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Icelandic

Icelandic: An Essential Grammar is a concise and convenient guide to

the basic grammatical structure of Icelandic.
Presenting a fresh and accessible description of the language, this
engaging Grammar uses clear, jargon-free explanations and sets out
the complexities of Icelandic in short, readable sections. Each grammar
point is illustrated with numerous examples drawn from everyday life,
clarifying the grammatical structure in use while providing insight into
Icelandic culture.
Icelandic: An Essential Grammar is the ideal reference grammar for all
learners of Icelandic, whether class-based or independent, looking to
progress beyond beginner level.
Daisy L. Neijmann has taught Icelandic for close to thirty years in
Canada, the UK and Iceland. She currently teaches Icelandic as a
Second Language at the University of Iceland.
Routledge Essential Grammars
Essential Grammars describe clearly and succinctly the core rules of each
language and are up-to-date and practical reference guides to the most
important aspects of languages used by contemporary native speakers. They
are designed for elementary to intermediate learners and present an acces-
sible description of the language, focusing on the real patterns of use today.
Essential Grammars are a reference source for the learner and user of the
language, irrespective of level, setting out the complexities of the language
in short, readable sections that are clear and free from jargon.
Essential Grammars are ideal either for independent study or for students
in schools, colleges, universities and adult classes of all types.
Essential Grammars are available for the following languages:
Bosnian, Croatian, Montenegrin and Serbian
Catalan
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For more information about this series, please visit: https​:/​/ww​​w​.rou​​tledg​​e​.
com​​/Rout​​ledge​​-Esse​​ntial​​-Gram​​mars/​​book-​​​serie​​s​/SE0​​549
Icelandic
An Essential Grammar

Daisy L. Neijmann
First published 2022
by Routledge
2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN
and by Routledge
605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
© 2022 Daisy L. Neijmann
The right of Daisy L. Neijmann to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by
her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any
form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented,
including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks,
and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
A catalog record has been requested for this book
ISBN: 978-1-138-84331-8 (hbk)
ISBN: 978-1-138-84333-2 (pbk)
ISBN: 978-1-315-73105-6 (ebk)
DOI: 10.4324/9781315731056
Typeset in Sabon
by Deanta Global Publishing Services, Chennai, India
 Contents

Preface xvi
Acknowledgements xviii
Abbreviations and symbols used in the text xx

Part I The Icelandic language: Sounds, letters

and words 1
Chapter 1 The Icelandic alphabet 3

Chapter 2 Pronunciation 5

2.1 Vowel sounds 5

2.2 Vowels: monophthongs 5
2.3 Vowels: diphthongs 7
2.4 Consonants 8
2.5 Consonant types and qualities 8
2.6 Pronunciation of the consonants 10
2.7 Preaspiration (h-insertion) 14
2.8 Devoicing of voiced consonants 14
2.9 Voicing of voiceless consonants 15
2.10 Fricativisation 16
2.11 Clustered consonants 16
2.12 Palatalisation 18
2.13 Vowels before -ng, -nk and -gi 18
2.14 Other points concerning pronunciation 19
2.15 Elision, assimilation, contraction 19
2.16 Stress and length 20 v
Contents 2.17 Ingressive sounds 21
2.18 Pronunciation and inflection 21

Chapter 3 Spelling and punctuation 25

3.1 Spelling 25
3.2 y, ý, ey 26
3.3 -s, -st, -t 27
3.4 Triple-written consonants 27
3.5 J in spelling 27
3.6 One word or more 28
3.7 Writing numerals and figures 29
3.8 The use of capitals and lower case letters 30
3.9 The spelling of foreign words, names and places 31
3.10 Punctuation 32
3.10.1 Full stop 32
3.10.2 Comma 33
3.10.3 Other punctuation 35
3.11 Hyphenation 36

Chapter 4 Words and word formation 39

4.1 Words, roots, and stems 39

4.2 Compound words 40
4.3 Derivation: prefixes and suffixes 41
4.3.1 Prefixes 41
4.3.2 Suffixes 42
4.3.3 Semi-independent final elements 44
4.4 Particles and prepositions 44
4.5 Neologisms 45

Chapter 5 Vowel shifts 47

5.1 Umlaut 47
5.1.1 The U-shift 47
5.1.2 The I-shift 48
5.2 Ablaut 49
5.3 Breaking 50

vi
Part II Parts of speech 51 
Contents

Chapter 6 Verbs 53

6.1 Introduction 53
6.1.1 Function 53
6.1.2 Categories 54
6.1.3 Transitive and intransitive verbs 54
6.2 Infinitive 56
6.3 Indicative mood: active voice 58
6.3.1 Present tense 59
6.3.1.1 Function 59
6.3.1.2 Weak verbs 59
6.3.1.3 Strong verbs 61
6.3.2 Past tense 62
6.3.2.1 Function 62
6.3.2.2 Weak verbs 63
6.3.2.3 Strong verbs 65
6.3.3 Preterite present, modal and auxiliary verbs 68
6.3.4 Other irregular verbs 69
6.3.5 Modal and auxiliary verbs 70
6.3.5.1 Auxiliary and modal verbs followed
by að + infinitive 71
6.3.5.2 Auxiliary verbs followed by bare
infinitive 72
6.3.5.3 Auxiliary and modal verbs followed
by past participle 73
6.3.6 Verb aspects 74
6.3.6.1 Ongoing action 74
6.3.6.2 Beginning action (inchoative) 75
6.3.6.3 Completed action 76
6.3.7 Perfect and participles 77
6.3.7.1 The perfect 77
6.3.7.2 Participles: present and past 78
6.3.7.3 Past participle: weak verbs 80
6.3.7.4 Past participle: strong verbs 82
6.3.7.5 Past participle: preterite present and
other irregular verbs 85
6.4 Passive voice 85
6.4.1 The personal passive: form 86

vii
Contents 6.4.2 Indirect objects, dative and genitive objects,
oblique subjects 87
6.4.3 Passive with verða 88
6.4.4 Impersonal passive: intransitive verbs and
phrasal verbs 89
6.4.5 A little more on usage 91
6.5 Middle voice 94
6.5.1 Form 94
6.5.2 Meaning 96
6.6 Imperative 101
6.6.1 Form 101
6.6.2 Imperative: negative commands 104
6.6.3 Advice and encouragement 104
6.7 Subjunctive 105
6.7.1 Form 105
6.7.1.1 Present subjunctive (Subjunctive I) 105
6.7.1.2 Past subjunctive (Subjunctive II) 106
6.7.2 Function 108
6.7.2.1 Main clauses 109
6.7.2.2 Subordinate clauses 111
6.8 Indirect speech 116
6.9 Reflexive verbs 119
6.10 Impersonal verbs 121
6.11 Phrasal verbs 123
6.12 Adaptation of foreign verbs 125
6.12.1 Form 125
6.12.2 Case assignment 126

Chapter 7 Nouns 129

7.1 Form and function 129

7.1.1 Gender 129
7.1.2 Grammatical case 131
7.1.3 Declension 133
7.1.4 Vowel loss in disyllabic nouns: the syncope rule 134
7.2 Plural forms: weak nouns 134
7.2.1 Masculine 134
7.2.2 Feminine 135
7.2.3 Neuter 136
7.3 Plural forms: strong nouns 137
7.3.1 Masculine 137
7.3.2 Feminine 139
7.3.3 Neuter 141
viii 7.4 Plural nouns and uncountable nouns 142
7.5 Noun declensions 144 
Contents
7.5.1 The weak declension 145
7.5.1.1 Masculine 145
7.5.1.2 Feminine 146
7.5.1.3 Neuter 147
7.5.2 The strong declension 147
7.5.2.1 Masculine 147
7.5.2.2 Feminine 153
7.5.2.3 Neuter 157
7.5.3 Possible pitfalls 159
7.6 Proper nouns 159
7.6.1 Personal names 159
7.6.1.1 Men’s names 161
7.6.1.2 Women’s names 162
7.6.1.3 Exceptional cases 163
7.6.2 Place names 164
7.6.3 Names of the days and months 166
7.7 Nouns of foreign origin 167
7.7.1 Adaptation of foreign words 168
7.8 Articles 172
7.8.1 The definite article: form 172
7.8.2 The suffixed definite article: use 174
7.8.3 The free definite article 178

Chapter 8 Pronouns 181

8.1 Form and function 181

8.2 Personal pronouns 182
8.2.1 Contraction of verbs and pronouns 183
8.2.2 Number and gender 183
8.2.3 Case 185
8.2.4 Summary 186
8.2.5 Idiomatic usage 187
8.3 Possessive pronouns 188
8.3.1 Possessive and genitive forms 188
8.3.2 Declension 189
8.3.3 Position in the sentence 189
8.3.4 Usage 190
8.4 Reflexive pronouns 193
8.4.1 Form and usage 193
8.4.2 Sjálfur 195
8.5 Demonstrative pronouns 197
8.5.1 Þessi 198
8.5.2 Sá 199 ix
Contents 8.5.3 Hinn 200
8.5.4 Other demonstratives: pronouns of similarity
and identity 202
8.6 Interrogative pronouns 203
8.6.1 Interrogative pronouns: hver, hvað, hvor 203
8.6.2 Interrogatives: hvaða, hvílíkur 206
8.6.3 Other interrogatives: adverbs and conjunctions 207
8.7 Indefinite pronouns 210
8.7.1 Einhver, nokkur, ýmis, sumur 211
8.7.1.1 Einhver 211
8.7.1.2 Nokkur 213
8.7.1.3 Ýmis 214
8.7.1.4 Sumur 216
8.7.2 Einn, (sér)hver, maður, allur 217
8.7.2.1 Einn 217
8.7.2.2 Hver (sérhver) 218
8.7.2.3 Maður 219
8.7.2.4 Allur 220
8.7.3 Dual pronouns 222
8.7.3.1 Annar, hvor tveggja and báðir 223
8.7.3.2 Combined dual and plural pronouns:
annar hvor/hver, sinn hvor/hver 227
8.7.3.3 Summary 230
8.7.4 Negative pronouns 230
8.7.4.1 Enginn 230
8.7.4.2 Neinn, nokkur 232
8.7.4.3 Hvorugur 233
8.8 Reciprocal pronouns 235
8.9 Sem and er 237
8.10 Other functions of það 239

Chapter 9 Adjectives 243

9.1 Form and function 243

9.2 The strong declension 243
9.2.1 Summary of the main strong adjective
declension 251
9.2.2 Usage 252
9.2.3 Strong adjectives in object complements and
verbal constructions 254
9.3 The weak declension 255
9.3.1 Form 255
9.3.2 Usage 257
x 9.3.3 Exceptions 259
 9.3.4 Adjectives in compound place names 261 
Contents
9.4 Adjectives derived from verbs 262
9.4.1 Adjectives ending in -andi 262
9.4.2 Adjectives derived from past participles 263
9.4.3 Adjective or passive 268
9.5 Indeclinable adjectives 270
9.6 Order of adjectives 271
9.7 Adjectives used substantively 271
9.8 Comparatives 272
9.8.1 Function and form 272
9.8.2 The -r- group 274
9.8.3 Irregular comparatives and indeclinables 276
9.8.4 Dative of comparison and other notes on usage 276
9.9 Superlatives 278
9.9.1 Declension of superlatives 280
9.9.2 Irregular superlatives and indeclinables 281
9.9.3 Genitive with superlative and other notes on
usage 282
9.9.4 Adjectives that only occur in the comparative
and superlative 282
9.10 Common prefixes with adjectives 283
9.11 Adjectives in combination with an oblique case 284
9.11.1 Adjectives with oblique subjects and/or
prepositions 284
9.11.2 Adjectives in combination with prepositions 286
9.11.3 Adjectives with oblique objects 286
9.12 Restrictions on adjectives 289
9.12.1 Tough movement 289
9.12.2 Other semantic restrictions 289
9.13 Adjectives of foreign origin 290

