ABSTRACT: Halldór Kiljan Laxness is one of the most successful and renowned authors
in all of Iceland. The Nobel Laureate has written many well-known works, one of which
is his early novel Salka Valka (1931-1932), a political romance that follows the life of a young girl in a remote
Icelandic fishing village from age ten to age twenty-five. An interesting feature
of Salka Valka is Laxness’s use of colours and colour symbolism. While Laxness employs a wide variety
of basic and non-basic colour terms throughout the novel to describe various people,
objects, and natural phenomena, most interesting is his use of grey as opposed to
other colours. Laxness uses grey to portray the dreary life and destitute people in
the desolate and remote Icelandic fishing village of Óseyri, which he juxtaposes against
colourful descriptions of the vibrant and flourishing lives of wealthy individuals
both within and outside the village. This article examines these and Laxness’s other
uses of grey as opposed to other colours in Salka Valka, particularly as they relate to the social and economic critique that, as scholars
have noted time and time again, define this novel.
RÉSUMÉ: Halldór Kiljan Laxness, lauréat d’un prix Nobel, est l’un des auteurs à succès
islandais les plus renommés. Le roman Salka Valka (1931-1932), une romance politique figurant parmi ses premières œuvres, retrace la
vie d’une jeune fille dans un village de pêcheurs reculé d’Islande, entre l’âge de
dix et vingt-cinq ans. Une des caractéristiques importantes de Salka Valka est l’utilisation des couleurs et de ce qu’elles symbolisent. Alors que Laxness emploie
une grande variété de couleurs pour décrire les différents personnages, les objets
et les phénomènes naturels tout au long de son roman, son utilisation du gris, avec
lequel il décrit la vie morne et la misère des habitants de Óseyri, contraste de façon
intéressante avec les descriptions colorées de la vie des personnages plus aisés.
Cet article se veut une étude de la palette de couleurs utilisée par Laxness dans
Salka Valka, en s’attardant plus particulièrement au lien qu’entretiennent les couleurs avec
la critique sociale et économique, un aspect fondamental de ce roman.
The many and wide-ranging works of Iceland’s Nobel Laureate Halldór Kiljan Laxness
(1902-1998) have been the subjects of numerous analyses by literary critics. Scholars
have mined Laxness’s novels, stories, plays, poems, and essays for what they reveal
about his development as a writer, examined his political and religious views, assessed
the extent to which they reflect Icelandic and foreign literary trends, and investigated
his positions on a variety of topics, including hero-worship, nationalism, poetry,
and Hollywood. Laxness’s writing style in particular has been much studied; it is
a style so unique that two adjectives have been coined to adequately describe it:
laxneskur and kiljanskur. More than anything else, scholars have analyzed the way in which Laxness’s writing
style, particularly in Íslandsklukkan (1943-1946) [Iceland’s Bell 2003] and Gerpla (1952) [The Happy Warriors 1958], imitates the terse and objective style employed by the authors of the Íslendingasögur [Sagas of Icelanders]. This article seeks to examine through an analysis of Salka Valka (1931-1932; English translation 1936) one aspect of Laxness’s style that has not
yet been considered: his use of colour terms. Salka Valka, one of Laxness’s earlier and best-known novels, lends itself particularly well to
such an examination, since it is considered to be much richer in images, similes,
and descriptions than any of Laxness’s later works (Hallberg 1956 529).
Salka Valka, a political love story, follows the life of a young girl in a remote Icelandic fishing
village from age ten to age twenty-five.
Salka Valka was the second literary work written after Laxness’s return to Iceland from America,
and in
Salka Valka Laxness’s readers begin to see something new: a focus on current issues and, in particular,
on Marxism and class antagonism. As stated by prominent Laxness scholar Peter Hallberg,
[Laxness] is thinking of his own times rather than of the past. The ordinary people’s
conditions are regulated in our society by the same laws now, under home government,
as had applied before, under foreign rule. In Laxness’s next novel, Salka Valka, Arnaldur, the socialist, is made to express himself with more direct relevance to
the situation; as far as we can judge he reproduces the author’s own opinion: ‘But
what was it that happened in 1874, when our finances were separated from those of
Denmark? All that really happened was this: the exploitation of the people was brought
into our own country. The robbers simply changed their nationality.’ (1971 69)
Laxness was becoming fully aware of the class issues and economic exploitation
that was present in early twentieth-century Iceland. He began to see a large divide
between the haves and the have-nots and did not hesitate, using Arnaldur Björnsson
as his mouthpiece, to voice his grievances concerning what he saw as the major economic
and social problems of contemporary Iceland in this popular and, in many ways, groundbreaking
work.
