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

by Anne Brydon

Department of Anthropology

McGill University, Montreal, Quebec

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

This article is presented in three parts. Read Part I here. Read Part II here.

PART III:

In today's Icelandic Festival, the presentation of the past fits with the multicultural dream of

victory over adversity. The ethnic group arrives in the New World only with its ambitions, and is able to carve out a new and successful life that blends the old with the new and improved. I doubt if there is an ethnic festival in North America that does not do the same: the community or ethnic festival gives a picture of how some members of the group wish to be seen. But what is lost to the community when only a partial view of the past is given? This is a dilemma facing any ethnic group caught between fulfilling a model of “success" and wishing to find a way to stay together.

Attendance at Íslendingadagurinn was declining throughout the 1960s, and there was concern about its continued existence. Perhaps inspired by the 1965 federal policy of multiculturalism, and the celebrations of Canada's centennial year, the Festival was given a facelift. It was changed to a three-day event, with the addition of, among other things, the sailing and car races already taking place in Gimli. Icelandic businessmen from Winnipeg and Gimli established a more efficient Board of Directors and took over the operation of the Festival. The usual programme of speeches and sports became Monday's "traditional programme," and a broad spectrum of entertainments were added on Saturday and Sunday.

Since the changes to the Festival were begun in 1969, criticism has grown of the public portrayal of the Icelandic community in the Festival. Much of the criticism comes from outside the Festival Board, from those active in other Icelandic associations and people interested in their ethnic identity. This opposition differs both in its intensity and in its content.

A current debate questions whether the Festival is or is not Icelandic. There is very little in style which separates it from any other North American celebration: parades, competitions, and midways over­whelm any distinctive ethnic content. The current Board has placed emphasis on keeping the Festival economically solvent, and for good reasons. Attracting more tourists is central to their strategy. Non-Icelandic tourists at the Festival I talked with, though, were puzzled over the "lce­landicness" of the Festival. They could not see it.

Some West Icelanders criticize this em­phasis on finance, which they see as conflicting with the need for more cultural content, as well as alienating a segment of the community. They want more theatre, dance and music, and more emphasis on honouring not only the pioneer past, but also the history of Iceland. Commercialization of the Festival is felt to blunt the authentic feeling and experience which they seek. Interestingly, this desire for more cultural content is also tied up with a public image of success. We can see more and more in Canada how some forms of culture are status symbols. Witness how corporations eagerly buy Canadian art and support theatres and museums. Cultural displays also symbolize the successful community.

Others are less concerned with what the Festival does not present, than with what it does present. They dislike the romantic image of the settlement of New Iceland that is described in the speeches and in the short articles published in the Festival programme. They believe that Festival organizers benefit by presenting themselves publicly as the descendants of those who struggled against adversity to achieve success.

The Shriners are a favourite target for those interested in cultural content. Offended by what is seen as middle-class conventionality and lack of Icelandicness, there is criticism of the cost that the Shriners bring to the Festival. Those who support the Shriners say that the parade would be boring without the colourful spectacle so entertaining for the children. They attract more people to the Festival. Whether the Shriners benefit the Festival is not the question here. Rather, it is how their participation emphasizes differences within the community. Those on the economic side of this debate see no difference between how they define the Icelandic Festival and economic concerns. But those with cultural interests see a contradiction, where Icelandic uniqueness is lost behind a middle-class, North American surface. Yet it is difficult for them to develop cultural alternatives, and not just because of shortages of money and willing workers.

Considerable political negotiation surrounds Íslendingadagurinn. Editorials are written about the Festival and the disap­pearance of Icelandic culture. In response, new events are added by the Board, and one can see how the creation of a viable ethnic festival with a perceived "authentic" content has been attempted over the last twenty years. Concern over the disappearance of West Icelandic culture and a willingness to work together despite differences provides common ground. But locked as they are in rehashing the same arguments, frustration and exhaustion are reducing the numbers willing to put effort into the community.

The time has come to rethink what makes ethnicity important for people today, and to gear personal and public efforts toward it. I argue that a revitalization of our relationship to the past, both in written histories and private memories, should be of central concern. This requires understanding what makes the experience of the past authentic and relevant to present generations, and gearing the Festi­val, associations, and publications towards supporting it.  It isn't a matter of, as one Board member put it, deciding what is Icelandic, and how to capitalize on it. Rather, it is creating an open context for the telling of private stories that are integral to a West Icelandic identity.

To begin, old notions of ethnicity as preservation and propriety must be thrown out in favour of recovering a more human past. My definition of the past is not the same as a nostalgia for an idealized golden age, nor is it a place to escape from present social ills. Earlier in the century, when there was tremendous pressure for immigrants to prove themselves "good Cana­dians," people willingly censored stories that did not promote the multicultural dream. That is an old battle, already won, and it is time to reopen the past before it is lost altogether.  Self-imposed censorship, in both the public and private worlds, must be lifted. This follows recent trends in historical scholarship which focus on everyday life, in all its colourful and at times unsavoury detail. Amongst West Icelanders, there are many such stories which are saved for private telling, or are locked away in diaries. It is felt that they do not fit with public, official Icelandicness, or might be embarrassing to living descendants. In this way, their relevance to West Icelandic identity is overlooked. These stories are a rich resource that are being lost by a self-imposed censorship. For every adult who does not tell a story there is a child who has none to pass along to his or her offspring. Thus a richness and complexity of experience is lost for future generations.

This censorship is not only private but is also public. It is characteristic of ethnic histories, and not just West Icelandic ones, to present a particular image for public consumption. Fear of embarrassment over the stories of David Amason and W.D. Valgardson, and the more recent controversy over Guy Maddin's movie, stem from this preconception of what is proper for public eyes. But it overlooks the community's real need for fresh ideas and innovative thinking. Attempts to control creativity harm the West Icelanders' public image rather than the works of these recognized artists. It is to creative works such as these that West Icelanders should look for inspiration.

How does this relate to the Festival? Going to the Festival is associated with family reunions. Winnipeg residents attend in higher numbers than do those from rural areas, so that a return to the Interlake for the Festival is bound up with a return to a personal past. Kin ties have symbolic value amongst Icelanders, both because of the tradition of genealogical research, and the importance of the family as a social support in Iceland as well as in Canada during the settlement period. The Gimli area remains a focus for large extended families, and the Festival is an occasion to return to the area. The gathering of the family is a yearly opportunity to tell those stories which keep alive and interesting the West Icelandic past.

Fischer likens the operation of ethnic identity to that of dreaming.3 Fragments of stories, customs and myths are passed on from one generation to the next, and become part of the individual's own life experience. Memory and experience blend together, and in the process transform notions of identity and the past. Ethnicity is a reinvention of the past in the present. It is when the present is seen to deny the past that a sense of rupture or loss is felt. Some people who do not feel that the Festival is relevant to their identity are experiencing this rupture and have stopped attending it altogether. Others are able to use the public Festival as a backdrop to reunite with their personal past in the context of family and friends. Not all experiences and memories become labelled as Icelandic, but that does not mean they are not necessary for keeping alive a sense of connection.

The Festival as a story is confused and complex, and it does not seem possible that it could be otherwise. Yet it is a story still unfinished, and it is time that new voices, new characters and new twists of plot appear.

References Cited

3 Fischer, Michael M.J. 1986 Ethnicity and the Post-modern Arts of Memory. Writing Culture. J. Clifford and G.E. Marcus. eds. Pp. I 94233. Berkeley: University of California Press.

** 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 .