Chapter 10 Numerals 293

10.1 Cardinal and ordinal numbers 293

10.2 Cardinal numbers: form 295
10.2.1 Gender 295
10.2.2 Case 297
10.3 Cardinal numbers: usage 298
10.3.1 Einn: numeral, indefinite pronoun and adjective 299
10.3.2 Numerical partitive 301
10.4 Numerical prefixes 302
10.5 Distributive numerals: einir, tvennir, þrennir, fernir 303
10.5.1 Form 303
10.5.2 Usage 304 xi
Contents 10.6 Ordinal numbers: form 305
10.6.1 Gender and case 306
10.6.2 Annar 307
10.7 Ordinal numbers: usage 308
10.7.1 Unspecified larger numbers 308
10.7.2 Halves, fractions and repetitions using ordinal
numbers 309
10.8 Other numerical words 310
10.8.1 Adjectives 310
10.8.2 Adverbs 311
10.8.3 Nouns 311
10.9 Dates, decades and years 314
10.9.1 Dates 314
10.9.2 Decades 314
10.9.3 Years 315
10.10 Age 316
10.10.1 Age by genitive case constituent 316
10.10.2 Other expressions relating to age 317
10.11 Telling the time 318
10.11.1 Clock time 318
10.11.2 Regular times 320
10.12 Weights and measures 321
10.13 Temperature 322
10.14 Money 322
10.15 Phone numbers, house numbers, ID numbers 323
10.16 Summary: counting 324

Chapter 11 Adverbs 325

11.1 Form 326

11.1.1 Simple adverbs 326
11.1.2 Derivation of adverbs from other word classes 326
11.1.3 Usage 328
11.2 Adverbial use of the cases 330
11.2.1 “Frozen” case forms used as adverbs 330
11.2.2 Use of the cases with adverbs 332
11.2.2.1 Adverbial dative 332
11.2.2.2 Adverbial genitive 334
11.2.2.3 Adverbial accusative 335
11.3 Adverbs of place, position and direction 336
11.3.1 Form 336
11.3.1.1 Place: rest and motion 336
11.3.1.2 Direction: north, east, south, west 339
xii
 11.3.1.3 Position: megin 341 
Contents
11.3.2 Usage 342
11.3.2.1 In or out, up or down? 344
11.3.2.2 When does motion mean motion? 345
11.4 Comparison of adverbs 346
11.5 A few tricky adverbs 350

Chapter 12 Prepositions 353

12.1  Form and function 353

12.2  Prepositions: overview 355
12.3  Accusative case prepositions 356
12.3.1 Accusative prepositions with adverbs of place 356
12.4  Dative case prepositions 359
12.5  Genitive case prepositions 364
12.6  Adverbs used as prepositions with invariant case
governance 366
12.6.1 Accusative case 366
12.6.2 Genitive case 367
12.7  Dual-case prepositions 368
12.7.1 Accusative or dative: í, á, undir, yfir 368
12.7.2 Accusative or dative: eftir, fyrir, með, við 370
12.8  Usage 375
12.8.1 Prepositions of place: að, til, á or í 376
12.8.2 Pairs: correspondence and contrast 381
12.8.3 Different complements 382
12.8.4 Prepositions without a complement 384
12.9 Prepositions of time 384
12.9.1 Use of case with prepositions of time 386
12.9.2 Combinations with adverbs 387
  12.10  Phrasal verbs 388
12.10.1 Prepositional verbs 389
12.10.2 Particle verbs 390

Chapter 13 Conjunctions, interjections and exclamations 393

13.1 Conjunctions: form and function 393

13.2 Coordinating conjunctions 394
13.2.1 Single coordinating conjunctions 394
13.2.2 Dual coordinating conjunctions 397
13.3 Subordinating conjunctions 398
13.3.1 Complement clauses 400
13.3.2 Adverbial clauses 401 xiii
13.3.3 Relative clauses 407
Contents 13.4 Conjunctions: summary of usage 407
13.4.1 Conjunctions followed by a subjunctive 407
13.4.2 Conjunctions followed by inverted word order 409
13.4.3 Conjunctions and commas 409
13.5 Interjections and exclamations 410
13.5.1 Single-syllable exclamations 410
13.5.2 Hesitation marks and conversation fillers 411
13.5.3 Other exclamations and fillers 413
13.5.4 Profanity 415

Part III Syntax 417

Chapter 14 Word order 419

14.1 Introduction 419

14.2  Sentence elements 419
14.2.1 Types of clause 420
14.2.2 Phrases 421
14.2.3 Elements of a clause 423
14.2.3.1 Subject 423
14.2.3.2 Verbs 424
14.2.3.3 Object 425
14.2.3.4 Adverbials 426
14.3  Neutral word order 427
14.3.1 Default word order in declarative clauses 427
14.3.2 Word order of verb complements 428
14.3.3 Adverbials 429
14.4  Inverted word order 431
14.4.1 Questions 431
14.4.2 Imperative clauses 433
14.4.3 Fronting sentence elements other than the
subject 434
14.4.4 Other changes to default word order 439
14.5  Phrasal verbs 440
14.6  Filling gaps: það 444
14.7  Infinitives as complements 446
14.8 Noun ellipsis 448

Chapter 15 Use of the cases 449

15.1  Cases in Icelandic 449

15.2 Nominative 450
xiv 15.3 Accusative 450
15.3.1 Verbal object 450
 15.3.2 Object complements 452 
Contents
15.3.3 Prepositions and phrasal verbs 452
15.4 Dative 452
15.4.1 Verbal object 452
15.4.2 Prepositional object 455
15.5 Genitive 456
15.5.1 Verbal and prepositional object 456
15.5.2 Genitive as possessive 458
15.5.3 Other uses of the genitive 458
15.6 More on case governance 460
15.6.1 Different case governance 460
15.6.2 Two objects 460
15.7 Use of the cases with adjectives and adverbs 461
15.8 No case assigners: oblique case constituents 461
15.8.1 Accusative 461
15.8.2 Dative 462
15.8.3 Genitive 462

Chapter 16 Possession 465

16.1 Own, have or carry? 465

16.2 Possessive constructions 466
16.2.1 Basic non-verbal possessive constructions 466
16.2.2 Definite or indefinite 467
16.2.3 Inalienable possession 469
16.2.4 Word order 469

Chapter 17 Reflexivity 471

17.1 Reflexivity in simple sentences 471

17.2 Reflexivity with an object referent 472
17.3 Reflexivity across clause borders 473
17.3.1 Reflexivity in indirect speech 474
17.3.2 More on reflexivity in infinitive clauses 476
17.4 Long-distance reflexivisation 477

Some basic grammatical terms 481

Bibliography 484
Index 488

xv
 Preface

There has been a veritable upsurge of interest in learning Icelandic in

the last few decades, followed by dedicated efforts to provide a vari-
ety of course material to accommodate this interest. A contemporary
guide to the essentials of Icelandic grammar for non-native speakers in
English has long been wanting, however. It is my sincere hope that this
book will be of help to all those seeking a description of the structure of
this remarkable, beautiful and expressive language. It has been my aim
throughout to make this book accessible to all learners of Icelandic:
beginners, improvers, students, teachers, travellers, business people and
everyone interested in language. At the same time, I have sought to give
special attention to those areas of the language that tend to raise ques-
tions or pose problems for learners, as well as include topics that had
so far not yet found their way into available texts. The book starts with
a brief introduction to the phonology and orthography of Icelandic,
followed by a discussion of individual parts of speech, morphology and
structure. It should be kept in mind, however, that this book provides
an essential and not a comprehensive grammar. Choices have therefore
had to be made as to what to include for discussion, to what extent and
to what depth, and a selection process like this will always be conten-
tious to some extent. Nevertheless, I do hope that this book will serve
the needs of many learners, while at the same time acting as an invita-
tion to others to use this book as a foundation for continued efforts to
fill in the gaps and bring the breadth and depth of Icelandic grammar
closer to the varied needs of interested learners around the world.
As a description of Icelandic grammar, the book is designed as a ref-
erence book organised by topic or grammatical category. As a result,
there are overlaps between chapters: one topic may be discussed in
more than one chapter, with each chapter discussing a particular aspect.
xvi Such overlaps also reflect the fuzzy boundaries that often exist between
categories. To help the reader make sense of this and increase user- 
Preface
friendliness, many cross-references are provided throughout the book.
It may surprise readers familiar with the complex nature of Icelandic
morphology that there are no appendices in this book. With the free
and easy accessibility of resources now providing this kind of informa-
tion online, it has been a conscious choice to devote the space available
in this book instead to a discussion of aspects of Icelandic grammar
that have so far not been so easily accessible to the learner. A guide to
resources and further reading is also included in the bibliography at the
end of the book. Many examples are provided in the different chapters,
drawn from everyday life and sometimes colloquial, giving learners
both an insight into Icelandic life and culture as well as a basic struc-
ture which they can use to substitute vocabulary to their own needs
and context.
Reykjavík, March 2021
Daisy Neijmann

xvii
 Acknowledgements

The writing of this book has been a co-operative effort in many ways.
It could not have been done without the assistance and support of
highly valued colleagues who gave so very generously of their time and
expertise: I stand on the shoulders of giants. First, I owe a debt of
gratitude to my colleague Max Naylor, Teaching Fellow in Icelandic
at the University of Edinburgh and private tutor, who read painstak-
ingly through every chapter as it came into being and provided many
helpful comments. Profound thanks also go to Tom Lundskær-Nielsen,
formerly Senior Lecturer in Danish at UCL and co-author of the Danish
grammars in this series, who shared his linguistic expertise as well as
his eagle eye as a proofreader, and who was also a great support during
those times when the going got rough. Höskuldur Þráinsson, Professor
Emeritus of Icelandic Linguistics at the University of Iceland, was gen-
erous enough to read through a large part of the manuscript despite
the many other demands made on his time and expertise, and provided
invaluable comments and corrections: his sharp critical eye saved me
from errors, while his characteristic humour and liberal encouragement
kept me going, for which I will always be grateful to him. Any remain-
ing errors are of course my own.
The teaching and learning of Icelandic as a second and foreign language
is a discipline that attracts and fosters not only great professional dedi-
cation and expertise, but also great generosity of spirit. Being able to
write this book in such a giving atmosphere has been of tremendous
value, and I would like to thank all the wonderful people I work with
for their kindness, for fielding my many questions and sharing their
knowledge, and for their patience while my mind was preoccupied with
this book. I would particularly like to thank my colleague María Anna
Garðarsdóttir at the University of Iceland for her invaluable assistance
xviii with Chapter 14, as well as erstwhile colleague Jón Gíslason for his
helpful comments on the chapters dealing with phonology, orthography 
Acknowl­
and word formation. I am grateful to Ari Páll Kristinsson for permis- edgements
sion to use the bungee jumping and leggings examples from his book
Málheimar in the section on foreign nouns (7.7), and to Höskuldur
Þráinsson (once again) for his permission to use a number of exam-
ples from his invaluable book Setningar. Finally, I want to express my
thanks to the University of Iceland School of Humanities for granting
me a six-month leave to work on this project, and to the Humanities
Institute for awarding me a grant to help with proof-reading.
This book has been a long time in the making, much longer than
intended, due in large part to the consequences of a serious traffic acci-
dent. I would like to thank the staff at Routledge for the understanding
and patience they have shown me. There were times I was not sure at
all if I could continue writing the book and bring it to its conclusion. A
personal and heart-felt thank you, therefore, to those friends and fam-
ily who never lost faith in my ability to do so, even when I did: your
unfailing support has been instrumental in making this book possible.

