Salka Valka by Halldor Laxness

The schoolroom benches were filled with people. The residents of a small fishing village gratefully welcome all meetings that charge no entrance fee. Of course, many people were away during the summer, especially young men; some worked on road crews, some strung telephone lines, while others went to different villages where there was more summer work. It was mainly older men here in the summer, sitting at home chewing their tobacco if they had any, although there were always a fair number of young men around, waiting for the herring. Some of those gathered now had taken generous swigs of spirits, as is customary at all secular meetings in fishing villages. Many people feel that a meeting is no real meeting without a drink first. Numerous women attended, tired-looking, their faces browned by the sun, and their hands in bad shape from the brine - although they all had their own accounts with Bogesen, and therefore knew more than a little about wages. Most of the younger women had dressed up for the meeting; some perhaps hoping that there would be dancing afterward- because a meeting with no dancing afterward cannot really be called a meeting. Furthermore, a large number of young people showed up, already considering themselves Bolshies. Beinteinn of Krókur was the assembly's "favorite son," dark-skinned, with disheveled gray hair and deep lines on his cheeks; he was not an unintelligent-looking man, although there was something rather manic in his gaze, he being hysterical, according to a statement made by the Company. Attendees cleared their throats robustly in various directions according to Icelandic custom, as if preparing to spit in each others' faces, but spoke little to each other. Some, however, kept making sarcastic comments, as folk do in fishing villages, and scratching themselves as they did. A few boys were playing "tag," slipping between the legs of the esteemed voters despite having been strictly forbidden to engage in any such shenanigans here. From the road outside came the sound of hoofbeats, and those who looked out the windows saw the back of Angantà 1/2 r Bogesen, riding with an extra horse toward the valley to refresh himself in the mild, pleasant evening air. A polite man from the fishermen's union stood and yielded his seat to Salka Valka.

Finally, Beinteinn of Krókur thought the time had come to welcome the esteemed attendees, which he did surprisingly temperately, in the style of the chair of a parliamentary debate. But he wasn't one of those persons given to long introductions, and he soon turned to the matter at hand.