by Edith Cody-Rice
The title of Eliza Reid’s new memoir, The First Lady Next Door, skilfully captures the flavour of her attitude and of her experience as First Lady of Iceland. A hometown (raised in Ottawa and Ashton) and real girl next door for us, in Iceland, where everyone goes by first names, even the president and his family are really neighbours, if not relatives, to many of its citizens. Icelandic relationships are so interconnected that there is even an Icelandic register Íslendingabók which citizens can consult to determine to whom they are related and in what degree and an app you can consult to determine if a person you are planning to sleep with is too closely related.
Eliza Reid is young to be writing a memoir, but then, so much has happened to her or rather, she has happened to it, in her life so far. She exudes a solid self confidence, instilled in her in childhood. As she relates, her mother was a great story teller with tales about her family “ and there was often a moral or a message in her stories. At the very minimum, a chance to make light of ourselves, to learn not to take ourselves too seriously and to accept our imperfections… my mother taught my brothers and me that we had a place in the world, that our actions mattered, that we belonged. Storytelling was a toolkit for managing life, ….”
And certainly, Eliza has used it that way for she is a talented story teller. She recounts how, as a child, she was a self described rule follower and super planner, even planning her walk to elementary school so that she wouldn’t be late and organizing her books alphabetically by author and labelling them so that she could build a lending library (her brothers were her only clients). That meticulous organising habit followed her into adulthood where she says her detailed plans afforded her security in unfamiliar circumstances. Clearly, she was bright. Before the age of 10, she played bridge and followed politics closely. And her interest in public speaking and drama lessons at the Ottawa Little Theatre would come in handy in later life. That brightness and application took her to the University of Toronto and to Oxford where she met her Icelandic husband Guðni Thorlacius Jóhannesson.
And now we get to the meat of the matter. If I had to summarize Eliza’s life experience from then on, I could think of no better expression than the chorus of the Afram Stelpur that she quotes at the beginning of this memoir. The Afram Stelpur is the anthem of the 1975 Women’s Day Off in Iceland when 90% of women took the day off from their responsibilities to protest gender inequality and the lack of equal pay. That day marked a significant occasion in Iceland’s history as it kick started the country’s journey to become the most gender neutral country in the world. The chorus chants
But dare I, will I, can I?
Yes, I dare, I can I will
(The full lyrics of this inspiring song, translated to English are at the conclusion of this review.)
As a foreigner who did not speak Icelandic and without connections, other than her husband, Eliza faced a huge challenge when she married Guðni and moved to Iceland in 2004. Undaunted, she found a writing job, learned Icelandic and came to appreciate, in fact, love her adopted homeland. The couple had their struggles, particularly financial, after the 2008 financial crisis when the three largest Icelandic banks failed, but they did manage to produce four children in six years amid the chaos of the financial meltdown.
Eliza has a daunting sense of adventure. As a journalist in English in Iceland, she pitched writing assignments to the Icelandic press. One commission took her to West Africa where, unexpectedly detoured from her original destination on a bus ride, she descended in a strange town at 1 am and accepted a drive through Togo in an unmarked taxi with two men who promised to take her to her hotel which they told her was fifteen kilometers away. Luckily, it was, and they did. Later, as First Lady of Iceland, she used a sheep jawbone to dip into its cooked brains in Oman. I think this is the daring bit, indicative of her approach to life in general.
It was in 2016 that her life became a public one. Unexpectedly, Guðni ran for and won the presidency of Iceland, making her first lady, a national and later, an international figure. But the first lady did not have an official position and the expectation was that she would adopt a traditional spousal support role.
Eliza was determined to make her position meaningful, recognizing the privilege and opportunity it afforded her. Gradually she carved out her own space, making adjustments that allowed her to be “seen”, accepting invitations addressed to her alone and writing and speaking about a variety of issues, particularly gender equality which she has adopted as her signature interest. Nowhere is there a better stage from which to launch this advocacy than from gender equal Iceland although, as she discovered, there is still much work to do, even there.