xix
 Abbreviations and
symbols used in the text

Abbreviations:
acc. accusative
adv. adverb
adj. adjective
art. article
aux. auxiliary
BrE British English
(-)C consonant
comp. comparative
compl. complement
dat. dative
def. definite
dem. demonstrative
dir​.ob​j. (DO) direct object
f. feminine
Fr. French
gen. genitive
Ger. German
imp. impersonal
ind. indicative
indef. indefinite
indir​.ob​j. (IO) indirect object
inf. infinitive
int. interrogative
intr. intransitive
m. masculine
n. noun
neg. negative
xx nom. nominative
nt. neuter
O object 
Abbreviations
p. person
part. participle
pass. passive
pl. plural
pos. positive
poss. possessive
pp. past participle
prep. preposition
pres. present
pron. pronoun
refl. reflexive
sg. singular
s-o someone
sth. something
subj. subjunctive
sup. superlative
(-)V vowel
vb. verb

Symbols:

(-)0 no ending
*(-) not possible, ungrammatical
(-)* see below
[-] dropped, empty
? uncertain if possible; possible but uncommon or
awkward
> become(s), change(s) into, become(s) part of
→ refers to
← derives from

xxi
 Part I

The Icelandic language

Sounds, letters and words

1
 Chapter 1

The Icelandic alphabet

The Icelandic alphabet contains 32 letters. It is listed below in bold,

lower-case and capitals, followed by the name for each letter as you
would use it when spelling out a word, with a basic guide to its pronun-
ciation with reference to English. Icelandic pronunciation in general
will be discussed in more detail in the next chapter.
aA a a (lala)
áÁ á ou (house)
bB bé b-ye (b followed by ye as in yet)
dD dé d-ye (d followed by ye as in yet)
ðÐ eð eth (whether)
eE e e (bed)
éÉ é ye (yet)
f F eff ef (left)
gG ge ge (get)
hH há how
i I i i (sit)
í Í í ee (seen)
j J joð yoth
kK ká cow
lL ell etl (kettle, BrE)
mM emm em (member)
nN enn en (engage)
oO o o (horse)
óÓ ó ow (slow, BrE)
pP pé p-ye (Pierre)
rR err err (error, with Scottish rolling r)
sS ess ess (essential)
tT té t-ye (tier)
uU u approx. Fr. eux (deux) 3

DOI: 10.4324/9781315731056-2
 úÚ ú oo (look)
1
vV vaff vaf (vaccine, far)
The Icelandic
xX ex ex
alphabet
yY ufsilon y ufsilon i
ýÝ ufsilon ý ufsilon ee
þÞ þorn thodn (thought, sudd[e]n)
æÆ æ i (pie, sigh)
öÖ ö u (urgent)
The letter ð is never used initially.
The following are non-Icelandic letters which occur in foreign words:
cC sé
qQ kú
wW tvöfallt vaff
zZ seta

The spelling of loanwords is adapted to the Icelandic alphabet and

pronunciation.

4
 Chapter 2

Pronunciation

2.1  Vowel sounds

Icelandic vowel sounds consist of monophthongs (single sounds) and

diphthongs (where one sound “glides” towards another). Vowels writ-
ten with a diacritical mark over the letter (á, é, í, ó, ú, ý) represent
distinct sounds in Icelandic and not merely variations on a sound: they
have a different quality. The pronunciation of vowels may be short
or long (long is indicated phonetically by the symbol [:] following the
sound in question), and may vary, depending on what sounds precede
and/or follow them.

2.2  Vowels: monophthongs

A monophthong is a single sound which remains stable in articulation

from beginning to end (English a in father), unlike a diphthong (“two
sounds”) which starts from one sound and then glides towards another
(English i in like).
There are eight monophthongs in Icelandic, represented by the fol-
lowing letters:

a, e, i / y, í / ý, o, u, ú, ö

Some of these will be diphthongised under the influence of following

sounds. Below are listed all monophthongs and the various sounds
they represent under different circumstances. Variations on the basic
sound are followed by a reference to the section in this chapter where
the variation is explained in more detail. Pronunciation is indicated
5

DOI: 10.4324/9781315731056-3
 2 by the corresponding IPA (International Phonetic Alphabet) symbol1,
Pronunci­ followed by an English approximation and Icelandic example(s). Note
ation that all sounds listed below may be long or short in pronunciation –
this aspect is discussed in 2.16.

a [a] a in English father kaffi, taska, hafa,

far
[au] before -ng, -nk: ow in English langa, banki (2.15)
how
[ai] before -gi: i in English like sunnudaginn (2.13)
e [ε] e in English bed, said drekka, menn, (2.15)
lesa, Esja
[εi] before -ng, -nk, -gi: ai in English drengur, segir (2.13)
wait
é [jε] ye in English yet fékk, ég
[çε] as above with preceding h: [h]ye hérna, héðan (2.8)
i [ɪ] i in English win inn, liggja
[i] before -ng, -nk, -gi: ee in English fingur, minnka, (2.13)
see stigi
í [i] ee in English see líst, fífl
o [ɔ] o in English horse loft, morgunn
[ɔi] before -gi: oy in English boy logi, floginn (2.13)
u [ʏ] eu in Fr. deux (say i as in English hundur, upp
win but with rounded lips)
[ʏɪ] before -gi: as [ʏ] above, but flugið, tugir (2.13)
followed by -yi
[u] before -ng, -nk: u in English full ungur, bunki (2.13)
ú [u] u in English full þú, fúll
y [ɪ] i in English win synda, yfir
[i] before -ng, -nk, -gi: ee in English syngja, dynkur, (2.13)
see lygi
ý [i] ee in English see ýta, býsna

6
1 The IPA chart of symbols and pronunciation can be found online at
www​.ipachart​.com.
ö [œ] u in English urgent tölva, hönd 2.Vowels:
3Vowelsdi: phthongs
[œi] before -ng, -nk, -gi: (say ö as löng, blönk, lögin (2.13) diphthongs
[œ] above and then gradually lift
your tongue)

Note that the pronunciation of Icelandic i and y, and í and ý is exactly

the same. É (é) is counted among the vowels, but is in fact a combina-
tion of the consonant j and the vowel e [jε].
The articulation of monophthongs is schematized as follows:

Front Back
Unrounded Rounded Unrounded Rounded
Closed í, ý [i] ú [u]
Half closed i, y [ɪ] u [ʏ]
Half open e [ε] ö [œ] o [ɔ]
Open a [a]

2.3  Vowels: diphthongs

Icelandic diphthongs may be divided into those represented by a single

letter:

á, ó, æ

and those denoted by letter combinations:

ei / ey, au

In addition, there are [ɔi] and [ʏi], which occur when the monoph-
thongs o and u are diphthongised (see above and 2.13 below) but do
not exist as independent diphthongs.
Below is a list of the diphthongs and their pronunciation:

au [œi] (say ö as above and then gradually auga, haust

lift your tongue, or say ei [εi] as
below, but with rounded lips)
á [au] ow in English how ást, blár

7
 ei/ey [εi] ai in English wait einn, þeir,
2
gleyma
Pronunci­
ation ó [ou] o gliding towards oo, approx as in rós, fólk
BrEngl. slow, but more open
æ [ai] i in English like læst, bær
- [ɔi] oy in English boy logi, floginn (2.13)
- [ʏi] eu in Fr. deux gliding towards ee flugið, tugir (2.13)

The articulation of diphthongs is schematized as follows, with an arrow

indicating the direction of the “glide” from one sound to the next:

Front Back

Unrounded Rounded Unrounded Rounded

Closed í, ý [i] ú [u]

Half closed u [ʏ] ó [o]

Half open ei, ey [ε] au [œ] o [ɔ]

Open æ [a], á [a]

2.4  Consonants

There are 18 letters in the Icelandic alphabet which represent consonants:

b, d, ð, f, g, h, j, k, l, m, n, p, r, s, t, v, x, þ

The number of consonant sounds in Icelandic, however, is 30, for, as

is the case with vowels, the pronunciation of many consonants varies
depending on what sounds precede or follow them. And, like vowels,
most consonants can be short or long in pronunciation (see 2.16).

2.5  Consonant types and qualities

Consonants are voiced if the vocal cords vibrate during pronuncia-

tion, creating a subtle buzzing tone (pronounce English v while hold-
ing a finger against your vocal cords: you can feel a slight vibration).
Consonants are voiceless if the vocal cords are left open and the air flows
8
through freely, producing a much “breathier” sound (as in English f).
The voiceless quality of a consonant is indicated phonetically by [o] or 25.Consonant
Consonantypeasndquatilei s
[o] if it is not represented by a separate letter or symbol. types and
While the air flows freely through the mouth in the articulation of qualities
vowels, the quality of a consonant is determined by the kind of constric-
tion the airflow meets during pronunciation (stops, fricatives, nasals,
laterals, trills), as well as where in the mouth the constriction occurs.

• Stops are consonants produced by a full blocking somewhere in

the vocal tract. Icelandic distinguishes aspirated and unaspirated
variations (or pairs) of stops. Aspiration means there is an audible
puff of breath in pronunciation after the release, indicated by [h].

Place of articulation (stop): Aspirated Unaspirated

Lip sounds (bilabial) p [ph] b, p [p]
Tongue tip (alveolar) t [t ]
h
d, t [t]
Tongue body (palatal) gj, kj [c ]
h
gj, kj [c]
Back of the tongue (velar) g, k [kh] g, k [k]

Many consonant sounds make up pairs of voiced and unvoiced

variations. In English, the voiceless stops p – t – k each have a
voiced counterpart: b – d – g. Icelandic also has such voiced/voice-
less variations except in the case of its stops, which are distin-
guished instead by aspiration: ph – th – kh or non-aspiration: p – t
– k. Stops in Icelandic are thus never voiced.

• Fricatives are produced by narrowing the oral passage at some

point, which creates friction as the air flows through (rather than
stopping it for a moment altogether, as happens with stops). Below
is a schematization of Icelandic fricatives, divided into voiced and
voiceless pairs where applicable.

Place of articulation (friction): Voiced Voiceless

Teeth and lips (labiodental) [v] [f]
Teeth (dental) [ð] [θ]
Tongue tip (alveolar) [s]
Tongue body (palatal) [j] [ç]
Back of the tongue (velar) [ɣ] [x]
Throat (glottal) [h] 9
 2 Note that the Icelandic [s] is retracted, which means it is “hissier”
than for instance its English counterpart, and more like the [s] in
Pronunci­
e.g., Finnish, Dutch, Greek and northern Iberian languages, some-
ation
where between [s] and [ʃ]. Also note that the voiced counterpart of
[s], [z], does not exist in Icelandic pronunciation.

• Nasals are produced by forcing the air through the nose rather than
the mouth.

Place of articulation: Voiced Voiceless

Lips (bilabials) [m] [m̥]
Tongue tip (alveolar) [n] [n̥]
Tongue body (palatal) [ɲ] [ɲ̥]
Back of the tongue (velar) [ŋ] [ŋ̊]

• Laterals ([l] – [l̥ ]) are produced by stopping the air from going
through the middle of the mouth and forcing it to go along the
sides of the tongue instead. The Icelandic l is alveolar, that is to
say, in order to block the air and force it to the side, the tip of the
tongue goes up against the alveolar ridge (behind the upper front
teeth), and the air is forced along one side of the tongue. Unlike in
English, a voiceless variation [l̥ ] occurs in Icelandic.
• The trill ([r] – [r̥ ]) is characterized by the tip of the tongue trilling
against the alveolar ridge. Icelandic has a front rolling r much like
a Scottish one. It also has a voiceless variation [r̥ ].

