Burial Rites by Hannah Kent
About Burial Rites
In northern Iceland, 1829, Agnes Magnúsdóttir is condemned to death for her part in the brutal murder of two men.
Agnes is sent to wait out the time leading to her execution on the farm of District Officer Jón Jónsson, his wife and their two daughters. Horrified to have a convicted murderess in their midst, the family avoids speaking with Agnes. Only Tóti, the young assistant reverend appointed as Agnes’s spiritual guardian, is compelled to try to understand her, as he attempts to salvage her soul. As the summer months fall away to winter and the hardships of rural life force the household to work side by side, Agnes’s ill-fated tale of longing and betrayal begins to emerge. And as the days to her execution draw closer, the question burns: did she or didn’t she?
Based on a true story, Burial Rites is a deeply moving novel about personal freedom: who we are seen to be versus who we believe ourselves to be, and the ways in which we will risk everything for love. In beautiful, cut-glass prose, Hannah Kent portrays Iceland’s formidable landscape, where every day is a battle for survival, and asks, how can one woman hope to endure when her life depends upon the stories told by others?
‘Burial Rites is an accomplished gem, its prose as crisp and sparkling as its northern setting.’
For my parents
A NOTE ON ICELANDIC NAMES
Icelanders have traditionally used a patronymic naming system, whereby a child’s last name is derived from his or her father’s first name, together with an affixation of -són or -dóttir. Agnes Magnúsdóttir is therefore literally translated as Agnes Magnús’s daughter. Because of this system, blood members of an Icelandic family may all have different surnames.
A NOTE ON ICELANDIC PRONUNCIATION
For ease of pronunciation, not all Icelandic letters have been used in this printing. The consonants e (D) and t (T) have been replaced with ‘d’ and ‘th’ respectively.
The pronunciation of certain vowels are conditioned by accents:
á as the ow in owl
é as the ye in yet
í as the ee in been
ó as the o in note
? as in the French fleur
ú as the oo in moon
y as the ee in been
? as the i in wife
au as in the French oeil
ei as the ay in way
‘I WAS WORST TO THE ONE I LOVED BEST.’
Laxd?la Saga
PROLOGUE
THEY SAID I MUST DIE. They said that I stole the breath from men, and now they must steal mine. I imagine, then, that we are all candle flames, greasy-bright, fluttering in the darkness and the howl of the wind, and in the stillness of the room I hear footsteps, awful coming footsteps, coming to blow me out and send my life up away from me in a grey wreath of smoke. I will vanish into the air and the night. They will blow us all out, one by one, until it is only their own light by which they see themselves. Where will I be then?
Sometimes I think I see it again, the farm, burning in the dark. Sometimes I can feel the ache of winter in my lungs, and I think I see the flames mirrored in the ocean, the water so strange, so flickered with light. There was a moment during that night when I looked back. I looked back to watch the fire, and if I lick my skin I can still taste the salt. The smoke.
It wasn’t always so cold.
I hear footsteps.
CHAPTER ONE
Public Notice
THERE WILL BE AN AUCTION on the 24th of March 1828, at Illugastadir, for the valuables the farmer Natan Ketilsson has left behind. There is one cow, a few horses, a considerable amount of sheep, hay and furniture, a saddle, a bridle, and many dishes and plates. All this will be sold if a decent offer is presented. All valuables will be awarded to the highest bidder. If the auction is not possible due to bad weather, it will be cancelled and held the next day, weather allowing.
DISTRICT COMMISSIONER
Bj?rn Bl?ndal
20th of March 1828
To the Very Reverend Jóhann Tómasson,