In this politically charged novel, Laxness employs a wide variety of basic and non-basic
colour terms to describe people, objects, and natural phenomena. There are nine basic colour terms (svartur [black], hvítur [white], rauður [red], grænn [green], gulur [yellow], blár [blue], brúnn [brown], grár [grey], and bleikur [pink]) and more than 150 non-basic colour terms accounted for in Modern Icelandic. In Salka Valka, Halldór Laxness makes use of all nine basic colour terms and approximately 40 non-basic
colour terms. Of the latter, two are not found in the standard Modern Icelandic lexicon. These
terms include ebenviði [ebony] and hrollgrár [cold grey].
The colour terms in Salka Valka are carefully chosen and follow consistent patterns that are applied throughout the
work. Particularly interesting is Laxness’s use of grey in opposition to other colours,
particularly as this use of colour relates to the political and, more specifically,
socialist overtones of the work as outlined by Hallberg. Laxness has generally been
known to work in strong contrasts, seen in the extreme character types found in many
of his novels (for example Steinþór and Sigurlína in Salka Valka), and his use of colour symbolism is no exception (Hallberg 1971 76). Laxness uses
the adjective “grey” and varieties of grey throughout the novel to portray the poor,
working-class people
and dreary life in the desolate and remote Icelandic fishing village of Óseyri on
the Axlarfjörður, which is seen in contrast to colourful descriptions of the people
and vibrant life outside the village as well as to portrayals of wealthy individuals
within the village. Furthermore, Laxness often uses grey when describing times of
death, suffering, and loss, but bright colours when describing situations involving
love and life. This juxtaposition of grey to other colours illustrates the general
living conditions in a small, desolate fishing village and in doing so underscores
Laxness’s focus on economic difference and the plight of the working class, topics
that, as scholars have noted time and time again, both define this novel and reflect
Laxness’s political inclinations at the time of its composition.
Grey, the intermediary between black and white, is often considered boring, uninteresting,
and dull (Kouwer 131). Deriving its meaning from ashes, grey symbolizes neutralization,
indifference, and
depression (Cirlot 54); in the medieval period, grey signified penance, humility,
and poverty and was associated
with the drab clothing worn by medieval peasants (Blanch 74). Grey also symbolizes
bad weather and dreariness, and can represent death (Kouwer 131). Drawing from this
symbolism, Laxness describes the homes belonging to the poor,
working-class villagers of Óseyri, which are referred to as þurrabúðir (cottages) and are portrayed elsewhere as merely the remains of old fisher huts with
little decoration other than leafless and flowerless plants, as grey, desolate run-down
shacks that are hardly fit to be called homes: “þessar gráu lángmæddu þurrabúðir sem
klúktu hér einsog gleymdur reki á afskektum sjávarbakka—þær
voru orðnar að herbúðum” [the grey, sorely tested fisher cottages, strewn like forgotten
heaps of wreckage on
a lonely shore, had become the tents of an army] (II 88; 264). This use of grey in describing the buildings, which are seen more as piles of wreckage
than abodes fit for living in, brings forth notions of dreariness, lifelessness and
poverty and both gives a sense of what life is like in such an impoverished and hopeless
place as Óseyri on the Axlarfjörður and visually sets the stage for Laxness’s social
critique on economic injustice in early twentieth-century Iceland.
In contrast, Laxness uses colours other than grey (most of which are bright and vibrant)
to describe foreign settings and the homes of prosperous villagers—the most prosperous
of whom, it should be noted, is a Dane. Colour, or at least more colour than is present
in the cottages in Óseyri, is alluded to when Salka Valka speaks of traveling to Reykjavík
in the beginning of the novel: “Altaf síðan við lögðum á stað hef ég verið að hlakka
til að koma suður og sjá þessi
stóru máluðu hús og þessar fínu stofur og myndir á veggjunum, einsog þú talaðir um
mamma. Ég vil eiga heima í soleiðis stofu” [Ever since we started I’ve been looking
forward so much to getting to the south and
seeing those painted houses and pretty rooms with pictures hanging on the walls, which
you told me about. I want to live in a cottage like that] (I 13; 14). Although no
specific colour is mentioned in Salka Valka’s statement, the description
of the houses in the south conjures up images of brightly painted houses whose inhabitants
want for nothing. Within the village, the homes belonging to the few wealthy villagers
are brightly coloured. The home of the rector and rural dean is green, which is commonly
associated with vigour and life (Luckiesh 115); white and red, colours also associated
with life (Cirlot 54, Gummere 3-4), are used to describe the Kof estate, which belongs
to Arnaldur’s aunt Herborg. Such
descriptions make the houses in the south and these two painted homes stand out against
the grey, lifeless buildings found throughout Óseyri, but more importantly for Laxness’s
purposes emphasize the difference in the standards of living through the contrast
between these beautifully coloured homes and the bleak and desolate circumstances
in which the majority of Óseyri’s citizens are forced to live.
