I'm sorry it took me so long to read & review this novel. Even more than being my first ever Icelandic novel, it was a fascinating story about the search for self in spite of what society suggests you should be. Hekla and the people around her are fascinating, unique, and endlessly interesting.

Sadly this book just was not for me. This sat on my kindle for quite some time - twice I have attempted to read and twice I did not finish.

Thankyou for the opportunity but I will not be providing feedback on any commercial sites for this book.

Not what i thought it was going to be. But i was plesantly suprised. It was interesting, and the cover and all kind of had me fooled at first. But it was interesting.

Thank you for the opportunity to read. Iceland is one of my favorite places and I always seek out books set there. Rated the book on Goodreads and will be sharing on Instagram shortly.

Real Rating: 4.5* of five, rounded up because it might be one note but it's beautifully played

It's always been true that, to be a success, a woman must do twice as much and can expect half the reward a man would get for the same labor. Hekla, cursed with both attractiveness and intelligence in a smugly patriarchal culture, learns that to be a writer who is taken seriously while also being a pretty female is a Sisyphean task. The 1960s were not yet times of change in Iceland....

Hekla's ambitions lure her away from her rural home and, when she arrives in Reykjavík, her efforts are...Herculean. Yes, lots of mythology referred to here, and honestly it's only down to the fact that there isn't a better metaphor for what she is required to expend. Jón John, her gay BFF, preceded her to Reykjavík because if there's a worse thing to be in rural Iceland than a smart, ambitious, pretty woman, it's a queer man. They take up residence together while he does the kind of labor he can find, gets laid when someone's horny and their wife isn't willing, and ponders with her why they should be reduced to such crummy exigencies for getting mere crumbs of what they really want.

I was ready to give the book five stars until I got to the ending. What happened there, I fear, was me smacking my nose on the sad, true realization that Jón John's deeply ingrained homophobia will, in fact, be the death of him; and that Hekla, in accepting a very terrible and unfair life for herself, has resigned herself to the way the world is. Is this how the book should end? Yes, I can certainly see that it would make the most sense for it to end as it has. I still wanted, on an emotional level, to feel the striving I'd seen the characters enact pay off. I expected Surtsey to come roaring up faster than it did and give the characters new, hot, fire-powered land to live their new, hot, fire-powered lives on.
<blockquote>“Men are born poets. By the time of their confirmation, they’ve taken on the inescapable role of being geniuses. It doesn’t matter whether they write books or not. Women, on the other hand, grapple with puberty and have babies, which prevents them from being able to write.”</blockquote>
No, not for humans as fully, honestly drawn as these humans were, to be given a fairy-tale ending. They got reality. It felt like a cheat; it wasn't, of course, but it felt like one. I will say that the emotional core of the book is sadness and that was not the source of my half-star docking. It was the changes Jón John and Hekla made not amounting to an improvement of their lives. It could have; it seemed to me that, once the Faustian bargain of marriage was struck between them, they could've used that energy to propel themselves to happier endings. But the core of sadness was too powerful. The end of the story is, in this book, really and truly an end. Hekla's book being published? A major achievement! And it's all her ex-boyfriend Starkadur's because otherwise, without his man's name on it, the book won't *get* published. Miss Iceland was beautifully, poignantly sad all the way through. But when a story has one note, it's hard to maintain one's taste for that, and only that, note.
<blockquote>The skylight has misted up in the night, a white patina of snow has formed on the windowsill. I drape {Starkadur}'s sweater over me, move into the kitchen to get a cloth to wipe it up. A trail of sleet streams down the glass, I traced it with my finger. Apart from the squawk of seagulls, a desolate stillness reigns over Skolavordustigur.</blockquote>
Understand your journey, don't undertake it if you're not in the mood for exactly that journey. If you are, this will repay your attention with exquisitely lovely, painfully honest images and you'll be honestly unable to see for sad tears that won't quite fall.

