We had a chat with Stina Jackson, one of six authors from northern Sweden whose literary world we love, and have delved into to find a passage that both echoes her body of work and captures something quintessentially Norrland. When we call Stina, she’s just gotten back from her morning walk with the dog around the block on the Upper West Side of New York. It’s been many years since she left Västerbotten and Sweden for a life of writing in the U.S., but as the saying goes - you can take the Northerner out of Norrland, but never Norrland out of the Northerner.
Hi Stina! Let's start with what this is actually about - Glasses. What's your relationship to glasses?
It was when I was about to get my driver’s license - which was quite a while ago now - that I realized my vision wasn’t perfect. I could hardly see in the dark, which is... not ideal when driving. I remember the optometrist asking if I read a lot, which apparently can cause something called “false myopia.” And I really had. A lot. Since then, I’ve proudly worn my frames. I’ve always chosen glasses over contacts, they're such a stylish accessory!
The word we've chosen for your frame is "Light". What does light mean to you?
Without exaggeration, light might be my single greatest source of inspiration. I just finished writing a short story about the summer of 1994, and it really took me back to those luminous, strange, blue-tinged summer nights in Norrland. But light is fascinating everywhere. I love the light in New York, where I live now - how it never really gets completely dark. And it’s extra special that “light”, the word featured on the frame, is also the very first word in my very first novel.
Why do you think Norrland has produced so many successful authors?
Historically, I think it has a lot to do with the climate. There have always been long, dark evenings where people would sit together and tell stories, and I think that was a natural gateway into writing. I remember how much I loved listening to the gammfolk (the “old folks,” as we said) when I was little. They were such amazing storytellers, spinning tales from their lives and surroundings. And of course, the landscape helps too. There’s so much atmosphere in the forests and along the coast. There’s a kind of raw power there.
How do you feel about Västerbotten today?
I’m deeply shaped by the mindset that you shouldn't get too full of yourself, shouldn’t think you’re someone special. In that way, I don’t think I could’ve written what I’ve written if I’d stayed in Skellefteå. I wouldn’t have dared. So it’s actually a relief not to live there anymore, it gives me enormous freedom. But at the same time, today I feel an overwhelming pride in being from Västerbotten. As a teenager, I was a bit embarrassed and would almost change my accent when I went to Stockholm. Now it’s the opposite, I feel immense pride in being from Norrland, Västerbotten, and Skellefteå.
