Úlfar Bragason's engaging study of Sturla Þórðarson's Íslendinga saga is a most valuable contribution to the field of Old Norse-Icelandic and beyond. Whereas previous scholarship on Sturlunga saga has been primarily historical, Úlfar approaches the compilation from a literary point of view. The book may be regarded as a continuation of Úlfar's Ætt og saga (Háskólaútgáfan, 2010), in which he discusses the structure of the contemporary sagas, the narrative mode in Íslendinga saga, and the presentation of Sturla's three sons, although in this book, he concentrates on the narrative (Íslendinga saga) itself, especially its characters and Snorri Sturluson in particular, as viewed by the narrator. Reykjaholt Revisited is an innovative book, and the scholarship is original. In his preface, Úlfar acknowledges his dependence on W. P. Ker's groundbreaking research on the narrative art of Icelandic sagas in his Epic and Romance (1897) and dedicates his book to Ker's memory.The book consists of ten chapters. In chapter I, “Introduction,” Úlfar outlines the structure and content of the book: “The present book addresses three principal themes: firstly, the depiction of Snorri Sturluson and his family in Íslendinga saga; secondly, the complex relationship between the saga writer, his scriptorium, and his narrative materials; and, thirdly, the saga's sources, modes of presentation and narrative point of view” (pp. 17–8). He emphasizes that his study is based on a narratological analysis of the saga—both what is mentioned and not mentioned. Following an overview of the manuscript tradition of Sturlunga saga and previous scholarship on the compilation, he turns to a discussion of Sturla Þórðarson's sources: elderly informants, contemporary written accounts, and what Sturla himself had witnessed. This naturally leads to an interesting theoretical discourse on memory (in the case of Íslendinga saga, collective memory) and a discussion of the fact that whereas Sturla was a source for his own narrative, he was also a participant in its events and the narrator, and yet everything is described from an external perspective. As Úlfar points out, Sturla's own thoughts rarely find expression; nonetheless, “Íslendinga saga also bears witness to the values of its creator and the views (on people and issues) of his community of memory” (p. 30). “In recounting former times, Sturla the narrator is a political witness who surveys the scene, considers events from multiple perspectives, and narrates them in the third person” (p. 32). The chapter concludes with a discussion of character portrayals in Íslendinga saga. Úlfar refers to Jens Eder's analysis of character presentation in films, a medium whose narrative style shows similarities with the way events and characters function in the sagas, and comments that if character descriptions in narratives are divided into Eder's three categories (body-centered, mind-centered, and sociality-centered), the characters in Íslendinga saga should primarily be assigned to the sociality-centered category: “The elements that matter most in the narrative are the social status of characters, their relationship to any conflicts that arise, their role in the community, and their dealings with others” (p. 35).Chapter II, “Snorri Sturluson fell in love with the place: Fateful Reykjaholt,” is concerned with Sturla the character's ties to Reykholt, a church site, where Sturla may have studied, and where he spent a considerable amount of time and developed a close relationship with Snorri. Úlfar takes issue with those who have criticized the depiction of Snorri in Íslendinga saga, arguing that they “have overlooked the fact that the choice and presentation of material serve the tragic narrative and the explanations that the saga gives for his fall” (p. 43). In the rest of the chapter, he mines the saga and other sagas in the Sturlung compilation for information about Snorri's life, personality, and death, and the information they provide about Reykholt.The focus of chapter III, “A wise and learned man: Sturla the saga writer,” is Sturla Þórðarson, the narrator, who plays a significant role in the events of the saga, and who is referred to in the third person with only very few exceptions. As Úlfar points out, Íslendinga saga thus reads as a historical record and not as a memoir or an autobiography. The chapter examines Sturla as he is portrayed in Sturlu þáttr and as he appears in Íslendinga saga. Next, it discusses the sources of the