2.6  Pronunciation of the consonants

Below is a list of the consonant letters in Icelandic in alphabetical order,

followed by the various sounds they represent under different circum-
stances. As before, there are references to the relevant pronunciation
rules explained later in this chapter.

b [p] voiceless, like English p in tap bera, kvabba,

lamb
d [t] voiceless, like English dagur, landi,
unaspirated t öld
ð [ð] th in English weather maður
[θ] th in English thought iðka (2.8)
10
f [f] f in English father fá, oft 26.Pronunci­
Pronuncaito
i nothfeconsonants
[v] between vowels and voiced hafa, leyfði, efri (2.9) ation of the
consonants: consonants
v in English voice
[p] -fl-, -fn- after vowel: p in English Keflavík, efni (2.11)
tap
[m] before -nd: m in English jam nefnd (2.11)
[m̥] before -nt: voiceless m[h]
hefnt (2.11)
g [k] initially, between vowel and -l, gata, logn,
-n, after consonant and before bjarga, borg
-a, -u, -0 (= word-final) like
English unaspirated ck in wick
[c] before -j or front vowels e, i, í, gjöf, geta, Gísli, (2.12)
y, ý, æ, ei/ey: gæs
g in English geese

[ɣ] after vowel and before -a, -u, saga, vegur, (2.9)
-ð, -r, -0: sagði, ögra
like -ch in Scottish loch but
voiced and much
softer, going towards y in English
yet
[x] after vowel and before -t, -s: dragt, lagsi (2.10)
ch in Scottish loch*

[j:] between vowel and -i, -j: y in lagi, lygi, segja (2.12)
English yet
[-] not pronounced at all between skógur, fljúga (2.11)
-ó, -á, -ú and -a, -u
h [h] h in English home hár, heima
[k] before -v: qu in English quality, hvað, hvíld (2.14)
but without rounding the lips

[o] when preceding, it devoices -j hjá, hlé, hnífur, (2.8)

[ç], -l [ l ̥],-n [n̥], -r [r̥] hross

j [j] y in English yet já, Björk

11
 [ç] h in English hue hjá, hjól (2.8)
2
Pronunci­ k [kh] word-initial before back vowel: c kalla, króna
ation in English cow
[k] medially and finally: ck in English taka, bak
wick
[ch] word-initial before front vowels kisa, keyra, (2.12)
e, i, í, y, ý, æ, ei/ey and -j: k in kjósa
English keen

[c] medially before front vowels skemma, sækja (2.12)

and -j: k in English skin

[x] before -t and -s: ch in Scottish rakt, flaksa (2.10)

loch*
l [l] l in English leave læra, ljúfur
[ l ̥] after h-, before -p, -t, -k : hlýr, stúlka, allt (2.8)
voiceless -[h]l
[tl] double ll: tl in BrEngl. kettle allir, hilla (2.11)
[tl ]̥ final double ll: voiceless -t[h]l stóll, fjall
m [m] m in English mother móðir, koma
[m̥] before -p, -t, -k : voiceless -[h]m lampi, fimmti, (2.8)
rýmka
n [n] n in English name nál, venja
[n̥] after h-, before -t, -k, before final hné, vanta, banki
stop or -s: voiceless -[h]n vopn, vatn, (2.8)
lausn
[tn] double nn between vowel with fínna, grænna, (2.11)
diacritic or æ, ei/ey, au and seinna
vowel: tn in BritEnglish mitten
[tn̥] as above, but word-final: fínn, Spánn,
voiceless -t[h]n seinn
[ŋ] before -g plus back vowel: ng in ungur, hingað
English young

12
 [ŋ̊] before -k plus back vowel: banka, minnka 26.Pronunci­
Pronuncaito
i nothfeconsonants
voiceless -[h]ng
ation of the
[ɲ] before -g plus front vowels e, lengi, syngja (2.12) consonants
i, í, y, ý, æ, ei/ey or -j: ng in
English sing

[ ɲ̊] before -k and front vowel or -j: banki, skenkja (2.12)

voiceless -[h]ng
p [ph] p in English pen penni, par
[p] p in English tap opna, djúpur,
spari
[f] before -t: f in English far september, (2.10)
keppti
r [r] front-rolling r as in Scottish rós, brenna,
ready vera
[r̥] after h-, before -p, -t, -k, -s: hratt, harpa, (2.8)
voiceless -[h]r terta, þurrka,
vers
s [s] s in English sun sól, vísa, laus
t [t ]
h
t in English time taka, tjón
[t] t in English wet sitja, betra
v [v] approx. v in English voice, but vera, svara,
tending towards [ʋ] sökkva
x [xs] ch in Scottish loch followed by s lax, vaxa
in English sun*
þ [θ] th in English thought þunnur, íþrótt
[ð] in unstressed pronouns: th in ég sagði þér það (2.9)
English weather

* There is an increasing tendency among younger people to pronounce [x] as [k] in

these instances.

The letters c, q, w and z are not part of the official Icelandic spelling
system, but they do occur occasionally, c, q, w exclusively in imported
words, and z as a remnant of earlier official orthography which has
since been abolished:

13
 c is usually pronounced as English s: celsíus
2
Pronunci­ but sometimes also as English k: cameo
ation
q usually pronounced as English k, qu as [kv] quart
w v in English voice Winston
z s in English sun lízt, bezt

2.7  Preaspiration (h-insertion)

People who hear Icelandic spoken for the first time often comment on
the fact that Icelanders “breathe in the middle of words”. This feature
of Icelandic pronunciation is called preaspiration. Before the following
consonant clusters, an -h- is inserted in pronunciation:

[h] [h] [h]

pp pl pn
[h] [h] [h]
tt tl tn
[h] [h] [h]
kk kl kn

Examples:
u[h]ppi e[h]pli o[h]pna
hi[h]tta æ[h]tla va[h]tn
e[h]kki He[h]kla læ[h]knir
Note that, despite what the spelling may suggest, preaspiration means
that these consonants are never long in pronunciation (see also 2.16
below).
Exceptions: Most compound words, and before the suffixes -legur,
-laus and -leysi.

2.8  Devoicing of voiced consonants

Another feature that makes Icelandic sound “breathy” is the fact that
all consonants are devoiced (i.e., become voiceless) before -p, -t and -k,
while -r is also devoiced before -s. This is not reflected in the spelling,
so it needs to be remembered. This is important, as devoicing can mean
the difference between two separate words.
Examples of devoicing:
stelpa [stεl ̥p      a] – elta [εl ̥ta] – orka [or̥ka] – iðka [ɪθka] – mars
14 [mar̥s]
Examples of words distinguished only by devoicing: 29.Voicing
Vocinigovfocieelscsoof
nsonants
vanda (“do carefully”) – van̥ta (“lack”) voiceless
lambi (“lamb”, dat.) – lam̥pi (“lamp”) consonants
vergur (“total”) – ver̥kur (“pain”)
Exceptions: devoicing does not occur in most compounds (vel-kominn,
vin-kona, sam-tal).
At the end of a word, -f, -l, -r are devoiced even when following a
vowel, while -ð in inflectional endings and -g in commonly unstressed
words are barely audible at all when another word is following:
próf [prou:f] – vel [vε:l ̥] – yfir [ɪ:vɪr̥] – fóruð [fou:rʏ] – alveg [alvε]
Lastly, as shown in the consonant table above, h- causes any following
consonant to be devoiced: hj [ç], hé [çε], hl [l̥ ], hn [n̥ ], hr [r̥ ]. An excep-
tion is hv, which is pronounced [kv] (see 2.14).

2.9  Voicing of voiceless consonants

The following voiceless consonants are voiced under certain

cir­cum­stances:
f>v between vowels, and between a sofa, lifa
vowel and a voiced consonant: horfa, öfgar, lifði
Between á, ó, ú and a, i, u, an f is dropped in pronunciation altogether
in many common words: húfa, rófa.
Exceptions: compounds and some loanwords: Eyjafirði, grafík, sófi
þ > ð word-initial in unstressed
pronouns and some adverbs
(not at the start of a sentence):    er það, hann fer
þangað
g > [ɣ] between vowels and voiced
consonants: vonbrigði, stígur,
hægri
word-final and morpheme-final
after vowels: ég, lag, daglegur,
Vigdís
Note that s never becomes voiced (i.e., [z]) in Icelandic!
Remember also that the stops b, d and g, which are voiced in
English, are never voiced in Icelandic. What distinguishes them from
p, t and k is the fact that they are unaspirated, and not that they are
voiced.
15
 2.10  Fricativisation
2
Pronunci­
ation The stops g, k and p are pronounced as fricatives (the air is not stopped
altogether but allowed through with friction) before -t:
-gt, -ggt > [xt] byggt, frægt, fallegt
-kt, -kkt > [xt] rakt, sökkt, líkt
-pt, -ppt > [ft] september, keypti, keppti

2.11  Clustered consonants

The following consonant combinations produce changes in

pronunciation:

• T-insertion
A [t] is inserted in pronunciation in the following instances:
• -ll- > [tl] fullur, fjall, allir, Páll, bolli
Exceptions: (1) pet names and loanwords: Palli (pet name
 of Páll), bolla
(2) before -d, -s or -t: felldi, fjalls, fullt
(3) on morpheme boundaries within words:
aðal[-]lega, til[-]lit
• -nn > [tn]: double nn after vowel with diacritic or ei/ey, au, æ:
fínn, Spánn, einn
Exceptions: -nn- as part of the definite article: Spánni, eynni
• -sl- > [stl]: íslenska, slíta, rusl
-sn- > [stn]: snerta, býsna
• -rl- > [rtl]: Erla, þyrla
-rn- > [rtn]: þarna, spurning
Exceptions: (1) the -r- in these clusters may be dropped, so
that
[rtl] > [tl] and [rtn] > [tn]
This happens particularly in very common
words, and where -rn- is part of the definite
article, as in the following instances:
 arl [khatl], varla [vatla], þarna
k
[θatna]
16 bollarnir [pɔtlatnɪr], töskurnar
[thœskʏtnar]
 (2) the f in -rfl- and -rfn is dropped, leaving
 2Clustered
.11Clusteredconsonants
-rl- and -rn-, pronounced [rtl] and [rtn] as per consonants
the rule listed above:
-rfl- > -rl = [rtl] and -rfn- > -rn
= [rtn]
Examples: hvarfla [khvartla], þarfn­
ast [θartnast]
Note that [t] insertion does not occur in compound nouns.
• Fl and fn are pronounced [pl] [pn] – Gl and gn are pronounced
[kl] [kn]
• -fl > [pl]: trufla, afl, Keflavík
-fn > [pn]: ofn, efni, sofna
• -gl > [kl]: hagl, reglulega
-gn > [kn]: rigna, gegnum
Exceptions: (1) word-initial, in compounds, and before
the suffixes -legur and -lega:
fljúga, fnykur, auglýsing, daglega
(2) -fnd > -md; -fnt > -m̥ t-: nefnd, nefnt
(3) -fld > -ld; -flt > -l̥ t: e(f)ldi, e(f)lt
• Consonants dropped from pronunciation:
• g is dropped between á, ó, ú and a, u
(often f as well, see 2.9 above) skó(g)ur, ljú(g)a,
hú(f)a
• g is dropped in the following cluster:
vowel-gj-vowel: se(g)ja, tey(g)ja
• in larger consonant clusters, the
middle sound is dropped: sys(t)kini, mar(g)t
• in some clusters, the first consonant
is dropped instead: si(g)ldi, fy(r)st,
ve(r)ndun
• final -ð and -g are often dropped
in daily speech in unstressed words: a(ð), me(ð), o(g),
mi(g)
• initial h- is usually dropped in unstressed pronouns (hann,
honum, hans, hún, hana, henni, hennar), unless they begin a
sentence:
 farðu með (h)enni (“go with her”), talaðu við (h)ann
(“talk to him”)
• unstressed conjunctions, prepositions and auxiliary verbs also
often have loss of consonants, as for instance in the following: 17
s(v)o (“so”), þ(v)í (“’cause”), a(f)tur (“back”)
 2 oní (from ofan í, “into”), niðr’í (from niðri í, “below,
down [in]”)
Pronunci­
ation
2.12  Palatalisation

