Icelandic: a funny old language

I recently returned from a short break in Iceland. There were so many things that fascinated me about this beautiful country. For one, it’s home to just 320,000 people – two-thirds of which live in the Reykjavik area. To be honest, though, it’s a wonder anyone manages to live there at all.

Most of the country is completely uninhabitable. And even those places that are liveable are located in the shadows of active volcanoes or on unforgiving, albeit stunning, stretches of coast.

Another fascinating thing is the people. With everyone speaking near perfect English, Icelanders are one of the most tourist-friendly folk I’ve ever come across. They’re also fiercely proud of their country and its history, and love to tell you stories about when Iceland was first settled by Scandinavians and their Celtic slaves (sorry, wives).

Another thing Icelanders take great pride in is their language – something that struck me immediately on leaving London with Icelandair. The headrests, napkins, coffee cups: everything on board features a little bit of Icelandic. I thought it was a lovely touch, even if the some of the terms did seem a bit lost in translation

I was amazed to learn that Icelandic is the closest living relative to Old Norse – the language of the Vikings. In fact, it’s changed so little since Iceland was settled in the 9th century that today’s Icelanders can still read and understand literature from way back then. That’s crazy. I mean, imagine being able to read Beowulf without getting a degree in Old English first.

This photo, taken at the wonderful Reykjavik 871±2 exhibition, features a poem by warrior and poet (?!) Egill Skallagrίmsson. The Old English translation shows how similar the two languages were – but of course, it bears little resemblance to the English we speak today.

Another thing I love about Icelandic: as in German, it’s completely normal to string lots of little words together to create a monster. So I’d like to leave you with this tongue-twisting 64-character beast, which is (supposedly) Iceland’s longest word.

“Vaðlaheiðarvegavinnuverkfærageymsluskúraútidyralyklakippuhringur – a ring on the key chain for the outer door of the tool storage shed used by road workers on Vaðlaheiði hill.”