Celebrating Bólu-Hjálmar: A Journey Through Icelandic Heritage
- Shaune Jonasson
- Sep 26
- 10 min read
Updated: Oct 9
This month’s Interesting Icelander profiles Bólu-Hjálmar, one of Iceland’s notable folk poets, whose sharp wit and satirical views were often received with mixed reviews. He was most noted for his mastery of rimur, a short poetic narrative. He was also an accomplished woodcarver. Life for Bólu-Hjálmar was far from easy and not without strife. Despite these challenges, he lived a colorful life for 80 years. It is my privilege and honor to write this post. Whatever he was to so many, I am a direct descendant of Bólu-Hjálmar/Hjálmar Jónsson; he is my three times great-grandfather.
The Early Life of Hjálmar Jónsson
Hjálmar Jónsson (I20657), most often referred to as Bólu-Hjálmar, entered this world on the night of 29 September 1796. Had one woman not intervened, his life would have been tragically cut short. He was born to a young, unwed farm worker, Marsibil Semingsdóttir (I20604). His birth record states his father was Jón Benediktsson (I220646). Despite being uncontested by Jón, some have questioned the paternity. Both Marsibil and Jón had other children, leaving Hjálmar with six half-siblings, none of whom he knew.
Historical accounts tell us that Marsibil was traveling alone to visit family when she stopped overnight at a farm called Hallandi in Eyjafjörður, across the water to the east of Akureyri. That night, she bore a son but immediately gave him up, as she had no means to care for him. Directed by the farm owner, his maid placed the hours-old infant in a bag and set out to deliver the child to the district governor to be “disposed of,” as was the practice of the time.
As fate would have it, bad weather forced her to stop at a farm called Dálksstaðir, a short distance from Hallandi (approximately 8 km according to the map). Here lived a widow, Sigríður Jónsdóttir (I85495).
The storm lasted for a couple of days. Afterward, Sigríður assured the maid that she would continue the journey to the governor and that the maid should return to her farm. However, Sigríður had a change of heart. She kept the child, naming him Hjálmar Jónsson.
A Loving Upbringing
At the age of six, Hjálmar traveled with Sigríður to an elderly friend’s house, Oddur Gunnarsson. He would remain for the winter with Oddur, his wife, and sons. Oddur was described as eloquent and learned, a true gentleman intent on impressing this style on Hjálmar. He encouraged him to write poems, many of which were shared—a common practice among the learned. Oddur praised Hjálmar but also served punishment when necessary. He even predicted that Hjálmar would be a poet.
Oddur’s younger son, Jón Oddsson, was often the recipient of Hjálmar’s early verses. Jón and Hjálmar remained friends throughout the years, with Jón aiding Hjálmar during his lean later years.
Sigríður and Hjálmar shared a loving and close relationship until her death in 1810 when Hjálmar was just fourteen.
His birth mother, Marsibil, lived until her fifties but never sought her son. Working as a farmhand all her years, she was labeled as having low intelligence and was illiterate. Hjálmar was her second child of four.
Hjálmar’s father, Jón Benediktsson, was identified as a good worker and a bit of a poet himself, but he had questionable behavior. While Hjálmar was in Sigríður's care, his father met and married Valgerður Jónsdóttir (I20647), the daughter of Sigríður, Hjálmar’s foster mother. After Sigríður died, Hjálmar moved in with Jón and Valgerður. Living with them proved difficult. They had very little to spare and an infant daughter to raise. Hjálmar started to make his own way, working on farms and in fishing.
A Blossoming Poet
At 24, Hjálmar was working at Silfrastaðir. The farm bordered another farm where his aunt, Guðbjörg Ólafsdóttir, sister to Marsibil, and her family worked. Hjálmar got to know his cousins well, especially the eldest daughter, Guðny. She captured Hjálmar’s heart. Later that year, Guðny gave birth to a daughter, Sigríður, named after Hjálmar’s foster mother. Sadly, the child died in infancy. The next spring, they were married and relocated to Bakki, where they built a home. In December 1822, their first son, Skúli Friðrik, was born.
In 1824, they moved to Nyabær. Their farm was successful by their accounts but fraught with challenges and disputes between neighbors. They relocated once again in 1827 to Upsala. Two more sons, Hjálmar (1830) and Ólafur (1831), were born.
Six years later, the family moved to Bólstaðargerði, which Hjálmar renamed “Bóla.” It was here that Hjálmar adopted the name Bólu-Hjálmar, a tribute to the area and his home. Two more daughters were born here, Sigríður (1834) and Guðrún (1837).