When producing the stops g and k in Icelandic, the air stream is stopped
in the back part of the roof of the mouth (“velar”). However, when a
front vowel follows (e, i, í, y, ý, æ, ei/ey; see also vowel schematic in
2.1 and 2.2), the articulation of g and k is moved (“pulled”) slightly
forward in the mouth, from the soft to the hard palate, to make the
transition from back stop to front vowel easier: g [k] and k [kh] become
palatalised ([c], [ch]). In practice, this means that g and k now sound
as if they were followed by a [j], compare gata and g[j]eta, banka and
bank[j]i. The same happens when g and k are followed by -j, irrespective
of the vowel following j: gjöf, kjafta. This process is known as assimila-
tion (see also 2.15).
The velar fricative [ɣ], also written g, is palatalised before a front
vowel and becomes [j]: feginn, hægindastóll. The consonant cluster -gi-
in turn causes a change in the preceding vowel sound (see 2.13).
Exceptions: compounds, foreign names and nouns ending in -endur:
verkefni, rekendur

2.13  Vowels before -ng, -nk and -gi

The pronunciation of the following vowels changes before the conso-

nant clusters -ng, -nk and -gi, as a result of which the spelling becomes
misleading:

(1) before -ng (2) before -gi:

and -nk:
a : [a] > [au] banki [pauɲ̊cɪ] a : [a] > [ai] lagið [laij:ɪð]
e : [ε] > [εi] lengi [lεiɲcɪ] e : [ε] > [εi] vegir [vεij:ɪr]
i,y : [ɪ] > [i] fingur [fiŋkʏr], i,y : [ɪ] > [i] stigi [sti:jɪ]
linkur [liŋ̊kʏr] o : [ɔ] > [ɔi] logið [lɔij:ɪð]
u : [ʏ] > [u] ungur [uŋkʏr] u : [ʏ] > [ʏi] hugi [hʏij:ɪ]
ö : [œ] > [œi] blönk [plœyŋ̊k] ö : [œ] > [œi] lögin [lœy:jɪn]

18
2.14  Other points concerning pronunciation 21.Elision,
5Esilo
i nas,sm
i alito
i nc,ontracto
in
assimilation,
• hv-, generally pronounced [kv], is also sometimes pronounced [xv]. contraction
This speech variant is found particularly in southern Iceland.
• Guð (“God”) is always pronounced with a [v] inserted after g:
[gvʏ:ð]. This is also the case for all words and names derived from
this word, for instance in g[v]uðdómlegur (“divine”), and in per-
sonal names such as G[v]uðrún or G[v]uðmundur.
• the first -u- in the definite dative plural ending -unum is usually
pronounced [ɔ]: pennunum > pennonum [phεn:ɔnʏm] (“pens”).
• the pronunciation of compound words does not always comply
with the general rules of pronunciation, because the boundaries
between the various parts that make up the word interfere with
these rules. Thus, for instance, in the word vinkona (“female
friend”), which is a compound comprised of the words vin(-ur)
(“friend”) and kona (“woman”), the -n- is pronounced [ŋ] – and
not [ŋ̊] under the influence of the following -k as the rules dictate,
because the devoicing influence of [k] is interrupted by the bound-
ary between the two parts that make up the compound: vin-kona.
Obviously, it will take some knowledge of Icelandic vocabulary to
start recognising these morpheme boundaries within words.

2.15  Elision, assimilation, contraction

In 2.11 above it was pointed out that consonants in consonant clus-

ters are often dropped in daily speech to facilitate pronunciation. This
happens on a larger scale as well. Unstressed vowels and consonants
are frequently omitted (elision) or assimilated to neighbouring sounds.
Below are some common examples:
• word-final, unstressed vowels are often dropped when the next
word begins with a vowel:
Mamm(a) og pabbi (“Mum and dad”)
Látt(u) okkur vita (“Let us know”)
Ert(u) ekki búinn (“Aren’t you finished [yet]”)
• the dropping of initial h- (see 2.11) may in turn lead to the drop-
ping of a preceding word-final vowel:
Sýnd(u) (h)enni (“Show her”) Sjáð(u) (h)ann
 (“Look at him”)

19
 2 • unstressed conjunctions and prepositions are subject to contraction
when the following word begins with a vowel:
Pronunci­
ation ofan í > oní (“into”), niðri í > niðr’í (“below, down [in]”)
yfir um > yfrum (“across, over”)
(But: ofan fyrir)
• when the unstressed second person singular pronoun þú follows
the verb (rather than preceding it), it is assimilated to the preceding
verb as -ðu (-du after nasals and -l; -tu after stops and -s):
talarðu (“talk”), segirðu (“say”), heyrðu (“hear”),
gleymdu (“forget”), láttu (“let”)
where this results in the doubling of -ð- (when the verb stem ends in
-ð), -ðð- becomes -dd-: greiða > greiddu (“comb”)
• word-final nasals tend to be partially assimilated to the following
consonants, also when a suffix has been added:
n > m before p, b, ng: Jón[m] Björnsson
n > ng before k, g: Jón[ŋ] Gunnar
m > n kom[n]du, um[n]fram

2.16  Stress and length

In Icelandic the main stress (ˈ) is always on the first syllable of a word:
ˈdagur (“day”), ˈtöffararnir (“the cool guys”), ˈbanani (“banana”).
To avoid unclarity in the pronunciation of longer words, secondary
(half) stress (ˌ) may also occur on the third syllable of words that are
not compounds, as in, for instance, ˈappelˌsína (“orange”). Compound
words of which the first element consists of more than one syllable get
a secondary stress on the first syllable of the second element instead:
ˈháskólaˌkennari (“university lecturer”), ˈlækningaˌstofa (“surgery”).
Unstressed syllables are always short in Icelandic. In stressed syl-
lables, on the other hand, sounds may be short or long, depending on
what sounds precede or follow them.
• Vowels (monophthongs and diphthongs) in stressed syllables are
long:
• when they are word-final or followed by only one consonant:
sjá, blóm
• before -kj -pj -sj -tj: kveikja, Esja, sitja
-kr -pr -sr -tr: sjúkrahús,
dýpri, metri
20 -kv -sv -tv: vökva, tvisvar
•
Vowels (monophthongs and diphthongs) in stressed syllables are 21.Pronunci­
8Pronuncaito
i nandni felcto
in
short: ation and
• when followed by two or more consonants other than the ones inflection
listed above:
 ferð, minni, fólk,
velja, reynsla
• the diphthongs [ɔi] and [ʏi] are always short: bogi, hugi
Note that diphthongs may also be short as well as long, as for instance
in reynsla above.
• Consonants in stressed syllables are usually short. They are only
long when they are double-written:
-bb(-): pabbi, labba
-dd(-): redda, hræddur
-ff(-): kaffi, skúffa
-gg(-): skegg, bygging
-mm(-): mamma, fimm
-rr(-): pirra, Snorri
-ss(-): kyssa, bless

Note that
• -ll- and -nn- are long only when they are not pronounced [tl] or
[tn] (see 2.11): rúlla, bolla, finna, spánni, tönn
• -pp(-), -tt(-), -kk(-) are never long because they are subject to
preaspiration (see 2.7).

2.17  Ingressive sounds

Another feature of Icelandic pronunciation that many learners remark

on is that sometimes words, and even larger parts of sentences, are pro-
nounced while inhaling (a phenomenon known as pulmonic ingressive
pronunciation). It is particularly common in the pronunciation of the
word já (“yes”), but also occurs in the speech of older people, espe-
cially women. Ingressive speech is, however, not a required feature of
Icelandic pronunciation, and it is therefore entirely up to the learner to
choose to adopt it or not.

