I recently picked up a book that I saw reviewed in Klassekampen titled Eg Rissa desse Runene (I Carved These Runes), a new collection of short stories set in the early middle ages around Bergen. The stories in the book, written by Aina Basso, take as their jumping off point the often cryptic sentences of rune carvings on pieces of wood, branches and sticks found under the world-famous Bryggen—the docks at Bergen.
The title of the book comes from the formula that often begins such inscriptions, [Name] carved these runes… Here is an example of these rune inscriptions from Bryggen Museum:

As with my last update from April (sorry I have been so poor at sending out newsletters!) when I was in Greece, you’ll notice a bit of a pattern with me that I am especially interested in all kinds of mark-making, from runic inscription and other early forms of writing like ogham or the stelle in the museums of Athens.
I think this is because I am fascinated by the urge to write, by the obvious need to communicate in a way that is both lasting, but ultimately also ephemeral. Carving runes on wood especially seems to hover between the permanent and ephemeral: a softer material than stone, it might easily disappear or as in the happy circumstances around Bryggen, survive almost a millenium, to send us messages that appear equal parts cryptic and banal. In writing back from these inscriptions, Aina Basso has done a great service in helping us to imagine the circumstances in which someone might feel the need to make a declaration that they can hardly have imagined would be as long lasting as it was.
I have also been thinking about mark-making and inscription not least because I am also currently embarking on a long reading project: reading Robert Alter’s translation into English of the Hebrew Bible. So far I am making slow, but steady progress, having read the first three books of the Fives Books of Moses. One of the real delights of Alter’s translation, which renders the Hebrew into sometimes striking English, is the accompanying commentary (as well as introductions to each individual book).
In Exodus Chapter 20, when Moses is on Mount Sinai and receives from God what we call the Ten Commandments, Alter notes in his commentary the following:
The formulation of the ten injunctions is, in the most literal sense, lapidary—terse enough to be carved in stone. There is a good deal of plausability then, in the inference of some scholars that the wordier commandments here embody explanatory glosses on or elaborations of the original succinct formulations.
Alter quotes Moshe Weinfeld’s terse English conception of these injunctions before noting that
The Hebrew, it should be said, is even more compact: commandments 6, 7, and 8, for example, are each only two words, three syllables. Other ancient Near Eastern cultures customarily used tablets—as a rule, clay and not stone—for writing, whereas the Hebrews adopted the speedier and more efficient writing technology of ink on parchment or papyrus scrolls, which made detailed verbal elaboration easier.
He notes that “The Hebrews did, however, use stone tablets for monumental inscriptions, as a few recovered fragments indicate. The use of stone tablets… is most probably dictated by the fact that these Ten Words amount to the text of a pact between God and Israel, and such covenantal texts were typically recorded on tablets of metal or stone.”
I have been keeping busy in the past few months enjoying the summer, and continuing to do events related to Pacemaker. In May, I had the pleasure of doing an event at Curious Fox Books in Berlin with Roisin Kiberd, supported by Culture Ireland. Then in July I had the fabulous experience of being at the West Cork Literary Festival where I was interviewed by Sasha de Buyl in front of a great crowd at Bantry Library. Since then, Pacemaker has turned one year old, and I am delighted to see it is still finding its way to new people.
Most recently, I was one of eight Irish writers to be featured in Literature Ireland’s Blúiríní series of short videos. Here’s my own:
I was also really happy to have a very wide-ranging chat with Derek Wheatley on his Wheatley the Weekly Podcast last week, which you can listen to here and anywhere else you get your podcasts.
The thing that has been most striking throughout the whole year since Pacemaker has come out is the number of people who have come to talk to me either after events or after getting the book who themselves have or are family of someone living with a congenital heart condition. It has been great to expand the community of people I know with congenital heart conditions. As the numbers of people born with a congenital heart conditions surviving into adulthood continues to grow (we now outstrip children with congenital heart conditions as more of us live longer), I can only hope that more and more will use writing and other artistic forms to explore a life lived with these conditions.
Have you been to the Nordic Bible & book museum in Oslo? (I haven’t!)
I love the Bryggen inscriptions. This one stuck in my head https://skaldic.org/db.php?id=15084&if=runic&table=mss -- we still say "fud" for "fuð" in Glasgow!