they will not see me. I will not be there

I think I might be a little bit jealous of Hannah Kent. Is jealous the right word? Envious of her talent, perhaps.

Hannah Kent has written a book. A first book. And a first book which has done very well.  

I don't really know why I put Burial Rites down halfway through. Perhaps I wasn't in the right space when I started to read it. Once I took the time to breathe and sit, and give it my attention and time, I realised that this is exactly the kind of book I love. 

Thoughtful and considered, with a cinematic beauty which was palpable, I became completely caught up in the unfolding story of Agnes Magnisdottir, the last person to be executed in Iceland.

Hannah, is it ok if I call her Hannah?, spent a year in Iceland on a rotary exchange programme when she was 18 years old. She lived in a small, remote and closely-knit fishing community in the northern part of Iceland. While she was there, she heard of Agnes' story and was drawn to it, sure there was so much more to the tale than what was recorded in the history books. 

Several years later, Hannah went back to Iceland to research every detail of the life and times of Agnes. She describes, Burial Rites as her dark love letter to Iceland.

Growing up in the Adelaide Hills, Hannah had never seen snow. The barren Scandinavian landscape in which she found herself made a huge impression on her. In the book, the landscape has such a presence that it is almost as though it is a character itself, and certainly it shapes the people who move within it.

The description of the backdrop to Agnes execution day is an example of the way Hannah uses landscape to reflect soul and the  inner-workings of the characters' minds, particularly that of Agnes:

"Now comes the darkening sky and a cold wind that passes right through you, as though you were not there, it passes through you as though it does not care whether you are alive or dead, for you will be gone and the wind will still be there, licking the grass flat upon the ground, not caring whether the soil is at freeze or thaw, for it will freeze and thaw again, and soon your bones, now hot with blood and thick-juicy with marrow, will be dry and brittle and flake and freeze and thaw with the weight of the dirt upon you, and the last moisture of your body will be drawn up to the surface by the grass, and the wind will come and knock it down and push you back against the rocks, or it will scrape you up under its nails and take you out to sea in a wild screaming of snow."

As in any based-on-history story, we know what the ending will be. We know that Agnes Magnusdottir will be beheaded. The suspense comes from the unfolding of her story; the understanding of the person behind the crime. For me, the execution became a side issue, I wanted to know about the woman who, on first encounter seemed so cold and distant, and who seemed to have been depicted by those around her as calculating and dangerous. 

Hannah's portrayal of Agnes is one of a woman who had experienced a childhood full of hardship and abandonment and a life of continued sadness. Misunderstood and scorned, she just wanted to be seen and loved.

I feel for the Agnes I got to know in the pages of Burial Rites. It feels as though she somehow represents what we are all capable of: loving and being confused and feeling lost and making good decisions and bad decisions. Love and life are confusing things and the decisions we make don't make us good or bad. They just make us human.