I might have mentioned that my Photographer went off to Iceland at a most inopportune time in the book festival period. But, that’s the way it is.
Round about the same time I saw a link to something about Icelandic publishers abandoning covering their books in plastic. I was quite proud of myself for guessing this much (but obviously checked by running the article through Google translate).
Yes, it seems Icelandic books have been appearing covered in plastic, the way I scornfully mentioned in connection with a London bookshop once, who did this covering to make the books collector’s items. (They didn’t appreciate my opinions.)
Anyway, this made Daughter – yes, it was her – pop into a Reykjavik bookshop to check up on the plastic situation. She reported that some, but not all, books were indeed covered.
But her main comment was how expensive the books were. I tried to suggest that Iceland probably is as expensive as Geneva, and for a good reason, but she reckoned it was worse even than Switzerland. It seems that the books just inside the doors were the most expensive, with the cheaper books further in.
What shocked her was that people (=tourists) were buying, what I thought she described as ‘books about sh*tty puffins.’ But my hearing isn’t what it was, and the ‘phone line’ across the North Sea* might not have been at its best. I imagine they were lovely puffin books. Albeit expensive.
Which apparently also went for the Marimekko socks I presumably won’t be getting for Christmas.
Perhaps it was due to the sheer number of prime ministers she came across. All the Nordic ones were there, causing the conference elevators to be out of use, and so was Frau Merkel. There. Not out of use. Whether they shopped for socks or puffin books or anything else I couldn’t say.
*It’s the Atlantic, isn’t it?