saga and the memorial links between Sturla and his father, Þórðr Sturluson. Other sources, such as genealogies, are discussed in chapter IV, “Those of whom the stories tell: Understanding characters,” which also provides a description of the manner in which characters are presented, especially Snorri Sturluson.The point of departure in chapter V, “We trust his wisdom and integrity: Narrative point of view,” is Robert F. Berkhofer, Jr.’s Beyond the Great Story: History as Text and Discourse (Belknap Press, 1995), in which Berkhofer identifies four kinds of narrative perspective. In the light of this important work, Úlfar stresses the importance of examining “not just the manipulation of narrative focus in Íslendinga saga but also how the narrator reveals his own knowledge and understanding, the values he emphasizes, the ways in which his attitudes find expression, and the emotions revealed behind the narrative's apparent objectivity” (p. 103). The chapter addresses the aristocratic mind-set of the saga and its narrative point of view as reflected in its account of Hvamm-Sturla's sons.The next four chapters are concerned with Snorri Sturluson and members of his family. Chapter VI, “To Snorri her progress seemed quite amusing: Snorri's women,” surveys scholarship on attitudes toward women in the Sagas of Icelanders and the contemporary sagas. Úlfar comments that “as women rarely intervene directly in events outside the household, we observe them primarily 1) as grandmothers, mothers, fosterers, daughters, sisters and wives, all of whom may be termed links within the family; or 2) as concubines, mistresses or sexual beings of some kind” (p. 129). Nonetheless, the women in Snorri's life receive some attention, and Úlfar mines the saga for what it has to say about them. The women include Guðný Böðvarsdóttir (Snorri's mother), Herdís Bersadóttir and Hallveig Ormsdóttir (Snorri's two wives), and the mothers of his illegitimate children. In chapter VII, “He had a son called Órækja: Snorri's sons,” Úlfar turns to the portrayal of Snorri's two sons, Órækja, a son born outside of wedlock; and Jón the tiny, his son with Herdís, and Snorri's turbulent relationship with them. Úlfar summarizes the problems as follows: “Both sons were temperamental and ambitious like their father, but he was reluctant to help them achieve independence, even though he drew on their support when it suited him. His sons threatened his status as the pater familias, and he himself lacked courage in conflict” (p. 157). Chapter VIII, “Þórdís was Snorri's daughter: The daughters,” discusses Snorri's three daughters: Hallbera, whose mother was Herdís; Ingibjörg, whose mother was Guðrún Hreinsdóttir, Snorri's concubine; and Þordís, whose mother is said to have been a certain Oddný. Úlfar examines the lives of these women as they are portrayed in Íslendinga saga and Snorri's behavior toward them. Úlfar points out that “Snorri made use of his daughters in his political machinations without ever seeking their permission, and it [Íslendinga saga] also confirms that his daughters were regarded as highly desirable brides because of their father's influence” (p. 169). In chapter IX, “Snorri looked after the assets of Klængr and Ormr: Snorri's stepsons,” Úlfar discusses what Íslendinga saga reports about the Bjarnarsons, Klængr and Ormr, and their relationship with Snorri. Úlfar concludes that Snorri treated his stepsons well while Hallveig remained alive and even seems to have been more indulgent toward them than toward his biological sons.The final chapter, chapter X, “Why don't I make you just like Óðinn? Conclusion,” summarizes the main arguments of the book, that is, the portrayal of Snorri and his family, and also reflects, among other things, on ties of family and friends and what medieval listeners/readers were meant to learn from the Íslendinga saga. An Icelandic resumé of the book, a vast bibliography of primary and secondary sources, and an index of names of individuals and families, places, weapons, and armor, and literary works round off the volume.There is much to be learned from Reykjaholt Revisited: Representing Snorri in Sturla Þórðarson's Íslendinga saga. It is an authoritative book and a must-read for anyone working on Sturlunga saga and/or Snorri Sturluson It is well-structured and beautifully written. Andrew Wawn deserves accolades as well for his fine translation of the volume. So does the Stofnun Árna Magnússonar í íslenskum fræðum for a nicely produced book.