Third Cousins Are Made for Mating

Scientists have analyzed Icelandic family trees and found that third cousins have the greatest number of offspring.

For example, for women born between 1800 and 1824, those with a mate related at the level of a third cousin had an average of 4.04 children and 9.17 grandchildren, while those related to their mates as eighth cousins or more distantly had 3.34 children and 7.31 grandchildren. For women born in the period 1925-1949 with mates related at the degree of third cousins, the average number of children and grandchildren were 3.27 and 6.64, compared to 2.45 and 4.86 for those with mates who were eighth cousins or more distantly related.

The findings hold for every 25-year interval studied, beginning with those born in the year 1800 up to the present day. [Link]

Her Ancestors Were Norse, of Course

Carrie Heiser has erected a 6-foot-tall, 800-pound bust of Leif Erikson's grandfather beside her driveway in Duvall, Washington.

Heiser's great-grandfather, Olafur Einarson, made the family's genealogical connection back to Olafur the White during a trip back to Iceland in 1899, she said. He searched through historical records in his hometown of Hafursa, and Heiser's uncle made copies of his research for the rest of the family.

Heiser's three children, ages 13, 17 and 26, didn't initially share her zeal for family history.

"They make fun of my Viking things," the Seattle-born Heiser said. "But now, with Olafur out there, they're intrigued. It put a face to this story I've been telling them." [Link]

The Truth Is Sometimes Ugly

A writer for Iceland Review Online found that she descends from a Viking named Bjálfi—which means "idiot" in modern Icelandic—through his colorful grandson Egill Skallagrímsson.

Most of the Vikings of the sagas were heroes - beautiful, generous, well-built men, who always did the right thing but got caught up in the web of fate and died in a tragic way.

My ancestor, Egill, was not like this. In Egils Saga, Egill is described as remarkably ugly and dangerously violent. At the age of seven he killed his playmate in a hockey game. Unlike most other Vikings in the sagas, Egill had trouble finding a girl to marry because of his looks. On top of it all, Egill had a big problem with alcohol. (Ironically, the biggest brewery in Iceland is named after him). [Link]

Land of the Dating Cousins

Everyone in Iceland is related. So says the website islendingabok.is, home to a registry of nearly Icelander born since 1703. Eygló Svala Arnarsdóttir was skeptical.

“I am not related to my boyfriend,” I stubbornly insisted the other day, having carefully made sure we weren't before we started dating. I was having a debate with my brother about his theory that all Icelanders were related to each other. He offered to prove it to me.

The next day there was an email from him waiting in my inbox. I opened it and discovered a list of names and dates of birth – a family tree. I recognized some of the names and soon realized that this was a list of my ancestors and my boyfriend’s ancestors, all the way back to the 18th century.

Apparently we share a great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, whose name was Gudrún Einarsdóttir. [Link]

A Land Where Moss Is Better Than Gold

Having nothing better to do, Iceland takes great care in naming its children.

The official Board of Human Names recently turned down requests for registering Malm and Adils as new Icelandic male names. Mosi, Svea, Eybjört and Korka were accepted.

According to Icelandic law regarding human names, given names in Iceland have to fit Icelandic grammar rules and be spelled in an “Icelandic way,” unless the name has belonged to the family of the child for generations.

The board also denied a request to use the female name Gull, which translates to “gold,” but the male name Mosi, meaning “moss,” was accepted. [Link]