Returning to the Present: Icelandic Identity and the Festival (Part I)

by Anne Brydon

Department of Anthropology

McGill University, Montreal, Quebec

**Reprinted from Icelandic Canadian v.48 n.2 Winter 1989, p.13–19.

The following article is presented in three parts. Read Part II here. Read Part III here.

PART 1:

Islendinga­dagurinn celebration held annually in Gimli, Manitoba, Canada.

In this paper I wish to express some general thoughts about our always uneasy relationship to the past, and the role that public festivals play in our attempts to reflect upon and represent an understanding of ourselves. The annual Islendinga­dagurinn provides a most interesting occasion for such a discussion, since it contains within its three days of fun and celebration an image of the West Icelandic community and its relationship to Canadian society.

Sorting out who we are is an integral part of human life, and ethnicity—the feeling of belonging to a group sharing common biology, language and history—is just one example of how people define their group in relationship to others. And it is through our myths—the stories that we tell ourselves about ourselves—that we are able to think about our identity. When I say 'myth,' I do not mean that such stories are thus fictional, mere fables to be told to children. Rather, myths are powerful and persuasive narratives which we use to organize and interpret our life experience, and to make at least partial sense of our existence.

Since World War II, we have seen the rise of ethnicities and nationalisms worldwide. These traditional loyalties often appear out of place in a world of multinational corporations and mass communications. Yet one characteristic of this so-called 'new ethnicity' is how history is used to define a people: who they are, where they come from, and why they are the way they are. In this way, what can appear to us as a backward clinging to outmoded traditions is actually a creative use of historical myths to unify a group in the face of present challenges.

This is the case for older ethnic groups in North America, descendants of the massive waves of settlers which flooded the continent at the turn of the century. Separ­ated from their homes and families, these people were caught up in the delicate task of creating a new identity they hoped would preserve their sense of a unique past while remaining relevant to the lives of their descendants.

Since we live in a time of rapid change, it is not surprising that we wish to regain or retain a sense of our past. We build museums and restore old villages, mark historic sites, and buy magazines speciali­zing in some form of nostalgia. Collecting any and every possible object—from baseball cards and pop bottles, to folk art and pioneer farm tools—is yet another way in which we try to hang onto the past so that our lives might have a sense of continuity and relevance. For the ethnic group, this connection to the past is essential. Knowledge of a shared history and the passing on of memories in the form of anecdotes and reminiscences, give members of a group a sense of unity and uniqueness. But deciding how that history is presented and what memories are passed on is often a matter of accident, circumstance and argument, as well as economics and politics.

Increasingly, a sense of the past is created and presented through community celebrations. Such festivals are more than just a relaxing time spent away from work or school. They are also secular rituals, moments in which we renew and redefine our sense of self. The ancestry of festivals is surprisingly old, going back to the pre-Lenten carnivals of medieval Europe. These celebrations were opportunities for the poor to satirize the rich who controlled their lives, and to reverse the morals of everyday life with lusty and drunken behaviour. It was a ritual of release, an escape from the usual routine and grinding hardship of daily life. But the new middle class which began to dominate during the 17th and 18th centuries, feared these disruptions of social order, and enacted laws to control the revelries. At the same time, merchants began to use these festivals as opportunities to sell their goods. More and more, festivals became occasions for decorum and profit while their drunken revelry lessened.

During the 19th century, with the com­ing of the great world expositions of Paris and London, the festival once again changed. Not only were they trade fairs for the new industries of Europe, these events celebrated the newly-created nation-states. The needs of industry became wedded with laudatory images of national identity. Manning, in his study of modern-day cele­brations, talks of the role the festival plays in defining North American communities. He calls them "symbolic battlefields for waging competitive struggles for power, prestige and material objectives."1 Community celebrations are used to represent the norms and values of the middle class by presenting images of propriety and social success. As traditional society with its dependence on family ties breaks apart, celebrations are more and more providing a basis for shared values and norms.

References Cited

1 Manning, Frank 1983 The Celebration of Society. Bowling Green, Ohio: Bowling Green University Press, p. 7.

** Editor's Note: The Icelandic Connection magazine began publishing in 1942 as The Icelandic Canadian. The name was changed in 2010 to reflect the diversity of the readership. Icelandic Roots is a supporter of The Icelandic Connection and is sharing archival articles with the permission of the magazine. To learn more, visit the website at Icelandic Connection Magazine.