind of stops without a real conclusion. Apparently it's the first in a duology, which I didn't know at the time, so I guess there's that...
Anyway, on to the book itself. It's set in an alternative Reykjavik, one which is populated by both humans and a variety of other creatures, a colony of Kalmar following an invasion. This is also a country riddled with magic of two kinds, with one of our protagonists (Sæmundur) as a practitioner with radical ideas about the use of said magic and who we first meet as he's being kicked out of the magical university. Part of the story line in this book is his determination to prove everyone else wrong and the disastrous decisions he makes along the way in order to do so.
Our other main character is Garún, half-human and half-huldufólk, she's not accepted by any part of Hrimland society and spends her days trying to foment a revolution and using magically-infused graffiti to cause chaos. Again, she's a character who will literally do whatever it takes to achieve her aims and drag her associates along with her kicking and screaming if she has to. At one point, Garún and Sæmundur had been lovers as well, but this relationship was just as disastrous as everything else in their car crash lives.
Pretty much everyone we meet in Shadows of the Short Days is unpleasant in some way and it's hard to summon up much sympathy for them - Sæmundur in particular is arrogant to the extreme, making one particular decision midway through the book that sums up exactly how much he's prepared for others to sacrifice in order for him to get his own way. It's only later that he starts to pay the price for the decisions he's made and you might start to feel a little bit sorry for him, since he's gone far past the point of being able to walk things back.
The world-building is excellent, with a lot of thought clearly having gone into all of the aspects of Hrimland society (and there's a glossary, which helps with a few Icelandic terms I wasn't 100% familiar with). I had an ARC so hopefully the mis-spellings and homophone issues have been picked up in the actual published version, as they were a little jarring for those of us with perfectionist tendencies. Not sure I'd want to read it again but would very much like to see if the author can tease out an actual ending from all of this.
Anyway, on to the book itself. It's set in an alternative Reykjavik, one which is populated by both humans and a variety of other creatures, a colony of Kalmar following an invasion. This is also a country riddled with magic of two kinds, with one of our protagonists (Sæmundur) as a practitioner with radical ideas about the use of said magic and who we first meet as he's being kicked out of the magical university. Part of the story line in this book is his determination to prove everyone else wrong and the disastrous decisions he makes along the way in order to do so.
Our other main character is Garún, half-human and half-huldufólk, she's not accepted by any part of Hrimland society and spends her days trying to foment a revolution and using magically-infused graffiti to cause chaos. Again, she's a character who will literally do whatever it takes to achieve her aims and drag her associates along with her kicking and screaming if she has to. At one point, Garún and Sæmundur had been lovers as well, but this relationship was just as disastrous as everything else in their car crash lives.
Pretty much everyone we meet in Shadows of the Short Days is unpleasant in some way and it's hard to summon up much sympathy for them - Sæmundur in particular is arrogant to the extreme, making one particular decision midway through the book that sums up exactly how much he's prepared for others to sacrifice in order for him to get his own way. It's only later that he starts to pay the price for the decisions he's made and you might start to feel a little bit sorry for him, since he's gone far past the point of being able to walk things back.
The world-building is excellent, with a lot of thought clearly having gone into all of the aspects of Hrimland society (and there's a glossary, which helps with a few Icelandic terms I wasn't 100% familiar with). I had an ARC so hopefully the mis-spellings and homophone issues have been picked up in the actual published version, as they were a little jarring for those of us with perfectionist tendencies. Not sure I'd want to read it again but would very much like to see if the author can tease out an actual ending from all of this.
More...