Katrín Níelsdóttir, Winnipeg, MB
Some people arrive at Icelandic culture by birth. Others, by inheritance. And then there are those like James Hargrove, who seem to arrive by story.
Hargrove’s path to Icelandic literature did not begin in a saga, but in a laboratory. A retired biological scientist from the University of Georgia, his early career was grounded in nutrition research, computer modelling, and what he calls “anything that grows in Georgia – peanuts, pecans, muscadine grapes.” But even then, another thread was quietly forming.
“I got into historical research,” he recalls, tracing one of his projects back to the origins of the nutritional calorie – an obscure detail that eventually led him into French archives from 1819. “That’s when things started to shift.”