In August 2006, during a conference in Åbo, Finland, British researcher Claire Thomson gave a talk about quite an odd little book that centers on landscape, nation, and memory.
Entitled Kærlighed til fædrelandet var drivkraften (Love for the Fatherland was Driving Force), the book consists of personal narratives from Jeppe Brixvold, Lars Frost, Pablo Henrik Llambías and Lars Skinnerbach as they go in search of Denmark in the flat, empty landscape of the peninsula that spawned countless classics of literary romanticism.
Eighteen months later, I finally got a hold of the book myself and have added it to my reading list. There's something oddly compelling about this strange tale of four contemporary authors hiking haplesslessly through the Jutlandic heath, in search of the spirit of Steen St. Blicher — and of Denmark. As Brixvold notes,
Through this national landscape wander the ghosts of outsiders: kartoffeltysker, gypsies and Travellers who once populated Blicher’s stories, but who have disappeared or been assimilated.
Brixvold’s discussion of "darkness" explicitly links the fear of the unknown or foreign in Blicher’s romantic/realist stories with today’s debates about immigration and assimilation. Was the return of Brixvold, Llambías, Frost and Skinnebach to Blicher’s storied heath an attempt to exorcise these ghosts? Or was it an attempt to salvage a kind of communal solidarity neccesary for the continued existance of the welfare state? Can any of these four authors escape the shadow of Blicher and Grundtvig when writing about their country, or is the weight of 19th-century thought about the nation overwhelming even in this, the 21st century?