Iceland is preparing to decide its European future in a referendum that could reopen a debate shelved for more than a decade. On August 29, Icelanders will be called to the polls to vote on whether they want the government to resume accession negotiations with the European Union or not. The Nordic country had already applied for membership in 2009, in the midst of the financial crisis, but four years later, with the economy recovered and a change of government, it withdrew from the talks.The center-left government of Prime Minister Kristrún Frostadóttir, at the beginning of its term, wanted to hold the consultation during the year 2027. But from Reykjavík they acknowledge that the threats from the President of the United States, Donald Trump, regarding Greenland (located just 300 kilometers away) have contributed to increasing uncertainty in the North Atlantic, and have weighed on the decision to advance the referendum by one year.From the executive, the vote for yes is defended, justifying that in a moment of turbulent waters in a region disputed between world powers to be the gateway to the Arctic, the country needs the stability and security that the EU can offer. On the side of no are all the opposition parties, who warn of the possible effects of accession on key sectors such as fishing, and warn of the risk of losing national sovereignty before European institutions.One month before the referendum is celebrated, the campaign is gaining intensity and polls show that Icelanders remain deeply divided on the issue. The most recent poll on the public broadcaster Rúv reveals that 54% oppose accession to the EU, compared to 46% who are in favor. Nevertheless, polls by the country's main newspaper, Morgunblaðið, give a narrow victory with 52% of the vote in favor of reopening negotiations with the EU, compared to 48% who oppose it.

Even with the memory of having lived "the unforgettable experience" of her first Sant Jordi, Audur Ava Ólafsdóttir (Reykjavik, 1958) strolls through the garden of Club Editor, the publishing house that has already published three of her unclassifiable novels, where an unwavering faith in the human race shines. Accustomed to the volcanic landscape of Iceland, Ólafsdóttir cannot help but marvel at the ease with which trees and flowers of all kinds grow in southern Europe, the setting of her best-known novel, Rosa candida –available in some thirty languages–, until now unpublished in Catalan, translated by Macià Riutort, as well as La veritat sobre la llum and Edèn, with which she won the Llibreter prize 2025.

Whiteout, sometimes translated as white storm, is a situation in which the white of the fog, the low clouds and the snow make you lose all spatial reference. It is also the title of a mystery novel by the Icelandic writer Ragnar Jónasson, one of those Nordic authors who have become fashionable in recent years. Here and now, as we drive through the north of his country in the middle of winter, climbing a mountain pass on a particularly tortuous stretch of the Arctic Coast Way, this meteorological expression is distressingly apt. Through the windshields I can see absolutely nothing. Moving forward is difficult, since, in dangerous terrain like this, you can end up falling off a cliff or colliding with some invisible obstacle.