I really couldn't get through this book. It was just so boring and pretentious. I got over halfway through the book and nothing had happened. Could not finish.

I sadly couldn’t get into this book. I really liked the sound of the premise but when I started reading It didn’t really grip me. I felt I couldn’t get a good feel of the characters which is rather important for me. That’s not to say that someone else won’t enjoy it. It sadly just isn’t the book for me.

Unfortunately, this one wasn’t for me. It was difficult to connect with, so I didn’t end up finishing. Thanks so much to NetGalley and the publisher for a free e-arc to read and review!

This ARC was provided by the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.


Overall I really tried to enjoy this book, while the book itself wasn’t a bad book I think it just wasn’t for me. The writing was beautiful and the story powerful but historical fiction during the 60’s isn’t for me. It was super interesting reading about the time period and how different things were for Hekla, as a main character she was strong and stood up for herself and how she felt, out of the norm for that time. I enjoyed the read, I just wasn’t blown away and struggled with reading this story.

Set in Iceland in the 60s, this is a tale for fans of feminism, literary history, and tales like Colette. Hekla, our protagonist, is named after a volcano. (How cool is that?) After leaving home to experience freedom and become a novelist, she moves in with her best friend, John Jon, a young queer man who welcomes her to Reykjavik with open arms, and similar hopes as Hekla - to be valued for their accomplishments rather than their gender or sexual orientation.

Of course, publishing in the 60s in Iceland wasn't exactly a dream cruise for women. Men seem more interested in seeing her in an upcoming beauty pageant, Miss Iceland, than they do reading her work. How can she be taken more seriously? Must she create a male pseydonym for herself? Would she be better off taking on Miss Iceland than Iceland's publishers? What must she give up in order to be successful in her work, and if she gives it up... will it be worth it?

Thank you to Netgalley and Grove Atlantic for advanced access to this title!

I really appreciate the opportunity from the publisher to read this book, but it was not for me. The writing is heavy-handed and the dialogue was noticeably choppy- not very realistic. I love Iceland and volcanoes, so I was excited to read this, but this book and I were not a good fit.

An absorbingly intimate portrait of a young woman in Iceland in the 1960s, caught in the conflict between her ambition and need to be a writer, and the restrictive gender roles imposed on her by society. Through her journey, from farming hometown to Reykjavik and its literary circles, to Rotterdam in search of freedom to come into her own as a writer, she's accompanied by her best friend, Jon John, a gay man who is similarly alienated by social oppression, and in frequent communication with her childhood friend Isey, who likewise feels the impulse to write but is half-smothered by her marriage, motherhood, and the bleakness of financal hardship.

Ólafsdóttir's prose, as translated by Brian FitzGibbon, is delicately sparse and shimmeringly restrained, like the deceptively still surface of a lake that runs much deeper than it appears from the outside. It's a tight, clean novel, and engrossing in its precise, slow sweep through Hekla's story.

Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for the review copy.

This book takes place in the 1960’s in Reykjavik,Iceland. Hekla, named after a volcano (interesting how they choose their names for their kids), has moved to Reykjavik to work and pursue her dream of writing. She meets a poet, who is as of yet unsuccessful. She does not tell him she is a writer as well. We are at a time where women’s place is in the kitchen, where she is subservient to her male partner, where his needs and wants should come above hers.
Hekla has a friend, Jon John, who is gay. Of course, that is another no no in the 1960’s. Another outsider, struggling with his desires and choices.

Isey, another of Hekla ‘s friends is married, having children and wishing she could have time to write. Through he we get the traditional, expected role of women at that time.

The author, and translator, have brought these 4 people completely to life in this short novel. This being the 1960’s, we of course deal with the issues of that time in Iceland- the expectations of women and the homophobia.
This is the first book I have read by an Icelandic writer and I very much enjoyed it.

Miss Iceland was a delightful romp of self-exploration, friendships, and literature. I highly enjoyed the setting of the novel, as well as the LGBTQ best friend and the author’s beautiful prose.