Eliza’s position as first lady of a country of just under 400,000 souls did not come with a clothes allowance. After a limited foray into high end clothes that she had to pay for herself, she hit upon the idea of shopping at thrift shops. She made this public, expecting to be criticized, but the public admired her for it – you know – reduce, reuse, recycle.
And then there is the 2019 New York Times op ed that thrust her into the international public eye. In it she opined that she was not her husband’s handbag, “to be snatched as he runs out the door and displayed silently by his side during public appearances”. Again, she braced for criticism but she was widely praised, not least by other spouses in a similar position. She also noticed a shift in attitude when she was asked, when she attended events, whether she wanted to be introduced as first lady, or perhaps as entrepreneur or writer. She had moved out of the shadow of the president.
Eliza’s style is conversational, even intimate and her marvellous sense of humour shines through her writing. She is very good at witty asides that connect directly with her audience, like her confession that when the queen of Sweden complimented her on her faux fur scarf, she had to use heroic self restraint to prevent herself from revealing that she had bought it on sale at a local supermarket. She attributes that impulse to the Canadian tendency to downplay luxury looks and play up savvy spending.
In short, Eliza not only dares, she shows she can and she does, seeking out opportunities, pushing the envelope and opening doors for herself and others. This is a witty and fascinating book. Eliza said of her memoir that “This book is for everyone who has ever found themselves in a situation they never anticipated, whether or not you are married to a head of state. It’s a book for everyone who wants to believe in fairy tales but lacks the requisite fashion sense. It will inspire you to harness the discomfort of a rule-free environment to push your own limits.”
It clearly inspires.
Women’s strike island protest song – 24 October, 2975
Forward, Girls: Freedom Is in Sight
This is the anthem of the women’s strike days in Iceland.
Forward, Girls: Freedom Is in Sight
Lyrics: Dagný Kristjánsdóttir & Kristján Jónsson
Freedom now is in our sight,
long denied, withheld too long.
Women gather, stand united,
bearing symbols of the fight.
Now the moment has arrived.
Let us join our hands as one
and hold firmly to our cause,
though some wish to turn us back
and others choose to stand still—
we will never side with that.
But do I dare, do I want, can I?
Yes, I dare, I want, I can.
But do I dare, do I want, can I?
Yes, I dare, I want, I can.
And later children will say:
“Look, my mother cleared the way.”
Yes, later children will say:
“This is exactly the world I want.”
Yes, I dare, I want, I can.
But do I dare, do I want, can I?
Yes, I dare, I want, I can.
Forward, girls, rise to your feet,
tear apart old, binding roots—
a thousand years of women’s chains.
When the individual acts,
our numbers turn into strength,
and we bring about countless changes.
Votes we hold in overflowing hands,
we will set politics right,
build equality and solidarity.
Forward, girls, here is my hand,
let us tie our friendships tight,
no more dancing half-afraid.
Let us build a new world together,
by strong women, in every land,
leaving not a single weak link.
Our children inherit all we’ve learned—
we show through our unity
the power of collective strength.
Girls, look back just for a moment
at all that women have endured,
look back in rage over your shoulder.
If you carry struggle behind you,
lift your head and speak out loud,
let all doubt dissolve—so much is won.
Yet so much still lacks an answer:
Why is real equality still so small?
When will all people be counted equal,
doing the same work, earning the same pay?
Freedom now is in our sight,
long denied, withheld too long.
Women gather, stand united,
bearing symbols of the fight.
Now the moment has arrived.
Let us join our hands as one
and hold firmly to our cause,
though some wish to turn us back
and others choose to stand still—
we will never side with that.
But do I dare, do I want, can I?
Yes, I dare, I want, I can.
But do I dare, do I want, can I?
Yes, I dare, I want, I can.
The First Lady Next Door is published by Simon & Shuster Canada
Available at Mill Street Books in Almonte
Eliza Reid will appear at the Almonte Public Library Friday April 24 6:30-8:30 pm
