While working through Krossvatn, the short story by Heðin Brú, I decided to hunt for the lake itself, wading through dozens of maps for weeks, carefully feeling around for it. Such a small lake or pond would be difficult to come by -- who knows how small it could be! Maybe it was completely drained and no longer exists. That it existed during Heðin Brú's time I was certain, as his writings are set in specific locales. But that his writings are set all over the Faroe's opened the search to the entirety of the Faroe Islands. Krossvatn could literally be anywhere or nowhere at all. I was also concerned, of course, with whether the lake would exist somewhere on Sandoy or Suðuroy, having no detailed maps of either. My larger scale map (1:100,000) doesn't show any 'Krossvatn's' on either island, but Suðuroy is up to their knees in lakes unnamed on this map, especially north of Porkeri. And so I considered whether my search would be fruitless until, at least, I acquired the more detailed map sets.
I continued on however, but eventually stopped the random search somewhere on Eysturoy, near Toftir. I began to think about what I was looking for and sought instead to determine the origin of its name for possible clues to its whereabouts.
Does 'Kross' refer to its shape or religious significance? Was I looking for a cross-shaped pond? To find features that resemble things, hike over the 'cold cheek' (Køldukinn), or scale 'the witches finger', a pinnacle of rock known as Trollkonufingur. Other places are named for what they are... that 'white cliff' is called Hvítilklettur, and Brekkendin is 'the final slope', while Hamurendin is 'the end of the stretch of cliff' and á Stigum is 'the step'. More often, however, places are named because of their proximity to something -- features such as a cove or bay (vík), hills (brekk) and dales (dalur). Klaksvík is 'cliff-cove', Kirjka is 'church', and Dalur is 'dale'.
Krossvatn could be cross-shaped, but it seems likely that it would be named because of its proximity to something of religious significance. There are many sites in Faroe that have a religious significance, however, the significance for most rests in the minds of the people nearest them. Churches, for instance, were built in many bygd -- not all -- but typically one bygd in a few would have a church, even if it meant villagers would have to walk over the hills and mountains to get to it. If this was so, then Krossvatn could still be anywhere in the Faroes. But why would a lake have a Christian meaning and be just anywhere? If it was to have religious significance, it should be close to somewhere of great importance. There are a few notable places in the Faroes that have a great religious significance too, but none will likely compare to that of Kirkjubøur on the south-east coast of Streymoy.
Stare at a map containing the entirety of the Faroe Islands and place your finger in what you believe is that centre. If you are like me and considered that the centre of the islands must be on land, you probably placed your finger somewhere near Torshavn, likely south of it at Kirkjubøur. On my wall hangs a large Faroese topographic map. We had it framed just over a month ago and it has been a source of inspiration ever since. When looking at the map, drifting into day-dreams, my eyes could not help but to stare directly at it -- Krossvatn, that is. Yes -- there it is! And it is there, somewhere near the centre, north of Kirkjubøur, lying some 325 metres above sea, directly between Kirkjubøur and Kirkjubøreyn, the hill that dominates the view when looking south-west from Torshavn.
For now though, I am uncertain about the religious significance of Krossvatn. Yet having only translated some of Heðin Brú's story, I feel he is working towards something of the divine. He talks about the lake stirring with all of life -- the Faroese Genesis, origins of the world, naval of the Earth, where everything begins and returns in the end. Kirkjubøur* was the Faroese seat of the Norwegian Catholic Church in the Middle Ages, the cultural centre and the Faroe Islander's connection to a distant world. Through time, however, the centre of the Faroes moved across Kirkjubøreyn to Torshavn. It's possible that the lake was named because it was near to such a well-trodden path between the two centres of the Islands. A pilgrimage from Torshavn to Kirkjubøur, however, would not have come across this lake, as it sits too high above the plain of sight to be seen from the path, though hillwalkers climbing to Kirkjubøreyn would easily spot it.
It's hard to tell at this point whether Krossvatn has some relation to Kirjkubøur. We'll have to work through the story some more and see if there are any other clues. For now we are allowed the pleasure of wonder.
*I could not give Kirkjubøur enough justice without talking at length about it, so I'll refrain from further comment in this post, but readers who are interested should visit the post office in Torshavn and pick up a copy of 'The Cathedral and other Historic Relics at Kirkjubøur'
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