The contrast of the grey and bright colours as a means through which to convey and
criticize an extreme difference in social and economic status between the upper and
working classes is most clearly seen when we compare the grey, run-down shacks of
Óseyri’s villagers to the estate of the Danish merchant Johann Bogesen (referred to
as the only “real” house in the village):
… hið skrautlega steinhús Jóhanns kaupmanns Bogesens sjálfs, snjóhvítt einsog mjöllin
yfir heiðunum, rislaust, með ótal ferstrendum tökkum uppúr þakbrúnunum í líkíngu við
forna virkismúra. Þar sást hvergi frostrós á rúðu, en gul silkitjöld dregin til hálfs
fyrir glugga á báðum hæðum. (I 37-38)
[Johann Bogesen’s splendid cement villa, a building white as the mountain snows, with
a flat roof and innumerable castellations along each side, in the style of an old
fortress. Here not a single ice-flower was to be seen on the window-panes, against
which yellow silk curtains were drawn halfway across on both floors.] (32)
In this description and in many others of Johann Bogesen and his family, it
is clear that the Bogesens’ living standard is much higher than is the village average
(Sønderholm 147). The use of colour substantiates this notion, and stands out against
the otherwise
grey setting of Óseyri. White is a pleasant colour associated with light, cheer, health,
and goodness (Gummere 3-4); it is also associated with harmony, stability, and peace
(Kouwer 99). Laxness’s description of the Bogesen estate touches on many of these
concepts, not
least stability. The description of the curtains as yellow draws on the association
of yellow with luminosity and the way in which yellow is extravagant, joyful, and
enlivening (Luckiesh 109), and also on yellow’s association with magnanimity and
intellect (Cirlot 54). Laxness sarcastically associates magnanimity with Johann Bogesen,
who at every opportunity
reminds the poor villagers, who he condescendingly refers to as “his children,” of
how well he has treated them. This stark contrast between the grey cottages and Johann Bogesen’s white mansion
shows both the economic gap between the rich and the poor and the general standard
of living in the village, and drives home Laxness’s social and economic critique on
early twentieth-century Icelandic society as previously defined by Hallberg; while
Johann Bogesen, representative of the members of the upper class Icelandic government
who established themselves following Iceland’s achievement of independence, lives
comfortably and happily in his white villa with yellow curtains, the impoverished
villagers, representative of the exploited “ordinary” Icelandic working-class citizens,
live dreary and hopeless lives in their run-down,
grey shacks with little to look forward to other than their funerals, which, Laxness
is sure to emphasize, they are expected to pay for themselves with years’ worth of
their own hard-earned wages.
Laxness uses grey not only to portray the desolate living conditions in the village
of Óseyri, but also its poverty-stricken citizens. This is seen most clearly in the
grey clothing worn by the working-class characters in the novel, which recalls the
grey worn by peasants in the medieval period and as such reflects the villagers’ impoverished
state. Grey is also one of the colours of non-dyed sheep’s wool (along with brown
and black), and wool has been one of the most commonly used fabrics in Scandinavia
since the Viking period and most likely before (von Bergen and Mauersberger 150,
Ewing 132-33); this was surely the case in Iceland as well. Wool was also most certainly the most
affordable and readily available fabric in rural Iceland during the early twentieth
century. Colourfully dyed fabrics of other materials had to be imported, and clothing
imports were one of the most expensive imports during the early twentieth century
(Mead 140); the impoverished villagers in Óseyri would hardly have had access to such
a luxury
as imported fabric, especially on the meager allowances given to them by Johann Bogesen.