Trials and Tribulations
Many historical accounts claim Hjálmar was accused of stealing sheep from the neighbors, a serious crime with dire consequences during that era. In the foray, the officials who searched for evidence left a candle burning, resulting in extensive fire damage to Hjálmar’s family home. The family had no choice but to persevere through the winter with insufficient shelter and provisions.
In spring of 1839, the situation was still under investigation. Hjálmar, representing himself, pleaded his case with the local magistrate. As a result, he was fully acquitted of all charges. Unfortunately, due to ongoing proceedings, despite the acquittal, Hjálmar was responsible for reconciling the court's costs.
The community did not accept the court's decision, and troubled relationships persisted. Hjálmar's family home in Bóla, once his dream, was now tarnished, and the farm started to fall into ruin. Disgrace weighed heavily on both Guðny and Hjálmar, as evident by his failing health. Yet, Guðny stood by him throughout.
Hjálmar resigned himself to the fact that he could no longer continue farming in the same manner. He was never one to be idle. There was genuine satisfaction in farming. Hjálmar continued writing and crafting, tasks that were less physical but also very satisfying.
As an avid woodcarver, Hjálmar created numerous artifacts, many presented as gifts to friends. A cabinet depicting an image of man's fall from grace was one of his more well-known creations. His name is carved at the top, with Adam and Eve standing under the tree with forbidden fruit at the bottom.
An anecdotal story tells of a uniquely carved bedframe Hjálmar had given to a friend. She became frail and was preparing to move, planning to give the bedframe to a local museum. One night, Hjálmar, who had already died, came to her in a dream. A blanket was draped around his shoulders that he then laid over her. She remembered feeling comforted by this dream. In the morning, she decided that the bedframe would never leave her until she had also died.
Many of his carved masterpieces have been recovered and are housed at The National Museum in Iceland, the Áshús museum building located in Glambær, and the New Iceland Heritage Museum in Gimli, Manitoba, to name a few.
The Poet's Voice
Bólu-Hjálmar eloquently conveyed his thoughts and emotions in verse, whether it was a quarrel with neighbors or bidding farewell to friends departing for America. His writings were often satirical, injected with seriousness and sometimes disdain. They carried a somber tone after loss. He even wrote his own epitaph in verse.
The clashes with his contemporaries or quarrels with neighbors labeled him temperamental, close-minded, and opinionated. He had a mistrust for the constabulary and the oversight of the church; yet many pastors held him in high regard, some becoming close friends and supporters. Hjálmar withdrew from those who caused him angst. He was frequently disliked. Those who didn’t understand his true character became afraid of him. He held his friends dear, while his enemies remained his enemies.
It wasn’t until the family traveled to Skagafjörður that they felt differently. They were welcomed by friends and admirers, all demonstrating a great deal of respect for his written work and artistic talent. He was unaware that his work had reached beyond his former environment.
Hjálmar remained a very social person who always enjoyed intellectual exchanges. He was often invited to share his poetry in public settings. Reciting “odes” and storytelling were met with enthusiasm. Word sparring challenges with like-minded neighbors led to contests of one-upmanship.
The family settled as farmhands at Minni-Akrar, which proved more challenging than expected. His health was in a slow decline, as was Guðny’s. She died in June 1845.
Life After Loss
After losing the love of his life, Hjálmar’s depression amplified his bent and broken body. The younger three children still required care. Hjálmar’s youngest daughter, Guðrún, six at the time of her mother’s death, remained close to Hjálmar, caring for him and the farm until his death. Guðrún never married but had five children, two of whom lived to adulthood and have many descendants.
Additionally, Hólmfríður Einarsdóttir (I22540), a single woman from Fremrikot, gave birth to a boy on 15 December 1834. She died shortly after the birth, rendering the boy an orphan. The infant was adopted and originally given the name Benjamín Hólmfríðurson. Hjálmar initially declined the claim of paternity. After many years, legend claims Hjálmar wrote to Benjamin, allowing him to use the surname Hjálmarsson. Benjamin had been known as Hansson but later chose Hjálmarsson. He is a descendant of Bólu-Hjálmar.
Hjálmar remained at Minni-Akrar for over 27 years. After Guðny’s death, his broken spirit was reflected in his writing. He found sharing time with friends comforting, many of whom appreciated his work and rewarded him with various means of support.
Hjálmar’s profound knowledge of ancient tales, and his writing of the same, caught the attention of Jón Árnason, a collector of Icelandic folklore. Through a third party, a local area man working with Jón Árnason, Hjálmar's stories were collected for which he received a stipend.
Preserving his life’s written work and an interest in genealogy grew important. His waning physical ability was likely the impetus for this resolve. His eyes became dim, his ears deaf. Most importantly, his twisted and gnarled hands required a pen to be strapped securely in order to write.