After missing out on reviewing Icelandic author Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir’s previous book, HOTEL SILENCE (which earned many plaudits among critics and my fellow book bloggers), I decided to try out the author’s newest book translated by Brian Fitzgibbon, MISS ICELAND (Ungfrú Ísland); what I read shows a unique sensibility – laugh out loud funny where the author skewers male chauvinism and male "poets" more concerned with the literary lifestyle than the art; and deeply moving in its depiction of 1960s Iceland and the stark choices faced by talented women writers like Hekla and her friend Ísey, who take separate paths over the course of the novel and make separate trade-offs; with another major element being Hekla's friendship with the closeted gay sailor Jón John; the whole was handled with such good humor and creativity that I want to go back and read the author’s first two books as well.

Full review here: https://wp.me/p8d1Up-1Ps

This is an interesting little book. The writing is outstanding.

In Iceland in the 1960s, Hekla moves to Reykjavik to live with her best friend and write a novel, while also trying to get published. Her best friend is struggling with the fact that he likes men despite the fact that society disapproves. Her other friend is struggling with being a new wife and mother. It's basically about trying to fit in with society and how they change and compromise in order to do so, even if their attempts aren't necessarily very successful.

I originally discovered this author in a bookstore in the Keflavík airport. The cover of Butterflies in November caught my eye. I am definitely looking forward to reading more of this author's books.

I really enjoyed this novel, an engrossing and unique writing style. Fabulous characters, you care about.

I felt somewhat frustrated by the ending. But I would recommend giving this one a read.

Perfect for book clubs as there are lots of talking points.

A huge thanks to Grove Press & NetGalley for gifting me a copy in return for an open & honest review.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Definitely the opposite of what I thought this book was going to be. I thought it was going to be a cheesy novel, it instead was a slow burn slice of life in 1960s Iceland. While overall, I liked the story, I felt that since I'm not Icelandic, it was harder for me to appreciate and understand all aspects of the story.

Thanks to Grove Atlantic and Net Galley for the advanced copy!

Miss Iceland follows Hekla as she tries to find her way as a writer in Reykjavik, Iceland. She faces quite a bit of , as this is set in the 1960's where the work force was not so progressive. You couldn't help but root for Hekla; you wanted her to succeed so badly, especially since she was taking such a risk by moving away from her small town in order to follow her dream. I loved how Audur wrote about Iceland, as my family is from there. Her descriptions of the country are beautiful. I would 100% recommend this to folks, especially those that want to learn more about Iceland. And I would definitely be interested in reading more from Audur Ava Olafsdottir!

When my husband and I toured Iceland in 2017, we were in a progressive country with a reputation for gender equality and for being one of the most LGBT-friendly countries in the world. It had already had a female president and a prime minister who was the world’s first openly lesbian head of government. This novel, however, takes the reader back to the early 1960s when Icelandic society was much more conservative.

Hekla is a young woman who aspires to be a writer. She leaves home for Reykjavík, but she encounters obstacles to the fulfillment of her dreams. The male-dominated community wants its women in beauty contests or in domestic roles.

Writing is Hekla’s obsession. When her friend Isey asks her whether she wants a boyfriend or to write books, Hekla answers, “In my dream world the most important things would be: a sheet of paper, fountain pen and a male body. When we’ve finished making love, he’s welcome to ask if he can refill the fountain pen with ink for me.” Later, she tells Isey, “’Writing. It’s my lifeline.’” Whereas male writers gather in cafes to discuss writing, she devotes every free moment to actually writing. She starts a relationship with Starkadur, one of these men, and for the longest time doesn’t share that she writes, knowing that he wouldn’t understand that a woman could have a passion for writing. His Christmas gift to her is a cookery book. When she does eventually reveal her secret, he acknowledges her devotion: “’If you’re not working, you’re writing. If you’re not writing, you’re reading. You’d drain your own veins if you ran out of ink.’” She persists even when she is told, “’The world isn’t the way you want it to be . . . You’re a woman. Come to terms with that.’”