Salka Valka, who is poor throughout most of the novel, wears brown trousers and a
grey sweater as a child: “Það var eitt kvöld um vorið, að telpan kom neðanúr bænum
í mórauðum buxum og grárri
peysu” [One spring evening the little girl was walking home, wearing brown trousers
and a
grey woolen jersey] (I 137; 101). As a full-grown woman, Salka Valka still wears grey; she wears “gráar buxurnar” [grey
trousers] and later is clothed “í grárri þykkri peysu” [in a thick grey jersey] (I
137; 360). Although Salka Valka herself is lively, strong, and ambitious, she is still
a proletarian,
and her clothing reflects this role.
This grey costume is worn not only by Salka Valka, but also by the majority of the
impoverished citizens of Óseyri. Salka Valka’s mother, Sigurlína Jónsdóttir, wears
an old grey dress and grey stockings. Even her face is grey (from seasickness) at
the beginning of the novel. Steinþór Steinsson (who is also has steel-grey eyes) wears
grey, although interestingly he also wears blue trousers and a red handkerchief (see
below). The elderly people of Mararbúð with whom Sigurlína and Salka Valka find lodging
are very poor, and the blind old man of the house, Eyjólfur, wears a grey shirt:
Sigurlína sagði af létta um þeirra hag, en bráðlega kom húsbóndinn, sköllóttur maður
með gráan skegghýúng, gulur einsog bókfell af innisetum, og handhnýttur eftir gamalt
erfiði, í grárri skyrtu, með stóra flókaskó á fótum; hann hélt postullega á netjariðli
í hendinni; mæðgurnar geingu fyrir hann og heilsuðu honum. (I 71)
[Sigurlína embarked on her story, and soon the master of the house came in, a bald
old man with grey wisps of beard as yellow as the inside of parchment and with hands
knotted by past toil. He wore a grey shirt and had large felt shoes on his feet; he
had a netting-needle and mesh in his hands, which made him look like an apostle. Mother
and daughter went up to him and said good-day.] (55)
In the second book, after he becomes a poor and starving communist, Arnaldur
Björnsson wears predominantly grey clothing; he is said to be clad in a grey, shabby
suit, the only smart thing about which was a red tie (sundurgerð var ekki í klæðaburði
hans önnur en slaufan, hún var rauð) (II 105), which Salka Valka thinks is “positively
absurd.” Since the red of Arnaldur’s tie in this instance clearly does not carry with
it any
kind of upper class connotation or implication of privilege that comes with owning
a scarf of bright colour, it instead likely represents Arnaldur’s passion for the
communist movement in Óseyri, as communism is traditionally connected to the colour
red (Luckiesh 100).
Foreigners and prosperous villagers, on the other hand, wear bright and colourful
clothes in order to signify their social and economic status. It could certainly be
argued that this is one of Laxness’s early attempts to draw on saga motifs, since
coloured clothing was often linked to prosperity in the Íslendingasögur. In Salka Valka, the women who arrive on boats from the south wear multicoloured clothes upon their
brief stops in Óseyri, “einsog taglið á norðurljósunum” [like the streamers of the
northern lights] (II 67; 251). During one of their lessons, Arnaldur tells Salka Valka
that his mother, the beautiful
woman beyond the blue mountains, wears blue, a colour which symbolizes expensiveness
and luxury (Jacobs and Jacobs 30): “Hún er í blárri kápu og eins falleg og konurnar
í útlendu myndablöðunum sem kaupmannsfrúin
fær, nei þúsund miljón sinnum fallegri” [She wears a blue cloak, and is pretty as
the women in the foreign illustrated papers
the merchant’s wife has sent to her; no, a thousand million times prettier] (I 105;
78). Young Arnaldur has romanticized ideas about his deceased mother, and in his imagination
has her clad in the most beautiful and luxurious clothes possible, represented by
his choice of the colour blue. One may also see in Arnaldur’s description of his divinized
mother associations with the Virgin Mary, who is often portrayed in mantles of blue
(Jacobs and Jacobs 29).