2.18  Pronunciation and inflection

The fact that Icelandic is an inflected language also has consequences 21

for the pronunciation of words. The initial sound of an inflectional
 2 ending may for instance change the pronunciation of the final sound of
the stem of a word, and it may also affect the stem vowel (on stems and
Pronunci­
endings, see 4.1). It is thus important to be aware that one particular
ation
word may be pronounced in different ways, depending on its inflec-
tional form. As the stem of a word can have many different inflectional
endings which may have different initial sounds, the pronunciation may
vary from form to form. For example, the nominative singular form of
a noun (also the dictionary form) may have a long stem vowel and no
preaspiration, while the plural ending may cause the stem vowel to
become short and preaspiration to occur. The changes caused by inflec-
tion simply follow the rules for pronunciation in Icelandic, which means
that the learner has to be alert when the form of the word changes and
apply them accordingly. It is not possible to provide an exhaustive list,
but here are some of the most common patterns:
• Preaspiration and shortening of preceding vowel:
jökull [jœ:k-] > jöklar [jœhk-] (“glacier”; n., nom. sg. and
nom. pl.)
opinn [ɔ:p-] > opnir [ɔhp-] (“open”; adj., m.sg. and m.pl.)
flatur [fla:-] > flatt [flah-] (“flat”; adj., m.sg. and nt​.s​g.)
• Devoicing and shortening of preceding vowel:
bréfi [brjε:v-] > bréfs [brjεf-] (“letter”; n., dat. sg. and gen. sg.)
meina [mεi:n-] > meinti [mεin̥-] (“mean”; vb., inf. and past sg.)
• Elision, sometimes with devoicing:
horfa [horva] > horfði [horðɪ] (“look”; vb., inf. and past sg.)
lýg [li:ɣ] > ljúgum [lju:ʏm] (“lie”; vb., pres. sg. and pres. pl.)
margur [markʏr] > margt
[mar̥t] (“many”; adj. m.sg. and nt. sg.)
fylla [fɪtla] > fyllti [fɪl ̥t   ɪ] (“fill”; vb., inf. and past sg.)
• T-insertion, often with shortening of preceding vowel and some-
times with devoicing:
feril [fε:r-] > ferlar [fεrt-] (“track, career”; n., acc. sg. and
nom. pl.)
farinn [fa:r-] > farnir [fart-] (“gone”; adj., m.sg. and m.pl.)
bíl [pi:l] > bíll [pitl ̥] (“car”; n., acc. sg. and nom. sg.)
• Palatalisation:
egg [εk:] > eggi [εc:-] (“egg”; n., nom. sg./pl. and dat. sg.)
kaus [kh-] > kjósa [ch-] (“elect”; vb., past sg. and inf.)
lag [la:ɣ] > lagið [laij:-] (“song”; n., indef. and def.)
22
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
Richard, Mr. Grant the clergyman, all the town oddities, Monsieur Le
Quoi, Major Hartmann, Doolittle, Kirby, and Benjamin are real and
humanly interesting. The dialogue is fresh, racy, and appropriate. There
is no effort at compression; winter evenings were long in 1824.
The book holds one by the scenes and characters rather than by
the ‘fable.’ The mystery of ‘Edwards,’ and the coming to life of old Major
Effingham, are well enough; but the strength of the story is in the
episodes, such as that where Hiram Doolittle, supported by Jotham and
Kirby, tries to serve the warrant on Natty Bumppo, in the trial of the old
hunter, or the capital scene where Natty is put into the stocks, and the
chivalrous major-domo, Benjamin, insists on sharing his punishment,
and cheering the heart-broken old man with comfortable and
picturesque words. Presently Doolittle came to enjoy the fruit of his
victory. Venturing too near, he found himself in the tenacious grasp of
the irate major-domo. Benjamin’s legs were stationary, but his fists
were free, and he proceeded to work away with ‘great industry’ on Mr.
Doolittle’s face, ‘using one hand to raise up his antagonist, while he
knocked him over with the other;’ he scorned to strike a fallen
adversary.
The Pioneers would merit a high place in American fiction were it
only on account of that original character, Natty Bumppo, or ‘Leather-
Stocking.’ He is natural, easy, attractive. In the other books (always
excepting The Prairie), there is more of invention. Putting it in another
way, the first Natty Bumppo is like a study from life, while the others
often leave the impression of being studies from the first study.
By changing the background, the costume, the accessories, and
making his hero younger or older, Cooper found him available for more
exciting dramas than that played in Templeton.
Leather-Stocking next appears as ‘Hawkeye,’ the scout, in The Last
of the Mohicans, a narrative based on the massacre of Fort William
Henry in 1757, and, all things considered, the most famous of Cooper’s
novels. It is an out-and-out Indian story, good for boys and not bad for
men, being vigorous, brilliant, and packed with adventure. The capture,
by a band of Montcalm’s marauding Iroquois, of the two daughters of
the old Scottish general, their rescue by Hawkeye, Chingachgook, and
Uncas, their recapture, the pursuit and the thrilling events in the Indian
villages, form the staple of a book which without exaggeration may be
called world-renowned.
If The Last of the Mohicans suffers from one fault more than
another, it is from a superabundance of hair-breadth escapes. The
novelist heaps difficulties on difficulties, all of which appear
insurmountable, and are presently surmounted with an ease that
makes the reader half angry with himself for having worried.
As might have been expected, in growing younger Natty has grown
theatrical; he appears too exactly at the critical moment to perform the
deed of cool bravery expected of him. It could hardly be otherwise; The
Last of the Mohicans is a romance, and in romances such things must
be. Chingachgook, that engaging savage, has for so many years met
the romantic ideal of the American Indian that it is unlikely he will ever
be disturbed in his place in the reader’s esteem. His rôle of white man’s
friend was played in The Prairie by Hard-Heart, the young Pawnee
chief.
The Prairie has an originality all its own. This strange and sombre
tale brings together an oddly assorted group of people, some of whom
—the squatter and his family in particular—are drawn with rude
strength. There are weak points in the plot. The carefully guarded tent
with its hidden occupant is a poor device for compelling attention. Dr.
Battius, endlessly talkative about genus and species, is a tiresome
personage. The justification of the story as a work of art is to be sought
in the descriptions of the ‘desert,’ in the impressions given of
immeasurable distance and illimitable space, the abode of mystery and
terror. The passages describing the stampede of a herd of buffalo, the
night surprise of the trapper and his friends by the Sioux, the escape of
Hard-Heart from the torture-stake, are all done with a masterly stroke.
Natty Bumppo figures in The Prairie as an old man of eighty-seven.
His eye has lost its keenness of vision and his hand its steadiness. But
the heart is undaunted (‘Lord, what a strange thing is fear!’) and the
mind fertile in expedients. At times the trapper appears in almost
superhuman proportions; he is mythical, like a hero of antiquity. The
attachment between the ancient hunter and his dog is exquisitely
described. In the beautiful account of Leather-Stocking’s last hour no
touch is more poetic than that where the dying man discovers that the
faithful Hector is dead. He will not say that a Christian can hope to meet
his hound again; but he asks that Hector be buried beside him; no
harm, he thinks, can come of that.
Thirteen years after the publication of The Prairie appeared The
Pathfinder, and one year after that The Deerslayer. The series was now
complete, forming ‘something like a drama in five acts.’ The Pathfinder
shows Natty in mature manhood, and (for the comfort of all who require
this test of their heroes of fiction) a victim of unrequited love. Exposed
to the wiles of the most treacherous of all Mingos, Cupid, the quondam
hunter, hunted in turn, takes defeat like the man he is. In The
Deerslayer the chronicle is completed with a group of scenes from
Natty’s youth. On the shores of Otsego Lake, while defending old
Hutter’s aquatic home, the young man learns the first lessons in the art
of war.
Cooper wrote yet other Indian stories. Two may be taken note of in
this section: The Wept of Wish-ton-Wish, a narrative of the Connecticut
settlements in ‘King Philip’s’ time, and Wyandotté, an episode of
frontier life in 1775. The latter is realistic. Cooper was on his own
ground and knew the Willoughby Patent and the Hutted Knoll much as
he knew ‘Templeton’ and Otsego Lake. The Wept of Wish-ton-Wish is
pure romance. In spite of the labored speech of the Puritan settlers and
the metaphorical flights of Metacom and Conanchet, the story is
enthralling. That is a genuinely pathetic scene where Ruth Heathcote
seeks to awaken in the mind of Narramattah, her lost daughter, now the
wife of the Narragansett chief, some faint memory of her childhood, and
the account of Conanchet’s death at the hands of the Mohicans is a
strong and dramatic piece of writing.

VI
THE SEA STORIES
FROM THE PILOT TO MILES WALLINGFORD

The Pilot is an imaginary episode in the life of John Paul Jones. Cooper
has given his hero a poetic character. ‘Mr. Gray’ applies science to the
problem before him up to the critical moment, and then trusts to
intuition, to his genius, and finds wind and wave owning him their
master. The new note is in the vivid descriptive passages, couched in
terms of practical seamanship, but so graphically put that the most
ignorant of lubbers can be depended on to read with a quickened
pulse. Notable among these are the rescue of the frigate from the
shoals, and the fight between the ‘Alacrity’ and ‘Ariel.’
There is much human nature in the speech of the men if not of the
women. The dialogue between Borroughcliffe and Manual would not
shame books more celebrated for humor than The Pilot. Vast
refreshment can be found in the racy and picturesque talk of Long Tom
Coffin, the most original character in Cooper’s gallery of seamen; also
in that of Boltrope, who from an early ‘prejudyce’ against knee-
breeches (he somehow always imagined Satan as wearing them) never
became fully reconciled to the ship’s chaplain until that worthy left off
‘scudding under bare poles’ and garbed himself like other men. Dillon,
the lawyer, is too obviously the scoundrel. As the ‘Cacique of Pedee,’
however, he serves a good end. His kinsman, Colonel Howard, walks
the stage with dignity, a worthy specimen of the loyalist of the American
Revolution, and typical of the class for whom Cooper had much
sympathy.
The young women are far from being lay figures. They have beauty,
intelligence, courage, even audacity. That they are too perfect in
feature, form, manner, was a defect common to all fiction of the time;
the art of making a heroine of a plain woman was in its infancy. Cooper,
who could describe a girl, had always a deal of trouble to make her talk.
Did he never listen to the conversation of those interesting creatures
known, in the parlance of his day, as ‘females’? Would Alice
Dunscombe, meeting her lover after a separation of six years, have
used the phrases Cooper put into her lips? All these young women
might with justice have complained that the speaking parts assigned
them were not representative. But they were at the author’s mercy and
did as they were told.
Cooper’s principal biographer, to whom we are all vastly indebted,
says that ‘the female characters of his earlier novels are never able to
do anything successfully but faint.’ This is unfair. Katherine Plowden, a
brunette beauty, whom Professor Lounsbury has allowed himself to
forget, goes habited en garçon to seek her lover, and does not faint
when she finds him, only laughs like the gay Rosalind she is.
The story of ‘Mr. Gray the pilot’ is good, but The Red Rover is
better. Cooper gave the public something new in pirates. The old-
fashioned corsair, in theatrical phrase, looked his part. He swore
horribly, was awful to behold, black-whiskered, visibly blood-stained, a
walking stand of arms, like the monsters described in Esquemeling’s
Buccaneers of America. Unlike L’Olonnois, of evil memory, the captain
of the ‘Dolphin’ is almost a Brummell; his cabin is a boudoir, and he has
the wit to eschew the old-fashioned device of skull and cross-bones.
One is inclined, however, to laugh when the pirate ‘throws his form on a
divan’ and bids music discourse. The Rover was somewhat given to
posing, and in moments of deep thought wore a ‘look of faded marble.’
There is nothing fantastic in Wilder, the young captain, and nothing
to be desired in his handling of the ‘Royal Caroline.’ The description of
the flight before the strange cruiser is a splendidly nervous piece of
writing. From the moment when the Bristol trader disentangles herself
from the slaver’s side in the harbor of Newport until she becomes a
wreck on the high seas and the diabolical pursuer passes like a
hurricane, the interest is cumulative.
The book has its quota of garrulous old salts, some of whom talk
too much, others not enough. ‘Mister Nightingale’ promises well, but
has little of value to say after his discourse anent the quantity of sail a
ship may carry in a white squall off the coast of Guinea. The reader will
find amusement in the other characters, notably Fid and that strange
being, Scipio Africanus.
The Water-Witch concerns a mysterious and beautiful smuggling
brigantine with a wonderful gift for eluding Her Majesty’s revenue
cruiser under command of Captain Ludlow. The time is the close of
Lord Cornbury’s administration, the scene, New York harbor and the
adjacent estuaries. The story is fantastic and melodramatic, and the
dialogue stilted, even for Cooper. Compared with The Red Rover, a
romance like The Water-Witch is hard reading. With such characters as
Alderman Van Beverout, Alida de Barbérie, and ‘Seadrift’ with her
epicene beauty, it is not surprising that The Water-Witch should have
been dramatized.
 The Two Admirals is an engaging picture of manly affection. He
who has made the acquaintance of Sir Gervaise Oakes and his friend
Richard Bluewater is to be congratulated, for a more sterling-hearted
pair of worthies is seldom to be found. Other pleasant company may be
had for the asking; the aged baronet Sir Wycherly Wychecombe,
hospitable to excess, bemoaning the inconvenience of not having a
satisfactory heir, and wondering why his brother never married, though
he had never given himself the trouble to undergo the discipline of
wedlock. Agreeable in their several ways are Mildred Dutton, Wycherly
Wychecombe the young Virginian, and Galleygo the top man turned
steward, he of the picturesque language. The story has a conventional
plot, and one is supposed to be eager to know the validity of the
Virginian’s claim to the ancient estate of the Wychecombes. The plot is
in danger of being forgotten when Cooper carries his people to sea,
and describes the action between French and English fleets off Cape la
Hogue.
Wing-and-Wing relates the adventures of a French privateer in the
Mediterranean in 1798. One has not to read far before becoming
enamoured of the diabolical little lugger and her audacious captain. As
creatures of romance go, the good-humored and handsome Raoul
Yvard (alias ‘Sir Smees’) is real and attractive. His arguments with
Ghita (they talk theology not at all after the manner of Mrs. Humphry
Ward’s characters) move one to turn the pages hurriedly. Raoul may be
forgiven; Ghita drove him to it, being orthodox and fond of proselyting.
One can always take refuge with the vice-governatore and the podestà.
These worthies are long-winded, but it were unfair to call them dull.
Ithuel Bolt, that long-legged, loose-jointed son of the Granite State,
is new in Cooper’s gallery of seamen. He makes an interesting figure in
the wine-shop at Porto Ferrajo, his chair, creaking under his weight,
tipped back on two legs against the wall, the uprights digging into the
plaster, his knees apart, ‘you fancy how,’ and his long arms over the
backs of neighboring chairs, giving him a resemblance to a spread
eagle. Next to the wine of the country, which he abuses while
succumbing to its influence, he detests the saints. Filippo, the Genoese
sailor, undertakes a feeble defence. Says the Yankee: ‘A saint is but a
human—a man like you and me, after all the fuss you make about ’em.
Saints abound in my country, if you’d believe people’s account of
themselves.’ Cooper says that Bolt, after his return to America, became
a deacon. This is no more incredible than the statement that he also
became a teetotaler.
The pages of old reviews would probably show how Cooper’s
delineation of Englishmen affected English readers. Our cousins over
the water must have been difficult if they quarrelled with the spirit in
which the portraits of Cuffe, Griffin, Winchester, and Clinch were
painted, all being good men and true in their various capacities. In
describing Nelson and the ‘Lady Admiraless’ the novelist undertook a
difficult task. He was adroit enough to avoid bringing the famous beauty
too often on the stage.
Afloat and Ashore and Miles Wallingford form a continuous story of
almost a thousand pages. There is a mixture of love and adventure, the
love being depicted as Cooper usually does it, neither better nor worse,
and the sea-episodes as only Cooper could do them.
A capital passage in Afloat and Ashore is that describing the
encounter with the savages off the coast of South America. Even more
spirited are those chapters of Miles Wallingford in which the young
captain of the ‘Dawn’ relates how he was overhauled successively by a
British man-of-war, a French privateer, and a piratical lugger, and how
he escaped them all only to be wrecked at last in the Irish Sea. Among
a dozen or so of characters Marble is a typical Cooper seaman, a man
of many resources, as witness how he outwitted Sennit. He was
patriotic too, and on his first visit to London was chagrined at being
obliged to admit that St. Paul’s was better than anything they had in
Kennebunk.

