Under the Glacier by Halldór Laxness

Pastor Jón Prímus called away "on official duties" somewhere up-country this afternoon. Evening. Your emissary has spent a few hours on the preparation of his report: organised his notes, marked up the tapes, jotted down some comments and explanations. As things stand, your emissary sees little advantage to be gained from prolonging his stay here. A draft description of the church and churchyard is attached. The condition of the parsonage, preservation of church property, and so on are matters that smack of the absurd in this place. For instance, the livestock here consists of nothing but the housekeeper's calf. Food in any real sense of the term is not served in this home; in fact there is no home to speak of, either. The parish pastor makes his living as a jack-of-all-trades for the district.

To recapitulate further: Christian observance. As far as the undersigned can see, Christian observance is at a minimum in the district. In addition to the state of the church, there is the testimony of the parish clerk, Tumi Jónsen of Brún, albeit given with sympathy and complete loyalty towards pastor Jón; furthermore, there is the interview with the clergyman himself, both on marked spools. From this documentary evidence it will be clear that clerical duties are hardly performed at all in the parish unless ministers from outside are called in. Burials neglected. No services at Christmas, etc.