This book is about Icelandic sagas and horses. The author tells how she first became interested in studying the sagas during university years, and took her husband to Iceland to rent out a summerhouse one year, where they would find solitude to work and write. She fell in love with the land, and its distinctive horses. I didn’t know how remarkably difference Icelandic horses are from other breeds. Also very different is how they are raised and trained, and the attitude of people towards them in Iceland. After visiting several times the author, a moderately experienced rider, decided she wanted to buy two Icelandic horses to take home to America. She returned alone specifically for this purpose. Which was made difficult by the fact that after some fifteen years spent studying the language, her conversational skills were still very basic. Her riding skills were above beginner level- but she wasn’t at all trained how to handle an Icelandic horse. She traveled around and rode many different horses to try them out, but couldn’t find one that she really connected with. And in spite of constantly repeating the phrase popular in Iceland that color doesn’t matter (a horse’s personality, willingness, smoothness of gait, etc being far more important in defining its quality) she kept being drawn to horses that had an attractive appearance (but other serious flaws that revealed upon handling). Then there was the tricky social aspect- her host expected her to purchase the mare he recommended (being known as a fine judge of horses) and was offended when she kept looking around. It was all very interesting to read about. The first half of the book was a bit less intriguing for me- having lots of asides about the language, and retelling bits of sagas that related to what the author was experiencing or thinking about. I liked it much better the further she got into testing out the horses, learning about what defined the Icelandic horse, trying to improve her skills in riding them, and so on. More about this was much to my liking. A great book. ( )

Amazing the books I run across. This was a delightful find, extremely well written with evocative images and pithy, humor-laden sentences: "My Icelandic was too rudimentary for that. It's a difficult language with an excess of grammar." and "The weather was classic Icelandic: forty degrees and raining sideways." There's also an amusing scene where dual meanings of the Icelandic word for ride can be endowed with sexual connotations. Shades of me growing up and confusing scatology with eschatology.

The author, who at the time was teaching at Penn State, and her husband rented a small summer home (really more of a shack) with no electricity or plumbing on the assumption it would be a good place to escape distractions and to write. Not your customary summer home. It was separated from their car, parked at the end of a cow lane, by some kind of estuary. If the tide was in, an hour was required to walk around to get to their car. If not, and a prominent rock was visible, and, to quote their son, they avoided the "sucking mud", they might reach the car in twenty minutes.

Brown had studied medieval literature (Beowulf in the original Old English drove me crazy in college) and had a professor who communicated his love of Icelandic myths. That pushed her in the direction of studying Icelandic sagas and the book is filled with links to an old Icelandic tale to illustrate a point she is making. Iceland has an interesting history and given its long winter nights and plenty of lambskin to write on, evolved a strong story telling/writing culture, proud of its independent, kingless, society, especially before the Norwegians took over in 1262. They wrote their sagas in the vernacular prose, unlike Europe where verse dominated.

Brown is also somewhat of a horsewoman and was intrigued by the Icelandic horse, a breed carefully isolated from any possibility of being sullied from outside influence. The breed has an interesting mutation that permits five gaits (tolt and pace being the extra two) as opposed to the "normal" three gaits. (Her website has an interesting explanation for the chromosomal differences and whether three or five should be considered normal. (http://nancymariebrown.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-pace-gene.html?showComment=1351467939599#c7564118958242638698) Most of the book describes her quest to bring home a couple of these unusual horses. The differences in riding style and requirements between what we consider to be "normal" American riding and Icelandic traditions and training were fascinating.

It's a difficult book to classify, part travelogue, part essay, part history, part memoir; but who cares. My only complaint is that you'll want to climb on the next Icelandic Air to check out Iceland and its horses. A great read, especially if you love horses. Except maybe for the part where she discusses why Icelanders eat their horses and why we don't. As with so many things, it has to do with religion (Pope Gregory III) and Norse sagas. ( )

This is Brown's first book, and it is a creative and compelling mix of Icelandic history, literature, and culture, horsemanship, and well drawn descriptions of people. It kept my interest in the same way that a fast-paced mystery does, but in this case the fast pace was horsey, and the mystery was: will Nancy find the perfect horse? If so, which one will be right for her, and why? She keeps up the suspense until the very end of the book.

What seems a fairly simple matter--shopping for a horse, or two--becomes increasingly complex the more that Nancy, and the reader, learn about horses in general, and the Icelandics in particular. All of the human interactions (with horse breeders, trekkers, friends) make the decision of which horse to purchase, whose advice to take, even more complex and interesting.

The book focuses on a span of 2-3 years, although Nancy's other trips to Iceland over the course of 12 years or so are touched on. Nancy Marie Brown, and her huband, Charles Fergus, spent a summer with their son at Litla Hruan (Little Lava), where this book was born. Her husband wrote a book (Summer at Little Lava) at the same time in the same place, with a very different focus. It is fascinating to read a book that touches on many similar things from another point of view.

Nancy spends much of her time at the Snorrastadir horse farm, where my family stayed a night, and where we went on an epic horseback ride involving trolls. It was fun to return to Snorrastadir and stay for a longer, more intimate visit, seeing the farm and the occupants through Nancy's eyes.

I wish I had read this book before I rode Icelandic horses, because I learned a great deal from Nancy's experiences (and mistakes!) and from her intense research, and would have appreciated the experience even more. I really like the way that Nancy is successful at interweaving the different strands of her tale...she is passionate and knowledgeable about the Sagas, and recounts many saga tales that pertain to places she visits or horses she meets.

This book really has wide appeal, and I expect to enjoy her next book even more. Nancy now has four Icelandic horses, and in addition to writing helps edit the Icelandic Horse Quarterly. ( )