Literature

«I'm a Viking», a feel-good 2020 legend

4 reading minutes

written by Amélie Wauthier · July 28, 2020 · 0 comment

«I Am a Viking,» a feel-good 2020 classic

Tuesday's books - Amélie Wauthier

A few months ago, I was wandering between the stacks of books at Payot, looking for a book for my next review. Something short, quick to read, because at this time of year, I didn't have a ton of free time on my hands either. And then, that's when I saw it, with its not necessarily beautiful cover, but that word that hits the nail on the head nine times out of ten. «Je suis une Viking» and its 440 pages grabbed my attention and haven't let go since: I'd found my reading for my next summer vacation!

Zelda is twenty-one years old, has a boyfriend named Marxy, and friends she meets up with several times a week at the community center. She’s fascinated by the Vikings and their legends. During her pregnancy, Zelda’s mother drank. As a result, even though it isn’t immediately obvious, Zelda is a young woman who is different from others. Since they no longer have parents, Zelda lives with Gert, her older brother, whose shaved head and tattoos scare some people. Together with Kalash—Gert’s ex-girlfriend and Zelda’s best friend—the three of them form a tribe and set out on adventures worthy of the greatest Viking legends.

«For my birthday, Marxy had already given me a present: a drawing he’d made of the two of us as Vikings. Marxy wasn’t very good at drawing hands, feet, and faces. On the other hand, I thought he was really good at drawing how much we were in love. And swords, too. In that drawing he gave me for my birthday, our swords looked enormous and magnificent.»

Zelda’s disability makes her a young woman who doesn’t mince words and gives the first-person narrative an offbeat tone tinged with humor. From the very first pages, we meet an unconventional and passionate heroine whose bravery and courage push her to surpass herself, inspiring those around her along the way. She fights every day against the a priori and to challenge stereotypes, but also to defend her loved ones, whom she cares about above all else. Zelda is heroic because she doesn’t lie or cheat. She acts according to the rules she herself helped establish—the rules that make a Viking a true, legendary, and strong hero. Yet she doesn’t hesitate to adapt when the situation calls for it and to follow her heart.

The 440 pages of this book are full of life and authenticity; it’s hard not to grow attached to the characters. The plot is relatively ordinary for an adventure novel—a good guy who goes on business by teaming up with villains to get out of a bad situation—and then it’s a downward spiral—but we find ourselves captivated nonetheless by the story’s simplicity and tenderness. The narrative invites us to become aware of various forms of inequality and discrimination, whether physical, intellectual, or social. All of this is presented without judgment, because that’s just how Zelda is—very matter-of-fact and honest. Without shying away from sensitive topics, the author addresses the sexuality of people with disabilities, their independence, and domestic and social violence, while also shedding light on fetal alcohol syndrome.

And then, when I read the name Zelda, I immediately thought of The Legend of Zelda. The gamers and other fans will immediately recognize this reference to the famous video game. The hero, Link, armed with his sword and shield, sets out valiantly to fight the villain and thus free the kingdom of Hyrule and Princess Zelda. Who, like any princess who’s a bit clumsy at times, needs to be rescued. The Zelda that Andrew David MacDonald presents to us in this debut novel—which I highly recommend—has absolutely no need to be rescued here; quite the opposite, in fact. Just like that very powerful Viking hero whom science has revealed to actually be a woman, Zelda shows us that by transcending beliefs and preconceived notions, every person is capable of writing their own legend.

I’d never done this before—read the acknowledgments, even when they’re only two lines long. I must have really liked this book to read Andrew David MacDonald’s acknowledgments, especially since they’re almost two pages long. In the last paragraph, there are links about fetal alcohol syndrome for anyone who wants to learn more, make a donation, or get involved: http://saffrance.com , http://vivreaveclesaf.fr. For my part, I strongly encourage you to head to your nearest bookstore and pick up a great read right away for your next vacation—whether it’s in the summer or not.

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