The Bell in the Lake by Lars Mytting

 

The Bell in the Lake

Lars Mytting (Translated by Deborah Dawkin) 

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Hot on the heels of Mikael Naemi’s To Cook a Bear, I read another Scandinavian historical novel which, as it happens, also features (amongst other characters) a 19^th century pastor ministering to a remote rural parish. I’m referring to Lars Mytting’s The Bell in the Lake, the first instalment in a projected trilogy, now available in an English translation by Deborah Dawkin.

The novel opens in 1880 in the Norwegian village of Butangen, where young and ambitious Kai Schweigaard has just been appointed pastor.  Butangen is described as being “twenty years behind its neighbouring villages, which were thirty years behind Norway’s towns and cities, which were fifty years behind the rest of Europe”.    Butangen’s richest possession is a 700-year old wooden stave church, decorated with motifs which harken back to pagan beliefs.  Schweigaard knows that the church is uncomfortable and cold, and no longer meets the needs of his parishioners.  He plans to build a new church replacing the old. It helps that there are Germans interested in medieval history who are keen on buying the old stave church and relocating it to Dresden.

Astrid Hekne, daughter of a once-distinguished farming family, is resistant to the project. The two bells in the church tower were paid for and forged by Astrid’s ancestor three centuries before, in memory of conjoined twins Halfrid and Gunhild Hekne, and their mother who died in childbirth.  The bells are reputed to be magical, ringing of their own accord whenever some calamity threatens the community.  As Astrid tries to save the bells and keep them in Butangen, she is also drawn into a love-triangle between Pastor Schweigaard and Gerhard Schönauer, the young German artist and architect tasked with overseeing the relocation project.

Over Lyngen by Hans Dahl

Comparing Mytting’s novel with Naemi’s To Cook a Bear makes for an illuminating exercise.  Both novels cover some similar ground, but their approach is quite different.  Naemi uses the crime genre, spiced with some meta-fictional playfulness, to shed light on a specific period in Scandinavian history.  On the other hand, The Bell in the Lake is more old-fashioned in its narrative style. Which is no bad thing.  Mytting tells story about the trials and tribulations of a small farming village but manages to turn it into an epic tale, with larger-than life characters torn by violent emotions.  There is also, throughout, a strong element of magic.  The villagers are portrayed as still believing in superstitions of old, but it is suggested that there is certainly some truth to their beliefs.  The novel remains rooted in realism, but the supernatural elements give it a mythical twist and suggest a more timeless metaphysical backdrop to the personal stories of the characters.   There’s almost a hint of Thomas Hardy in the portrayal of the hardy villagers whose domestic joys or (more often than not) tragedies bear the weight of history and play out against the timeless cycle of seasons.  The vernacular of the villagers is difficult to translate into English, but Deborah Dawkin does a good job of conveying this through the creation of an archaic-sounding dialect which is used when they speak.

In the concluding Author’s Note, Mytting refers to legends narrated in the areas around Vekkom, Tromsnes, Brekkom and Dovre, which served as the inspiration for the tale of the sisters and the church bells.  The relocation of the stave church is also rooted in reality – in 1842, such a church was, in fact dismantled and rebuilt in a part of Poland which was then under Prussian rule.  The novel has, in fact, an aura of authenticity which adds to its enjoyment.

Despite being the first instalment of a trilogy, The Bell in the Lake may be enjoyed as a standalone novel because it gives adequate closure, whilst leaving enough loose ends to justify a sequel.  I understand that the second volume has already been published in Norwegian, with plans for an English translation to follow.  It finds in yours truly, an eagerly awaiting reader.   
 

Girl walking towards a Stave Church by Hans Andreas Dahl

Kindle Edition, UK edition, 400 pages

Published March 19th 2020 by MacLehose Press (first published 2018)

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Reading this novel put me in the mood of a listening spree of Norwegian music.  The composer who is the symbol of the country is undoubtedly Edvard Grieg.  There are, however, so many other Norwegian composers and musicians to explore!  

I would like to start my short playlist with a versatile musician who started off as a folk-rocker, but is also a composer of orchestral and choral works.  I am referring to Henning Sommerro.   Over 20 years ago, when I was an eager organ student, I came across a recording of his organ improvisations on Gregorian themes. I was impressed and dropped off a letter to him. He very kindly replied, enclosing other cds of his works. I am honoured to say I’m still in touch with him.  Sommerro's most famous composition is probably the song Vårsøg (Longing for Spring), a setting of a poem by Hans Hyldbakk which he wrote in 1977 when he was a member of the eponymous folk group.  It has been covered by many other artists, and is performed here by the choral group Grex Vocalis:

Another of my Norwegian musical heroes is saxophonist Jan Garbarek, a giant of European jazz who has combined the American tradition with influences from Scandinavian folk music and early music.  He is possibly best known outside jazz circles for his collaboration with the Hilliard Ensemble (the ECM album Officium and its sequels).   This is a live performance of Molde Canticle:

The Bell in the Lake often mentions hymns sung by the congregation.  I thought it would be fitting to include here the choral work Aftnen der Stille.  Its composer is Agathe Backer Grøndahl (1847-1907), an influential musician and teacher of the 19^th Century. She would have been writing this, round about the time when the novel is set… 

One of the more controversial composers in Norwegian history is Geirr Tveitt (1908 – 1981). Tveitt was associated with the Neo-Heathenistics, a nationalist movement which totally refuted Christianity, in favour of a return to a neo-pagan Norse system of belief in the ancient gods.  Apart from its aversion to Christianity, the movement’s philosophy was also contentious because of its links to Nazism and its anti-semitic streak.  Whatever one’s take on Tveitt’s beliefs, however, his music is different and colourful, incorporating Norwegian folk music elements in a way which is much more interesting than twee arrangements of traditional songs.  His concertos for Hardangar fiddle, for instance, not only make use of folk modes, but also put into the spotlight a Norwegian traditional instrument

We move closer to the mainstream with the music of composer, violinist and conductor Johan Halvorsen (1864 – 1935).  Inga Våga Gaustad performs his exquisite Norwegian Air.

One of the younger generation of Norwegian composers is Kim André Arnesen (born 1980). Like the US-based Ola Gjeilo (also Norwegian), Arnesen wrotes choral music which sounds contemporary and yet is lyrical and accessible.  This is the opening movement of his Magnificat, performed at the Nidaros Cathedral.

Can a playlist of Norwegian music not include Grieg?  Of course not!  In honour of the “Sister Bells”, I’ve chosen his piano piece Klokkeklang (“Bell Ringing”) from his Lyric Piece.  It is performed by Norwegian pianist Anne Kaasa.