Hjálmar saw his first poem in print at the age of 60, something he had never expected to see in his lifetime; he didn’t believe in his popularity. Three friends collaborated, collected his works, and arranged for them to be published. Hjálmar signed the document selling the rights to his work on August 2, 1874. The first volume of his poems was published in 1879. His collected poems were published in two volumes (1915, 1919), and his collected poems, rímur, and prose in four volumes (1949).
A Legacy Remembered
Hjálmar’s grandson, Þórarinn Þórarinsson, the eldest son of Hjálmar’s daughter Guðrún, spent a lot of time with his afi/grandfather. He remembers Hjálmar writing every day until he died. The handwritten words were firm and beautifully scribed, appearing very artistic, especially in the early years. As his hands became more decrepit, the script became less pure.
The years passed, each one causing Hjálmar to appear more stooped. His life was quiet from deafness and darker with impending blindness. Yet, it is said his mind remained sharp, still full of wit. He still visited friends, but to converse, he carried a tablet and pen.
The struggle to overcome poverty and the fight for survival dominated much of Hjálmar's life despite receiving compensation from his works or support from his benefactors and friends. Over the years, he managed to gather a small library of Icelandic and Danish books and manuscripts, including many of his own.
At age 79, he was once again required to relocate because the farm owner was also elderly, and the new owners had no place for Hjálmar. He traveled to Brekka, where he knew the owners. They offered him residency in their “grazing house,” an empty sheep shed vacant while they grazed in the summer fields. His daughter, Guðrún, continued caring for Hjálmar.
A few weeks after settling in Brekka, Hjálmar, bent over his walking stick with a gnarled hand holding tight, went for a short journey. He returned fatigued and laid down for a rest that he never woke up from. Hjálmar Jónsson died on 5 August 1875.
His wish for burial beside his beloved Guðny at Miklibær was granted. Their farmstead at Bóla is now deserted but for the memorial to Bólu-Hjálmar. This memorial was unveiled on the 80th anniversary of the death of Bólu-Hjálmar.
I believe Bólu-Hjálmar would be humbled to know, almost two hundred years later, how well-respected his accomplishments are. His collection of written works, some translated from Icelandic to English, as well as his masterful folk-style wood carvings, are preserved and admired internationally.
The Icelandic Canadian, better known today as The Icelandic Connection, a periodical celebrating Icelandic culture in North America, has referred to Bólu-Hjálmar on occasion. In the Autumn 1964 edition, W.J. Lindal writes about Hjálmar Jonsson, “a bard of Northern Iceland…[who] eked out an existence” and used his poetry as an “expression of love and land in its purest form.”
To commemorate the milestone of his two-hundredth year of birth and to pay tribute to his descendants, Þorsteinn Jónsson published in 1997 the book Bólu-Hjálmar Niðgar og ævi, or Bólu-Hjálmar - Descendants and Life. The family lineages are captured until approximately 1979-1980. (As the content is over forty years since collected, and fifty isn’t far off, I would be interested in learning if a Volume II, a continuation of Bólu-Hjálmar’s descendants, might be created. Maybe for the 250th?)
Additionally, there is a Facebook page for the descendants of Bólu-Hjálmar called Bólu-Hjálmar Ættin. Check your lineage and, if you are a descendant, add your name and your ancestral line.
You never know where you will meet a cousin! I learned that some live closer than expected last May when attending the INLNA convention in Gimli, Manitoba. I was excited to meet two 4th cousins for the first time.
Bólu-Hjálmar was indeed an accomplished, skillful writer and artisan. Many of us owe a great deal of gratitude to the maid who carried the infant to the widow, Sigríður Jónsdóttir. But for her decision to love and raise the child, the world would be a very different place. Takk fyrir!
Lastly, I would like to mention that earlier this month, Icelandic Roots Volunteers and Members were traveling in northern Iceland. While in the area of Glambaer, one of the volunteers read a verse written by Bólu-Hjálmar called BurtfararKveðja (A Farewell).
It was written to a couple of neighbors before their departure to America in the late 1800s. Please click on the title BurtfararKveðja (A Farewell) to read the post. We also offer more background on this poem's origins in an earlier IR article A Roots Road Trip.
REFERENCES:
Bólu-Hjálmar Ritsafn VI Finnur Sigmundson (1949). Æ viágrip, þættir og sagnir. Iceland: Ísafoldarprentsmiðja.
Bólu-Hjálmar Niðgar og ævi Þorsteinn Jónsson 1997 Byggðir og bu ehf.