2002-04-22 12:10

Bewildering Betrothals

Bewildering Betrothals

Aftonbladet had a poll recently with the question:

Ska prinsessan Victoria f� gifta sig med vem som helst?
(Should Princess Victoria be allowed to marry whom she wants?)

Certainly not, I say. Suppose she wanted to marry me? I don't particularly want to marry her and I don't see why I should. Also I don't think she should be allowed to marry her father, her favourite horse, or the concept of chocolate ice-cream.

But much more bewilderingly, when I was over at Morgunbla�i� getting my Dilbert fix last Friday, they had a questionnaire of their own:

� Karl Breraprins a� giftast Camillu Parker Bowles?

which I take to mean "Should Prince Charles marry Camilla Parker-Bowles".

You can see the results here. The yes and no answers are pretty obvious, the third option ("G�ti ekki veri� meira sama") somewhat less so. I'm going with "I don't care," as a guess.

Isn't that marvellous? It just goes to show that being a republic is no guarantee of good sense. While I wouldn't for a moment want to offend Iceland or its inhabitants, and while I wouldn't argue for a nano-moment that such a poll demeans the dignity of the British royal family (nor would I mind if it did) I do wonder just a little bit what influence they expect the results to have.

Personally, I would find it entirely appropriate and in keeping with the dignity of the institution of monarchy if the future marital status of the heir to the British throne were to be determined by a plebiscite of the Icelandic people, but I'm not holding my breath while I wait.

And also...

I think that I shall finally have to succumb. I am now officially learning Icelandic so that when the time comes I can lend Desbladet's fabled blend of eloquence and irrefutable logic to the G�ti ekki veri� meira sama! campaign.

Accordingly, I've got hold of P.J.T. Glendening's almost universally despised Teach Yourself Icelandic, and it's easy to see what people are complaining about. The dry-as-dust tabulation of grammar that is relatively easy to smilingly indulge in McClean's Swedish becomes a whole load more serious when there are five consecutive pages of verb conjugations presented with the remark "it is important to know these".

It seems churlish to complain, though, when you bear in mind that Glendening lived in a world where (from his introduction):

You cannot hear Icelandic radio programmes, and you seldom meet Icelanders, so the printed page must needs be the main medium of instruction.

Of course, I can listen to an extensive choice of Icelandic radio stations, and there's at least one Icelandic student just in my department.

And, of course, there are better books, too, but that would feel like cheating.