Within the village, the members of the prosperous Bogesen family are, of course, colourfully
clad. Johann Bogesen’s wife, for example, wears a green dress. She is so striking
and grand in her green dress that she is even perceived as royal (Luckiesh 115):
“Rétt á eftir birtust frúin sjálf í eldhúsinu, klædd í grænan sparikjól, og svo tíguleg
og fögur að hún minti á drotníngar í spilum” [Immediately afterwards the mistress
of the house appeared in the kitchen, wearing
a green walking-dress, and so dignified and handsome that she suggested a queen on
a playing card] (I 118; 87). Ágantýr Bogesen, Johann Bogesen’s spoiled son, wears
a blue suit, symbolizing luxury;
after all, he is the son of the mighty Johann Bogesen, presumably the eventual heir
to his father’s wealth, and even engaged to a girl in Copenhagen. As a young adolescent,
Arnaldur Björnsson, who lives with his dignified aunt Herborg at Kof and whose father
lives in Reykjavík, on several occasions wears a blue suit, just like the merchant’s
son. Even Salka Valka wears this luxurious blue on one occasion, namely after Johann
Bogesen has found her crying in the street and has had her bathed and clothed and
sent home in a hand-me-down dress: “Telpan kom heim um kvöldið þvegin og greidd, södd
og sæll, klædd í ljósbláan kjól” [Salka Valka came home in the evening washed and
combed, well-fed and cheerful, wearing
a light-blue frock] (I 119; 88). Salka Valka’s brush with the upper class provides
her with the only piece of fine
clothing she has as a child, and when wearing it she feels happy, as though she can
but for a moment escape who she really is and play dress-up as a member of the upper
class; however, after wearing it every day, Salka Valka’s new dress eventually becomes
worn and tattered and she is forced to return to reality and the position to which
she has been assigned in society—a stinging commentary on the possibility of social
mobility in such a culture. Steinþór Steinsson seems to be the only person in Óseyri who is able to move up in
social class, although he does so through illegal acquisition of wealth. As noted
above, he wears blue trousers and a red handkerchief and after his return from abroad,
he has on a blue Cheviot tweed suit and new brown boots; in addition to the aforementioned
signification of blue, these descriptions draw on the association of brown leather
with luxury and expensiveness, and the association of red with passion and sentiment,
which is appropriate for this local hero whose vigour and whose passion for Salka
Valka define him throughout the novel (Cirlot 54).
The scenery in Óseyri is predominantly grey and underscores the hopelessness and bleakness
of the village and, more specifically, the plight of its economically oppressed citizens.
Erik Sønderholm has noted that the weather in Salka Valka plays a significant role; it is most often dismal and provides an excellent background
both for the economic realities of the village’s inhabitants as well as for the tragic
scene at the end of the novel when Arnaldur departs for America on a cold and damp
autumn evening, leaving Salka Valka alone in her desolate homeland (163). Not only
are the clouds above the village grey, but also the sky; rarely does the
sun shine in Óseyri and rarely is the weather favourable. Even the dawn is grey: “En
með gráu morgunsárinu sem fælir sætustu draumana burt” [It was not till the grey of
dawn, which scares away the sweetest dreams] (I 148; 108). This grey dawn reflects
a complete loss of hope and warmth; not even dreams can
survive in this desolate place. The fjords also take on the greyness of the village
in order to emphasize the lifelessness and utter hopelessness of Óseyri and the social
and economic reality it represents, and their presence is so lifeless that they are
seen as an obstacle to imagination, which cannot function where hope does not exist.
Laxness uses grey not only as a tool for political and social commentary, but also
in order to illustrate some of the most tragic scenes within the novel—those of loss,
suffering, and death, all of which are seen predominantly against the backdrop of
grey weather and scenery. The scenery is kaldgrár [cold grey] on the morning that Steinþór flees Óseyri, leaving behind Sigurlína,
his lover,
and Salka Valka, whom he had just attempted to rape: “En maðurinn vatt sér útúr dyrunum
í sama mund of hinir aðkomnu ruddust inn og var
þegar horfinn í kaldgráu morgunhúminu” [But the man slipped out of the door as the
others pushed in, and disappeared instantaneously
in the cold grey morning twilight] (I 150; 110). Seen within this grey description
is Salka Valka, who has just experienced the loss
of her innocence, and Sigurlína, who has just experienced the loss of her lover, first
to her daughter and second to Steinþór’s decision to flee. Later in the first book,
Steinþór returns, and he and Sigurlína are engaged and are to be married at a “hallelujah
wedding”; however, days before the joyous event, Steinþór flees once again. Sigurlína is depicted
as sitting and staring over the fjord and into the grey rain when she realizes that
Steinþór has abandoned her once again. She has lost her lover for the second time,
and the sorrow of this loss is epitomized in the grey, rainy day.
