(Eirikr) Magnusson – 30s
Icelandic linguist and theologian, tough,
pedantic. While he greatly respected Morris’s capacity to learn the language as
well as the sagas, he also later provided corrective footnotes to the journal, showing
Morris to have been slapdash on occasion: ‘Surtr is the God of fire (soot, cocknice, sutt)’ appends Morris.
Magnusson adds: ‘Surt means Swart; he
was a demon not the god of fire.’ While Morris is enjoying a wallow in the bath
of the thirteenth-century poet Snorri, which he describes as being cemented
with bitumen, Magnusson qualifies the experience: ‘For “bitumen” read silicious
sinter (islandice “hveragrjót”).
Bitumen does not exist in the country and was not an article of import in
Snorri’s time.’
He
is reserved but wry, even teasing Morris (as everyone does).
His
voice should be a dry, measured contrast to Morris's bubbling exuberance and
flightiness.
SCENE 6
STATION
NOISE, STEAM TRAIN, CROWDS
MORRIS:
Where's
Magnusson? I can't go without my Icelander!
MAGNUSSON approaching:
Good
morning, Morris. Shall we take our seats?
THEY
CONTINUE THE CONVERSATION WHILE CLIMBING ON BOARD
MORRIS:
You're
late. If we'd missed this train, the whole trip would be off.
MAGNUSSON:
You
wouldn't go alone? Not even now you speak Icelandic?
MORRIS:
I
know what you think of my Icelandic. But I've worked damned hard. We've been
meeting three times a week!
