Yesterday the German newspaper Die Welt published a chapter from the travelogue I‘ve left for Ertugrul. My Dream Journey through Hell and back by the German author Oliver Maria Schmitt. The article, which does not mince words and paints a rather unflattering picture of Icelanders, has caused quite a stir in Icelandic social media and among Icelandophiles internationally.
Mr Schmitt. The politician, punk rocker and satirist
Very few Icelanders know Oliver Maria Schmitt, but according to his Wikipedia page he is both a author and politician, although his political career appears to have been rather unsuccessful. Mr. Schmitt has made several attempts at running for various offices, garnering between 0.2 and 1.8% the vote. He has also played in a punk band called low blow, which does not appear to have met with commercial success.
Schmitt has been more successful as an author, publishing several books since the 1990s, as well as serving as the editor of a publication called Titanic, which is described as satirical.
We assume Mr. Schmitt‘s travelogue was intended as a sarcastic joke.
A German comedian? That‘s a contradiction in terms
Icelandic social media has been split between those who find the account hilarious, arguing it was high time someone dared describe Iceland in something other than the colors of the Aurora or midsummer sunset. Among those who weighed in on Facebook was the poet Jón Örn Loðmfjörð, better known as Lommi, who saw in Oliver Maria Schmitt the perfect antidote to the marketing campaign Inspired by Iceland: Wow! Finally a marketing slogan I can get behind. Inspired by nihilistic emptiness. I‘ll buy that T-shirt.
Others were not as amused. Egill Helgason, one of the most prominent commentators on Icelandic politics and culture, weighed in on the debate on his blog, with a post entitled Is this supposed to be funny?“
Looking Oliver Maria Schmitt up on the internet reveals that he is a German comedian. Which is a contradiction in terms.
Egill points out that many have quoted mr. Schmitt, arguing he is being sarcastic. He rejects this: For something to be considered sarcastic it needs to hit home, which Schmitt fails to do. It is almost as if he has never visited Iceland. Neither did Blefken – no, I won‘t start comparing him to Blefken.
Unfunny and insulting, but still no Blefken
The Blefken Egill is referring to is Dithmar Blefken, a 17th century German geographer who is best known for his work Islandia, published in 1607. Blefken claimed he composed Islandia, which was a description of Iceland and the Icelandic people, after visiting the country with Hamburg merchants. The book painted a picture of a backward and inbred people living in squalor and dirt. It is uncertain whether Blefken actually visited Iceland as the book contained a plethora of inaccuracies, errors and outright falsehoods.
Blefken‘s account was eviscerated by Arngrímur Jónsson, one of the leading scholars of the Icelandic enlightenment. Since the 17th century the name Blefken has aroused negative feelings, ranging from annoyance to outright hatred, among many Icelanders.
Read more: Iceland: an obnoxious island, populated by delusional and crazy people
Yesterday the German newspaper Die Welt published a chapter from the travelogue I‘ve left for Ertugrul. My Dream Journey through Hell and back by the German author Oliver Maria Schmitt. The article, which does not mince words and paints a rather unflattering picture of Icelanders, has caused quite a stir in Icelandic social media and among Icelandophiles internationally.
Mr Schmitt. The politician, punk rocker and satirist
Very few Icelanders know Oliver Maria Schmitt, but according to his Wikipedia page he is both a author and politician, although his political career appears to have been rather unsuccessful. Mr. Schmitt has made several attempts at running for various offices, garnering between 0.2 and 1.8% the vote. He has also played in a punk band called low blow, which does not appear to have met with commercial success.
Schmitt has been more successful as an author, publishing several books since the 1990s, as well as serving as the editor of a publication called Titanic, which is described as satirical.
We assume Mr. Schmitt‘s travelogue was intended as a sarcastic joke.
A German comedian? That‘s a contradiction in terms
Icelandic social media has been split between those who find the account hilarious, arguing it was high time someone dared describe Iceland in something other than the colors of the Aurora or midsummer sunset. Among those who weighed in on Facebook was the poet Jón Örn Loðmfjörð, better known as Lommi, who saw in Oliver Maria Schmitt the perfect antidote to the marketing campaign Inspired by Iceland: Wow! Finally a marketing slogan I can get behind. Inspired by nihilistic emptiness. I‘ll buy that T-shirt.
Others were not as amused. Egill Helgason, one of the most prominent commentators on Icelandic politics and culture, weighed in on the debate on his blog, with a post entitled Is this supposed to be funny?“
Looking Oliver Maria Schmitt up on the internet reveals that he is a German comedian. Which is a contradiction in terms.
Egill points out that many have quoted mr. Schmitt, arguing he is being sarcastic. He rejects this: For something to be considered sarcastic it needs to hit home, which Schmitt fails to do. It is almost as if he has never visited Iceland. Neither did Blefken – no, I won‘t start comparing him to Blefken.
Unfunny and insulting, but still no Blefken
The Blefken Egill is referring to is Dithmar Blefken, a 17th century German geographer who is best known for his work Islandia, published in 1607. Blefken claimed he composed Islandia, which was a description of Iceland and the Icelandic people, after visiting the country with Hamburg merchants. The book painted a picture of a backward and inbred people living in squalor and dirt. It is uncertain whether Blefken actually visited Iceland as the book contained a plethora of inaccuracies, errors and outright falsehoods.
Blefken‘s account was eviscerated by Arngrímur Jónsson, one of the leading scholars of the Icelandic enlightenment. Since the 17th century the name Blefken has aroused negative feelings, ranging from annoyance to outright hatred, among many Icelanders.
Read more: Iceland: an obnoxious island, populated by delusional and crazy people