VII
OLD-WORLD ROMANCE AND NEW-WORLD
SATIRE
THE BRAVO, THE HEIDENMAUER, THE HEADSMAN,
HOMEWARD BOUND, HOME AS FOUND
The Bravo was the first of a group of stories on themes suggested to
their author during his stay on the Continent. It deals with Venetian life
during the decline of the Republic. Jacopo Frontoni, the reputed bravo,
becomes party to the iniquitous system which conceals crimes
committed in the interest of the oligarchy, by throwing the suspicion on
himself, all to the end that he may save his aged father, unjustly
imprisoned by the state. Under this odium Jacopo lives until life
becomes unendurable. At the moment he is meditating flight he is
himself enmeshed in the toils and dies by the hand of the public
executioner. A power which holds that it can do no wrong has a short
way with servants who might betray its tortuous policy.
Jacopo comes too near to being a saint. He would have been more
lifelike had he been guilty of one at least of the twenty-five murders laid
at his door. Even a hired assassin of the Fifteenth Century might show
filial piety.
His fate more or less involves that of the old fisherman of the
lagoons, Antonio, a representative of that helpless, oppressed class
which is without rights save the right of being punished if it does not
obey. Antonio is a nobly pathetic character, one of the finest to which
Cooper’s imagination has given being. His patience, his love for the
grandchild taken from him by the state to serve in the galleys, his
courage in pleading before the Doge and even in the dread presence of
the Council of Three that the boy may be given back to him until he has
been formed in habits of virtue, are strong and beautiful traits.
Violetta and Don Camillo furnish the love motive, without which a
romance of Venice were barren. We sympathize with them and rejoice
in their escape. More than this the author could not ask.
That the story contains anachronisms admits of no doubt. It may be
that the arraignment of the oligarchy is too unrelieved. On the other
hand, the virtues of the narrative are many. The movement is rapid, the
sentences clear, the various strands of interest artfully woven, and the
conclusion inevitable and dramatic.
The Heidenmauer deals with the manners and the antagonisms of
the time when the schism of Luther was undermining the Church. Far
less engrossing than its predecessor and weighted with a cumbrous
style, the book has its right valiant warriors and militant churchmen, its
burghers, peasants, and other dramatis personæ of German romance.
There are characters like Gottlob and old Ilse whose speech is always
fresh and agreeable. The French abbé is voluble and might have been
wittier. That one does not sit down to a table spread with an intellectual
feast like that served in The Monastery or The Abbot, is no reason for
disdaining the fare served in The Heidenmauer.
In The Headsman we follow the story of a highborn girl who has
given her heart to a young soldier of fortune only to discover in him the
son of that most loathed of beings, the official executioner of Berne.
The office is hereditary, and were the youth’s real condition known the
odious duties would in time fall on him. It is a foregone conclusion that
Sigismund shall be found to be of noble birth, and Adelheid’s reward
proportioned to the greatness of her soul. This is but one thread of a
fairly complicated and romantic plot. The interest of the narrative is well
sustained and the denouement unanticipated. None of these three
romances is, strictly speaking, a novel of purpose, and the least
attractive deserves friendlier critical treatment than is commonly
accorded it.
In the same group may be placed Mercedes of Castile, which, if it
cannot hold the attention by reason of the loves of Don Luis de
Bobadilla and Mercedes, and the fate of the unfortunate Ozema, may
be read (by whoever can take history well diluted with fiction) for the
story of Columbus’s first voyage.
The Monikins contrasts the ways of men with the ways of monkeys,
much to the disadvantage of men. Really it is no duller than some of
the professed satire of the present day; it is merely longer and more
desperately serious.
Homeward Bound and Home as Found form two parts of a single
novel. The satire of the first part is forgotten in the movement of the
narrative, the sea-chase, the wreck off the African coast, the fight with
the Arabs. The second part is a diatribe on New York and Cooperstown
in particular, and America in general. The chief characters, the
Effinghams, mean well, but ‘they have an unfortunate manner,’ and
their disagreeable traits are not so piquant as to be entertaining.
Steadfast Dodge, the editor, is almost as unreal as the Effinghams.
Captain Truck is a genuine brother man, resourceful as master of the
‘Montauk,’ and not helpless when figuring (without his connivance) as a
great English author, at Mrs. Legend’s literary soirée.
Horatio Greenough had the ‘Effingham’ books in mind when he
wrote to Cooper: ‘I think you lose hold on the American public by
rubbing down their shins with brickbats as you do.’

VIII
TRAVELS, HISTORY, POLITICAL WRITINGS
AND LATEST NOVELS
Cooper was a giant of productivity. Some brief comment has been
made on twenty-three of his novels. It is impossible in the limits of this
study to do much beyond giving the titles of his remaining books.
The History of the Navy of the United States of America begins with
‘the earliest American sea-fight’ (May, 1636), when John Gallop in a
sloop of twenty tons captured a pinnace manned by thieving Indians,
and closes with the War of 1812. The noteworthy features of the book
are accuracy, independence, severity of style, and freedom from
spread-eagleism. The brief Chronicles of Cooperstown, written in a
plain way, has the natural interest attaching to the subject and the
author.
A Letter to his Countrymen, partly autobiographical, is absorbing in
its bitter earnestness. The Travelling Bachelor purports to be the letters
of a cosmopolite, a man of fifty, to various members of his club,
recounting his travels in the United States. The book is historical,
statistical, argumentative. It treats of government, manners, art,
literature, of fashions in dress and of peculiarities of speech. As an
attempt on the part of a man of strong prejudices to take an objective
view of his own country, it is singularly interesting. Were its seven
hundred closely printed pages lightened with humor or relieved by any
grace of expression, The Travelling Bachelor would be a vastly
entertaining work.
 The American Democrat is a collection of short essays, forty-five in
number, on the American republic, liberty, parties, public opinion,
property, the press, demagogues, the decay of manners, individuality,
aristocrat and democrat, pronunciation, slavery, etc., etc. The tone of
the comments is intentionally censorious, and often proves
exasperating. Having been long absent from America, Cooper found
himself to a certain degree ‘in the situation of a foreigner in his own
country.’ On this account he was prepared to note peculiarities. Praise
and blame are mingled. The American Democrat sets forth high ideals,
as may be seen, for example, in the suggestive essay on party. The
book is courageous but wanting in suavity.
Sketches of Switzerland and Gleanings in Europe, comprising ten
volumes in the original editions, are studies of Continental and English
life. They contain a multitude of spirited, pungent, and true
observations. Lacking the ‘antiseptic of style,’ the books are no longer
read.
Between 1845 and 1850 Cooper published eight novels. Three of
the eight, Satanstoe, The Chainbearer, and The Redskins, are
narratives supposed to be drawn from the ‘Littlepage Manuscripts.’ The
first is not only the best, but is also one of the most genial of all
Cooper’s novels. Corny Littlepage had attractive friends, such as the
mettlesome youth Guert Ten Eyck, a splendid specimen of the free-
handed, royally generous Dutch-American. Jason Newcome, on the
other hand, embodies Cooper’s never latent hostility to New England.
The pictures of old days in New York and Albany are brilliant and highly
finished, and the encounter with the Indians in Cooper’s most spirited
vein.
The Crater is a history of the adventures of Mark Woolston of
Bristol, Bucks County, Pennsylvania, who was shipwrecked on a
volcanic island in the Pacific, and with the able seaman Bob Betts set
himself to solve the problem of existence. What with gardening, poultry-
raising, boat-building, tempests, earthquakes, exploration of
neighboring islands, colonization, savages, and pirates, the book
resolves itself into one of the infinite variations of Robinson Crusoe.
After twenty-nine chapters of this sort of thing comes an absurd and
irrelevant conclusion.
 All the later novels, Jack Tier, The Sea Lions, Oak Openings, and
The Ways of the Hour, are hard reading, yet the least happy of them
has passages betraying the master’s hand. The Sea Lions stands out
by virtue of the powerful descriptions of an Antarctic winter; but neither
Captain Spike’s mission to the gulf, nor the revelation of fat, profane
Jack’s true station and sex, nor yet the malapropisms of Mrs. Budd
(she would say ‘It blew what they call a Hyson in the Chinese seas’),
can make Jack Tier more than tolerable.

* * * * *
Cooper’s greatest achievements were his stories of the sea and the
forest. His real creations are sailors, backwoodsmen, old soldiers, and
Indians. Whether his red men are conceived in the spirit of modern
ethnological science can matter but little now. They are neither so close
to Chateaubriand’s idealized savage, nor so far from the real Indian as
is generally believed. That Cooper had no skill in representing
contemporary society is plain enough; but the failure of Home as Found
need not have been as complete as it was. Haste and anger must bear
the blame of that literary disaster. Where he deals with manners of the
past, as in Satanstoe, he is often most felicitous. With his novel of The
Bravo he was in line with the Romantic movement. How far he
comprehended that movement, or was influenced by it, is a more
intricate problem.
Modern literature can show but few authors more popular than
Cooper. He has been praised extravagantly; but the fact that Miss
Mitford thought him as good as Scott ought not to prejudice us against
him. And he has been damned without measure; but over against Mark
Twain’s unchivalrous attack on his great fellow countryman may be set
the royally generous tributes of Balzac and of Dumas.

FOOTNOTES:
7
Judge Cooper’s A Guide in the Wilderness, Dublin, 1810, was
reprinted in 1897 with an introduction by J. F. Cooper [the
Younger], throwing much light on the manners of the times and
the character of his ancestor.
8
One of the most extraordinary of the suits arose from criticism of
the Naval History. Cooper had refused to take the popular side of
a heated controversy and to join in assailing Elliott, Perry’s
second in command at the Battle of Lake Erie. The suit, against
Stone of the ‘Commercial Advertiser,’ was settled by arbitration,
and in Cooper’s favor. Lounsbury’s Cooper, pp. 200–230.
9
Park Theatre, New York, March, 1822.
10
Burton’s Theatre, New York, June, 1850.
 IV
George Bancroft

REFERENCES:

W. M. Sloane: ‘George Bancroft in Society, in

Politics, in Letters,’ ‘The Century Magazine,’
January, 1887.
S. S. Green: ‘George Bancroft,’ Proceedings of the
American Antiquarian Society, April 29, 1891.
A. McF. Davis: ‘George Bancroft,’ Proceedings of the
American Academy of Arts and Sciences, vol.
xxvi, 1891.

