Author: Katrín Níelsdóttir
Gerry Stefanson calls himself “The Wordbutcher,” but his relationship with language is more
inventive than destructive. He takes words apart, listens to their sounds and puts them back
together in unexpected ways. When the word he needs does not exist, he may simply create it.
“I just like playing with words,” he says.
Born and raised in Selkirk, Manitoba, Stefanson comes from Icelandic families on both sides. His Stefanson and Walterson relatives were connected to the fishing and dredging industries, and he grew up around the docks, fish sheds, and boats of the Red River and Lake Winnipeg. Icelandic was spoken by adults around him, although, as in many immigrant families, the children were encouraged to become more fully Canadian.
Family stories remain central to his writing. Stefanson remembers colourful relatives, including a fisherman grandfather nicknamed “Steve Riley” because he was said to possess the luck of the Irish. He also remembers storytellers such as his Uncle Johnny and, especially, his father, who carried a detailed knowledge of both sides of the family.