Egil's Saga, Part 2

The things that stood out most to me about Egil's life were the more sentimental moments. In the midst of all the various adventures, legal wranglings, and battles, it was nice to see the incidents that showed he was also a person with real emotions too, rather than just a caricature of a bloodthirsty Viking. After his son Bodvar dies and his wife sends for their daughter Thorgerd, their interaction was very interesting. It seems that she knew her father just that well that she was able to come up with a way to pull him out of his gloom. I also was struck by Egil's ongoing friendship with Arinbjorn. Not many people these days seem to have lifelong friends, especially across such great distances. I was impressed by the way that they continued to give and give to each other.

Egil's Saga, Part 1

Already in this saga I notice a few repeated themes, or recurring situations. First, the situation where a woman gets "carried off", in other words kidnapped away from her family and then married to the guy who does this. In the first case, the children from that marriage weren't considered legitimate and therefore had no rights to their father's estate, even though it ended up getting passed out of their family entirely. On page 20, Thorolf says, "I don't even consider that you have any birthright, because I am told that your mother was taken by force and carried off to your father's house." In the next generation, the same sort of thing happens between Bjorn and Thora, but in their case, eventually a settlement was made and so far it seems that everyone is happy. Probably because Bjorn did not have any pre-existing children who would want to discredit the marriage.

There were also two main gifts given so far in the story. The first notable one was the ship given to Eirik, while he was young, by Thorolf Skallagrimsson. This "gift" was clearly a thinly veiled attempt to get on his good side, but it works for at least a while. Thorolf seems interested in patching up some of the hard feelings between the Norwegian royals and his family, but his father is skeptical, just as his grandfather was skeptical of his uncle Thorolf's efforts before he died.

The second gift that I took note of was the axe given to Skallagrim by King Eirik. I was confused as to why exactly it broke and what parts of it were broken. Did it break because Skallagrim was too strong and the axe went straight through to the stone? We already saw that he was supposed to have some super-strength abilities when he dove for a stone that "would take four men to move today" so that would be plausible. Or is the point that the axe was shiny and looked nice, but not the kind that would actually stand up to hard use? Either way, I think it provides a symbolic contrast between the type of person Skallagrim is versus Eirik. Was it really given with malicious intent? It's hard to say, but Thorolf secretly gets rid of the damaged axe instead of spitefully returning it the way his father asked him to, which further reinforces his role as the would-be peacekeeper.

Partway through I noticed some references to children being sprinkled with water, including Egil and Thorolf, which I looked up in the glossary and found out that sprinkling was part of the naming ceremony and initiation into society, so it doesn't necessarily have the Christian connotations that my mind jumped to at first. There's also the occasional reference to a person who practices witchcraft or a feast to go along with a sacrifice being made. Both of these show that at the time of this saga, beliefs in the ancient mythology and traditions were a part of most people's lives.

I thought it was sort of humorous the way Egil was portrayed as a kid, partying with the adults and spouting poetry, then bashing in other kids' heads over a game! I took these passages as tall tales, much like the American folk tales of Paul Bunyan and Davy Crockett ("killed 'im a b'ar when he was only three!"). The narrative seems to suggest that his intensity is at least partly inherited from his father and grandfather. I suppose Egil might be a good poster child for the nature-versus-nurture argument: Did he get his disruptive traits through genetics, or were they encouraged by his family, which seems to have endorsed the philosophy of "stab first and ask questions later (see pgs. 44-45)"?

Prologue to the Prose Edda

To me, this prologue is basically an explanation from an early medieval standpoint of how the Norse mythology came to be. The author starts by explaining why their ancestors were not part of the Judeo-Christian tradition. One phrase that stuck out to me was, "Who then could tell their sons of God's mighty wonders?" He understands that before recent (to him) times, people, at least in that part of the world, were reliant on oral recitation to pass down information and beliefs.

The idea that the earth is alive stands in huge contrast to the idea that became popular during the Enlightenment, that the earth is a machine working according to the "laws of nature." We don't usually think of the earth itself as being a living thing; but at the same time, it is becoming more apparent all the time how interdependent all forms of life are. Certainly the metaphor of the earth as a nourisher still has appeal today.

Snorri gives justification for his theory of the origins of the Norse myths by describing the qualities that should be ascribed to deity: power, strength, benevolence, eternality. Then he shows how the human people who came to be known as Thor, Odin, and others rose to such high regard by their feats of strength, bringing prosperity their region, coming from a foreign place, and ushering in a new era in the history of the people.

Introduction to Norse Mythology

One of the things that struck me the most about the introduction was the idea that mythology is one important way in which we can learn about ancient Scandinavian culture, and by extension, Germanic and Indo-European culture. The methods of interpretation have evolved, from Snorri in the thirteenth century, who only had access to the Icelandic source material and the viewpoint he adopted that the gods were originally humans who became deified over time in the myths, through more recent scholars who looked for explanations in natural phenomena, to the current prevailing view, which seems to be a combination of the two. As time goes on, our understanding has become more sophisticated and more source material has been unearthed, translated, and analyzed, but still there is a kind of vanishing point beyond which the reconstruction of history depends mostly on educated guesses and linguistics.

It makes perfect sense to me that the reason we want to study the myths and sagas is the same reason the Icelanders kept the ancient myths and poetry alive: "It is possible that the continued transmission of poetry about early kings and battles as historical sources required a continuing knowledge of heroic legend and of myth, not as the object of belief or as something associated with cult but simply as stories that people interested in the history of their own culture had to know (p. 17)."

I thought it was strange that the gods can be killed, specifically, Thor and Frey. I think it makes the gods seem a lot more human than I how I am used to thinking about them. But I wonder, why would people continue to worship a god who, according to myth, had died? Looking at the section on time cleared this up a bit. The major gods all die in the "near mythic future". So people who revered Thor maybe thought of themselves as participating in the mythic present, not that they had that exact terminology in mind.

I read about Loki. Apparently Loki makes quite a few appearances, and his role changes depending on what time frame the action is taking place in. He is not completely good or completely bad, and the book showed many instances that demonstrated Loki's inherent ambiguity.