Hekla is published but used a male pseudonym. When she sends a manuscript to a publisher, he comments, “’There’s certainly a daring and fearless element in the prose, to be honest I would have thought it had been written by a man . . .’” He declines to publish and makes pointed reference to having heard that she declined to compete for the Miss Iceland title.

Men, on the other hand, “’are born poets. By the time of their confirmation, they’ve taken on the inescapable role of being geniuses. It doesn’t matter whether they write books or not.’” There are some wonderful jabs at these men who think of themselves as poets. Starkadur who claims, “’there are so few female novelists in Iceland and they’re all bad,’” has a poem accepted for publication despite the fact that it has a “line that starts with ‘assuage the wound’ and ends with ‘crepuscular gasping of mantled hopes’.” He quits his job at a library because he wants an “environment for inspiration”! Hekla’s father writes that “It’s actually quite amazing how so many poets lack physical stamina. If they’re not blind like Homer, Milton and Borges, they’re lame and can’t do any sort of labour.”

Hekla’s only real friends in the city are also trapped by societal expectations. Isey dreams of being a writer too but finds herself as a housewife married to a barely literate man who is “good at sleeping through the children crying at night”; she resorts to writing in a diary but the busy life of housewife and mother leaves her with few options; she has an opportunity to read only if “the fishmonger packs the haddock in a poem or a serialized story.” Eventually she writes to Hekla that she has “packed away my wings.” Isey serves to show what Hekla’s life could be like if she gives up pursuing her goal.

Jon John is a gay man who wants to be a fashion designer but has to take jobs on ships where he is routinely humiliated and brutalized. He compares the treatment he receives to the oppression of blacks in the United States at the time. Jon John mentions that “’The Icelandic government negotiated a deal to make sure there would be no blacks at the [Keflavík Air] base.’” Iceland also wants no homosexuals. Jon John’s is a sad story: “Men only want to sleep with me when they’re drunk, they don’t want to talk afterwards and be friends. While they’re pulling on their trousers, they make you swear three times that you won’t tell anyone. They take you to the outskirts of Heidmörk and you’re lucky if they drive you back into town.’” Society sees him as a freak: “’They consider us the same as paedophiles. Mothers call in their children when a queer approaches. Queers’ homes are broken into and completely trashed. They’re spat on. If they have phones, they’re called in the middle of the night with death threats. . . . It’s so difficult not to be scared. . . . I wish I weren’t the way I am, but I can’t change that.’”

For anyone who has visited Reykjavík, reading this novel will undoubtedly bring back memories. I loved reading the street names in the city, streets like Laugavegur and Bankastræti down which we strolled. I was reminded of the Mál og Menning bookstore in which I browsed. Visitors to the city cannot escape noticing Hallgrímskirkja, and Hekla makes reference to its being built. Mention is made to historic events like the assassination of JFK, the awarding the Nobel Peace Prize to MLK, and the Beatles’ concert in Copenhagen; these will resonate with older readers.

The style of the book can best be described as sparse and restrained. It consists of short passages which resemble vignettes. These sometimes give an impression of disjointedness. Hekla is the narrator, but the first-person narration does not include any of her thoughts. Her voice is unemotional and often feels impersonal so it is difficult for the reader to connect with her.

The ending bothered me. It is very abrupt. The entire last section entitled “The Body of the Earth” left me wondering about exactly what happened. The flashback strikes me as strange, and the last letter left me questioning Hekla’s motives. Did she really make that request?

My only experience with Icelandic literature has been crime fiction from writers such as Arnaldur Indriðason, Ragnar Jónasson, and Yrsa Sigurðardóttir, so it is great to read another genre. Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir has apparently written other novels and the quality of Miss Iceland has me convinced that I should check them out as well.

Note: I received a digital galley from the publisher via NetGalley.