Laxness also uses grey in depictions of death. The most poignant example is probably Sigurlína’s suicide. Because she kills herself
on Easter Sunday, scholars have noted that Sigurlína’s life and indeed the entirety
of Þú vínviður hreini “er en passionsskildring, hvor den lidende ikke er Jesus, men mennesket, konkretisert
i Salka Valkas moders skikkelse og skæbne” [is a passion portrayal, where the one
who suffers is not Jesus, but the human being,
concentrated in Salka Valka’s mother’s form and fate] (Sønderholm 141). Similar to
the passion of Christ, Sigurlína’s tragic “passion” is clouded in darkness, and her
surroundings are primarily grey, an adjective more
specific, more dreary, and more hopeless than darkness. Laxness brings together grey clothing, scenery, and weather to depict this event.
The weather is grey upon the discovery of Sigurlína’s body, setting the scene for
this tragedy and for Salka Valka’s loss of the mother she simultaneously loved and
despised: “Svo héldu menn áfram að rölta afturábak og áfram um flæðarmálið í gráu
páskaregninu” [And everyone went on searching up and down along the shore in the grey
Easter rain] (I 289; 203). Washed up alongside Sigurlína on this grey day is a piece
of flotsam, which is also
grey, so that even nature reflects this lifeless and sorrowful scene. Sigurlína herself
wears an old and ragged grey dress with grey stockings, stressing both her poverty
and her lifelessness. It is also no surprise that Sigurlína, whose futile existence is best symbolized
by the hopeless, indifferent, and depressing colour grey, ends her life almost entirely
in greyness. In recounting the passion of Christ, there is some hope as he is resurrected
on what is now Easter Sunday in a scene in which he wears white and dazzling clothing; for Sigurlína, however, there is no resurrection, a tragic conclusion to her dreary
and hopeless proletarian existence.
Seen in contrast to loss, suffering, and death as grey are love and life, which are
often portrayed colourfully. This is epitomized in the romantic relationship between
Arnaldur and Salka Valka, arguably the only happy time in the novel. For once, the
weather is good, and as Sønderholm notes, only in this paradise-like section of the
novel does the weather deviate from its usual grey dreariness (163). Green, the colour
of fertility, spring, and life, is the colour of the natural landscape during the
high point of Arnaldur and Salka Valka’s relationship. This is initially seen in nature
during the first walk Arnaldur and Salka take together and the point at which they
begin to fall in love:
Næst settust þau niður í grænum hvammi, grasi vöxnum að neðan, en lýngi og blóðbergi
að ofan, ánganin var megn í þvölu næturloftinu, hver andardráttur sameinaði brjóstin
dýpra töfrum moldarinnar. Þau settust fast hvort uppvið annað, heit og rjóð, ljómandi
augum, ölvuð af vorilminum úr fjallinu. (II 263-64)
[They sat down in a green hollow with grass at the bottom and heather and thyme covering
its sides. They sat down close together, warm and red, with glowing eyes, intoxicated
by the spring fragrance from the mountain side.] (377)
Happiness, growth and love are abounding in this colourful description; the
green, flourishing grass reflects the growing love between Salka Valka and Arnaldur
during this beautiful spring day in the mountains. The sky, which is predominantly
grey throughout
Salka Valka, is a noticeable greenish blue (
hinum græna bláma jónsmessuheiðríkjunnar) after Salka Valka and Arnaldur make love for the first time, and like the green
hollow, it brings forth notions of life and heavenliness, again reflecting the joy,
life, and love represented in the relationship between Salka Valka and Arnaldur. Finally,
the sunrise and the sunset are red immediately before Salka Valka and Arnaldur realize
their love for one another, drawing on such associations of red with love and passion
(Kouwer 106). While dawn has previously been described almost exclusively as grey,
the red sunset
and dawn stand out to reflect this rare occurrence of happiness, love, and life in
the bleak and impoverished world of Óseyri.
The contrast of grey to other colours in Salka Valka works to portray the dreary life of loss and suffering in Óseyri as compared to life
in the outside world and the rare occasions of happiness and love within the village;
more importantly, the use of grey as opposed to other colours emphasizes the economic
and class issues that define this novel. Laxness draws on long-standing associations
of grey and other colours such as white, blue, yellow, red, and green in Salka Valka and uses these colours to describe people, clothing, buildings, scenery, and the
weather in order to portray two dichotomous worlds: one of desolateness, poverty,
and despair and the other of comfort, prosperity, and happiness. Though the plot would
not be altered without such colour descriptions, their presence works to bolster Laxness’s
political and social agenda and gives the reader a visual picture of what it means
to live in a place such as Óseyri on the Axlarfjörður, a place where “menn sjái speglast
hver í annars augum sannfærínguna um fánýti þess að vera til” [people see reflected
in each other’s eyes the conviction that existence is futile] (I 10; 11).