Folklore: The sui generis nature of a superstitious Iceland
Scientifically they are charged particles trapped in the Earth’s magnetic field. Mystically, they are the Northern lights. Iceland is a country where natural wonders are abundant. Volcanic islands sit on standby beside the mainland, remnants of lava formations create oddly rippled mountain ranges and blue lagoons beckon.
Iceland is an ecosystem with a visible pulse and a bipolar personality. It is so unpredictable in its beauty and bizarreness that a seductive view can quickly become life threatening. In 2017 a tourist fell off a cliff while hiking in the notoriously gnarled highlands. Another tourist, in the same month, fell from a mountain after veering off the official track. Considering both its beauty and danger, it is a landscape that is so revered by its local people that it has been the ideal setting to breed belief in the supernatural. Uniquely, Icelandic supernatural beliefs are connected to environmental phenomena, rather than to people. This avoids the inhuman acts that superstition can otherwise cause between humans.
Since the twelfth century, Icelandic folklore has acted as a kind of mystical guide passed down to children so that they have the know-how to survive the treacherous environment. There are the Huldufólk (hidden people), who are elves that live like small invisible humans. Álfhól (small wooden churches) have been built over the countryside, so that an elf can be converted to Christianity should they wish. Trolls have morphed into stone pillars along the beaches of the mainland. Each supernatural being is related to an aspect of the landscape. Each story tells a child how to act around that land to avoid the danger of the creature, and therefore the danger of the environment itself. If you disturb the rock faces, you disturb the elves.
Although these tales are part of childhood education, the number of adults who continue to believe suggests that there’s something more to it. Roughly 50% of the population (according to National Geographic) believe in the folklore creatures, or believe they possibly exist and are wary of them…just in case. For example, the Gálgahraun Road construction team changed the direction of their construction to respect the wishes of elves. This was after several attempts to build close to the lava fields (said to house elves) resulted in inexplicable machinery breakages. Heeding the warnings, the construction team re-oriented and built elsewhere.
Icelandic folklore differs from superstition in that while both rely on a strong belief in the supernatural, folklore hinges itself on trust in the way the natural (and imagined) world works, while superstition requires irrational fear and ultimatums with oneself and between humans. Superstition is not about working with others, rather it’s about good and evil–and luck! There’s no learning or guaranteed outcome of superstition, simply a selfish and fearful reasoning to explain strange occurrences. Humans are a danger to each other when the fearful superstition drives violence.
The Salem Witch Trials resulted in 20 murders. They had been found guilty of witchcraft or aiding witchcraft. The hysteria began when two girls became deliriously ill. When a doctor couldn’t logically diagnose the cause of the illness, the people couldn’t find anything to reasonably blame–except each other. In this way superstitious fear is contagious during uncertainty. Even today China is a country steeped in traditional beliefs of supernatural methodology such as Feng Shui. However, the Chinese government recognized the powerful ability that superstition has to scare people, and cause them to break the law or harm others. They created a criminal law in 1979 to prevent the spread of superstition in the media.
Most adults feel comfortable debunking superstitions, and disbelieving fantastical creatures. Yet perhaps there is something to the peaceful equilibrium that a belief in folklore creates between the Icelandic population and their natural environment. By having creatures with personalities attached to elements of the land, it encourages sympathy and a wary respect from the human population.
The relationship between the Icelandic population and its folklore has proven to be sui generis, like no other in its attachment to the natural environment and in timelessness.