I
HIS LIFE

The Bancrofts have been settled in America since 1632. Among the
historian’s ancestors were men of marked traits of character. Bancroft’s
grandfather, a farmer of Essex County, Massachusetts, had such a
reputation for piety and judgment that he was called on to act as an
umpire in the bitter dispute between Jonathan Edwards and his church
at Northampton.
The father of the historian, Aaron Bancroft, a pioneer of American
Unitarianism, was for fifty years pastor of the Second Church of
Worcester. His distinguishing trait was ‘a deep-seated abhorrence of
anything like mental slavery.’ He was an ardent student of American
history and the author of an Essay on the Life of George Washington
(1807), a popular book in its own day and well worth the reading in
ours. George Bancroft thought ‘that his own inclination toward history
was due very much to the influence of his father.’
There is a story (probably apocryphal) that in his youth Aaron
Bancroft fought at Lexington and Bunker Hill. During Shays’s Rebellion,
when the insurgent officers proposed to quarter themselves in private
houses at Worcester, the minister guarded his own door and told a
group of officers who approached that they were rebels, and that ‘they
would obtain no entrance to his house but by violence.’ The officers
immediately rode away.
George Bancroft was born at Worcester on October 3, 1800. He
prepared for college at Phillips Academy, Exeter, New Hampshire, and
was graduated at Harvard in 1817. Edward Everett, the newly
appointed professor of Greek, who was then studying at Göttingen,
urged President Kirkland to send some graduate of marked powers to
Germany with a view to his preparing himself to teach at Harvard. The
choice fell on Bancroft. He spent two years at Göttingen and obtained
his doctorate. Among his professors were Heeren, Dissen, Eichhorn,
and Blumenbach; Heeren’s influence was the most profound and the
most lasting. His range of studies was wide, including, as it did, history,
German literature, Greek philosophy, natural history, Scripture
interpretation, Arabic, Syriac, and Persian.
From Göttingen, Bancroft went to Berlin, where he heard the
lectures of Savigny, Schleiermacher, and Hegel, and made the
acquaintance of Voss, W. von Humboldt, and F. A. Wolf. He had the
fortune to meet Goethe once at Jena, and again at Weimar. After
leaving Berlin he studied for a time at Heidelberg under Von Schlosser.
In Paris he met Cousin, Constant, and A. von Humboldt. He travelled in
Switzerland and Italy, and spent the winter of 1821–22 at Rome, where
he made the acquaintance of Niebuhr and Bunsen. At Leghorn the
following spring he was one of a party of Americans who gathered to
meet Byron when the poet visited the ‘Constitution,’ the flagship of the
American squadron. Bancroft afterwards called on Byron at Montenero,
and was presented to the Countess Guiccioli.
 In the fall of 1822 Bancroft became a tutor of Greek at Harvard.
The following year he resigned his position, not to enter the ministry in
accordance with his father’s wishes, but to become a schoolmaster. He
joined his friend, Joseph G. Cogswell (the directing spirit in the
enterprise), in founding a school for boys at Round Hill, Northampton.
Emerson, then a youth of twenty, heard Bancroft preach at the ‘New
South’ in Boston soon after his return from Germany, and was
‘delighted with his eloquence.’ ‘He needs a great deal of cutting and
pruning, but we think him an infant Hercules.’ Emerson deplored
Bancroft’s new departure, ‘because good schoolmasters are as plenty
as whortleberries, but good ministers assuredly are not, and Bancroft
might be one of the best.’
On the eve of leaving Cambridge, Bancroft published, under the
title of Poems, a volume of correct if not inspired verse. At Northampton
his literary activity found more sober expression in text-books, in
papers for the ‘North American Review’ and Walsh’s ‘American
Quarterly,’ and in a careful translation of Heeren’s Politics of Ancient
Greece (1824). At the celebration of Independence Day at
Northampton in 1826, Bancroft was the orator. He chanted the present
glory of America, predicted a golden future, and declared his faith in a
‘determined uncompromising democracy.’ These notes were to be
heard again and often in his great history.
Round Hill, though prosperous in many ways, was not a success
financially, nor were the partners wholly congenial. After seven years
Bancroft withdrew from the school and began writing the book on which
his fame rests. In 1834 appeared the first volume of A History of the
United States from the discovery of the American continent to the
present time. The second volume was published in 1837, the third in
1840.
The historian removed to Springfield and became prominent in
state politics. He was an ardent Democrat and a strong opponent of
slavery. Elected without his knowledge to the legislature, he refused to
take his seat; he also declined a nomination to the senate. It is said that
he took this attitude with respect to office-holding out of deference to
the feelings of his wife, Sarah (Dwight) Bancroft, who came of a
11
prominent Whig family. Mrs. Bancroft died in 1837. Appointed
Collector of the Port of Boston by President Van Buren, Bancroft held
the office from 1838 to 1841, and administered its affairs with a
thoroughness theretofore unknown, and in a way incidentally to reflect
great credit on the profession of letters.
In 1844 Bancroft was the Democratic candidate for governor of
Massachusetts and polled a large vote, but was defeated by George N.
Briggs. A year later he became Secretary of the Navy under President
Polk. In the exercise of his duties he gave the order to take possession
of California, and as acting Secretary of War the order to General
Taylor to occupy Texas.
During his secretaryship Bancroft founded the United States Naval
Academy at Annapolis. This he brought about not by asking Congress
to authorize its establishment, but by so interpreting the powers granted
him under the law that he was able to set in operation a school for the
training of midshipmen and offer it to Congress for approval. Once the
school was established and its usefulness proved, there was no
difficulty in securing funds for adequate equipment. The Academy was
formally opened on October 10, 1845.
From 1846 to 1849 Bancroft was minister to England. There were
important diplomatic problems to be solved, but his triumphs were
chiefly literary and social. He accumulated a rich store of documents,
and on his return to America made his home in New York and devoted
12
himself anew to the History. The fourth volume appeared in 1852; the
fifth in 1853; the sixth in 1854; the seventh in 1858; the eighth in 1860;
the ninth in 1866; the tenth and concluding volume in 1874. His Literary
and Historical Miscellanies appeared in 1855.
When the New York Historical Society celebrated the close of the
first half-century of its existence (1854), Bancroft was the orator. His
address on that occasion, ‘The Necessity, the Reality, and the Promise
of the Progress of the Human Race,’ has been pronounced the best
13
exposition of his historical creed.
Bancroft was a strong Union man and during the Civil War acted
with the Republican party. He declined a nomination to Congress from
the eighth district of New York (October, 1862), on the ground that a
multiplication of candidates would leave the result very much to
chance; there should be a union, he urged, of all those ‘who feel deeply
for their country in this her hour of peril.’ At the close of the war he was
chosen to pronounce the eulogy on Lincoln before Congress (February,
1866).
President Johnson, in 1867, appointed Bancroft minister to Prussia.
Later he was accredited to the North German Confederation, and in
1872, following current political changes, to the German Empire. He
brought about that notable treaty whereby Germans who had become
citizens of the United States were freed from allegiance to the land of
their birth. Never before by a ‘formal act’ had the principle of
‘renunciation of citizenship at ‘the will of the individual been
recognized.’ England followed Germany’s example and gave over her
claim of indefeasible allegiance. Another diplomatic triumph was the
settlement of the North-western boundary dispute. While in Germany
Bancroft celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of his graduation at
Göttingen. The University gave him an honorary degree, and
congratulations were showered on him from scholars, statesmen,
princes, and men of letters.
After nearly eight years of service Bancroft was recalled from the
German mission at his own request. He lived in Washington during the
winter months and spent the summers at Newport as had long been his
habit. The work of his later years included two revisions of the History
(1876 and 1884), a History of the Formation of the Constitution of the
United States (1882), A Plea for the Constitution of the United States of
America, wounded in the House of its Guardians (1886), and a sketch
of the public life of Martin Van Buren (1889).
Bancroft died in Washington on January 17, 1891.

II
HIS CHARACTER
Bancroft’s character was fashioned on a large scale. His mental
horizon was broad, his power to plan and carry out a vast undertaking
was commensurate with the reach of his vision. There was little in his
habit of thought to suggest the narrowness so often associated with the
name of scholar. Yet he had the infinitely laborious powers of the mere
scholar. He could toil with unflagging energy day by day or year by
year.
The magisterial note in his historical writings is due not alone to the
subject or to the literary manner, but also to the deliberate tenacity of
purpose with which the historian wrought. Such a work is the product,
not of feverish spasms of intellectual activity, but of even and steady
effort.
Bancroft has been accused of a want of enthusiasm in receiving
critical observations on his work. It is a question whether historians
(more than philosophers) are wont to receive with rapture proofs that
they are possibly in the wrong. Bancroft’s tone of controversy is
perhaps less peculiar to himself than is commonly asserted. However, it
must be kept in mind that he had a ‘strong nervous personality.’
Emerson described the greeting he had from Bancroft in London.
When he presented himself at the minister’s door, ‘it was opened by Mr.
Bancroft himself in the midst of servants whom that man of eager
manners thrust aside, saying that he would open his own door for me.
He was full of goodness and talk.’ Other accounts of him give an
impression of much stateliness of manner tempered by affability. Still
others convey the idea that he was always artificial, and sometimes
14
playful with a playfulness that bordered on frivolity. A friend professed
to detect in Bancroft’s bearing marks of the man of letters, diplomat,
politician, preacher and pedagogue, one trait superimposed on another.
15
But the blend of characteristics was charming.

III
THE WRITER
The charge brought against Bancroft of having embellished his themes
with ‘cheap rhetoric’ is unjust. Rhetorical the historian undoubtedly was,
but the rhetoric was not cheap. It had the merit of sincerity; it was the
result of an honest effort to present important facts and comments in
becoming garb.
 In 1834 the style thought appropriate to historical writing was
markedly oratorical. Historians addressed their readers. A pomp of
expression, something almost liturgical, was held seemly if not indeed
of last importance. Reading their works, one involuntarily calls up a
vision of grave gentlemen in much-wrinkled frock-coats, making stilted
gestures, and looking even more unreal than their statues which now
terrify posterity. Bancroft was affected by the prevailing drift towards
oratorical forms. At times one is tempted to exclaim: ‘This was not
meant to be read but to be heard.’
Take for example this passage on Sebastian Cabot: ‘He lived to an
extreme old age and loved his profession to the last; in the hour of
death his wandering thoughts were upon the ocean. The discoverer of
the territory of our country was one of the most extraordinary men of his
age; there is deep cause for regret that time has spared so few
memorials of his career. Himself incapable of jealousy, he did not
escape detraction. He gave England a continent, and no one knows his
burial place.’
Not to enter into the question whether this is good, or indifferent, or
even bad writing, it is sufficient to note that the passage in question
belongs to spoken discourse rather than to literature. It appeals to us, if
at all, through the medium of the ear rather than the eye.
Take for another example the comparison of Puritan and Cavalier:
Historians have loved to eulogize ‘the manners and virtues, the glory
and the benefits of chivalry. Puritanism accomplished for mankind far
more. If it had the sectarian crime of intolerance, chivalry had the vices
of dissoluteness. The knights were brave from gallantry of spirit; the
puritans from the fear of God. The knights were proud of loyalty, the
puritans of liberty. The knights did homage to monarchs, in whose smile
they beheld honor, whose rebuke was the wound of disgrace; the
puritans, disdaining ceremony, would not bend the knee to the King of
kings. The former valued courtesy; the latter justice. The former
adorned society by graceful refinements; the latter founded national
grandeur on universal education. The institutions of chivalry were
subverted by the gradually increasing weight, and knowledge, and
opulence, of the industrious classes; the puritans, relying on those
classes, planted in their hearts the undying principles of democratic
liberty.’