Table of Contents Table of Contents
Previous Page  25 / 238 Next Page
Show Menu
Previous Page 25 / 238 Next Page
Page Background


there, like a flower, like music, like a dagger, like sleet, an

abyss, healing light. But whatever life is, extraordinary or

commonplace, it was urgent that Andersen’s ship, the St.

Louise, be undocked. Saint Louise. We don’t know why she

was made a saint, this Louise whom the ship is named after,

why she deserved it, what torments she had to suffer, does

a person have to suffer torments to deserve the name of

saint; can’t she be happy, isn’t it difficult enough in this

world, beautiful enough, noble enough? But it was urgent

that Saint Louise be moved from the pier, another ship was

waiting on the Lagoon, heavy with salt, salt is needed to

cure the fish, and Louise needed to be unloaded in haste,

yes, now the men had an opportunity to show what they

were made of, work like devils and never quit; if their hands

dropped off them with fatigue, they should just screw them

back on. The foreman, Kjartan, was in his element, he’s a

great shouter, great at goading men, sometimes they work

at night, even until morning, and if someone grumbles,

wants to go home, it’s very well, do as you please, but you

won’t be needing to return anytime soon. Skúli has written

pointed articles in opposition to this labour-fervency, an

energetic man, that Skúli, not quite an adept in style, his

sentences aren’t daggers, but rather, hefty cudgels. It’s

amusing that Skúli should stand up to these devils, but it’s

not a whit amusing to lose one’s job, to fall out of favour;

then it’s a struggle to survive— are you supposed to watch

your children starve in the summer, drop dead from cold in

the winter; no?, then, unfortunately, it’s better to swallow it

all and work, labour on as you’re ordered. And the St.