Grettir's Saga

We finally completed our reading of Grettir's Saga, translated by Jesse Byock. This saga was somewhat easier to follow than our last one, as it was focused mostly on a single character instead of a community with its complex genealogies. Of course, the reader is treated to long genealogies and a large cast of characters in this tale of Grettir. Centered on an outlaw who, though physically strong, intelligent, and a clever wordsmith, lacked impulse control and was not inclined to labor, the saga is destined to end poorly for Grettir. His personal disposition and bad luck (particularly after a defeating Glam, a revenant that was terrorizing a part of Iceland) curse him to wander the lands, living on the margins of society yet still respected for defeating berserkers, trolls, and the undead. So the quasi-heroic figure of the outlaw was clearly something that appealed to Icelandic audiences when this saga was written (probably) in the 14th century. 

Perhaps every society requires non-conformers to "rock the boat" and challenge the status quo, as Grettir's complicated life exemplifies. Despite robbing for his survival, and even raping a maidservant in one particularly disturbing episode, even Grettir's enemies eventually support his kinsman after the killer of our protagonist resorts to sorcery to defeat him. Indeed, Grettir's death caused the Althing to prohibit sorcery with the threat of the death penalty, if we recall correctly. Furthermore, the manner in which his brother avenges his death in Constantinople is certainly exceptional, adding to Grettir's renown even after death. Of course, as a saga written by a Christian author, of the Middle Ages, the social order cannot be truly upended or overthrown by the likes of Grettir. Ultimately, rank, status and lineage rule the day, and those who transgress Christian morality will eventually make amends. Thus, the adulterous Spes, who eventually marries Grettir's brother, compensates for her misdeeds and the two end their lives in Rome after seeking penance for their sins. 

Yet one can see a celebration of the Icelandic lifestyle and individuality of the settlers and their early descendants, a period where men (and usually men, although women like Asdis are certainly admired as powerful matriarchs) stood up for their honor and that of their kinsmen without a centralized state attempting to police their behavior. Presumably this explains the appeal of Grettir's Saga to modern Icelanders and foreign readers, who can enjoy the understatement of the characters' lines, Grettir's proverbial speech, and the attempts by one man who refuses to conform forging his own path. Such character archetypes are always appealing to a variety of readers, across time and space. 

The Saga of the People of Laxardal

The Saga of the People of Laxardal featured more genealogies and excessive characters than any other saga we have read so far. However, it was actually an engaging tale that captures a key moment in Iceland's history through the entwined families of the Laxardal area. One is immediately struck by the prominent women whose will and character determine the course of the various marriages, feuds, duels, and conflicts across several generations. Women, especially Gudrun (or even the Irish slave) assert themselves against fathers and godis, but without upending dominant gender roles. After all, the saga pokes fun at the idea of women wearing breeches. 

One is also reminded of how vast the world was to the people of Iceland. References to Ireland, Russia, Constantinople, Rome, and other parts of Europe occur throughout the text. This serves as a useful reminder that the rural civilization of medieval Iceland was never disconnected from the rest of the world, and absorbed traders, slaves, migrants, Christians, and travelers. Of course, as the text was written sometime in the 13th century and by Christian authors, the saga quickly passes over the Christianization of Iceland, only mentioning a few initial forms of local resistance. Yet the saga undoubtedly draws on pre-Christian folk belief, ritual, and fears of sorcery and supernatural phenomena to add suspense and show the other sources of conflict in Iceland. Moreover, regardless of Christian conversion, clearly kinship, honor and local concepts of compensation continued.

That brings us to the main theme of the story, or one of them. Kinship and feud. Since these families were quite large and conflicts arose over land, goods, power, or women (Gudrun instigates the central feud after the meandering early chapters), sometimes feuding clans or kinship groups continued to fight over generations, harboring new resentments and more feuds as different kinship groups and their respective dependents threw more salt into festering wounds. Feuds between kinsmen can never lead to any good, as it deprived the community of its best leaders (such as Bolli). Peace could only last as long as any level-headed charismatic male authority figure was around to demand it. This is why we think there may be a pro-Christian sentiment underlying the saga, emphasizing forgiveness as a virtue. Of course, it didn't always work, but Gudrun's transformation into a devout Christian woman may symbolize the transformation wrought by the new faith. 

The Saga of the Volsungs

After reading Egil's Saga, a desire to read additional Icelandic sagas was sparked. Although quite different in that The Saga of the Volsungs is set in a more distant past that is far removed from the Iceland of Egil's lifetime (not to mention the 13th century author of both sagas), both demonstrate some of the social values of the "Viking World" and Germanic cultures of northern Europe (particularly the emphasis on kinship and warriors). In the case of the Volsungs, the prose narrative mixed some verse while documenting the rise and fall of the Volsung clan during the tumultuous 5th century in Europe. 

The fall of the Roman Empire, Burgundian and Gothic expansion, Hun invasions and conquests, and the varied migrations of Germanic peoples are the historical background for this account. A time when centralized authorities were weak and esteem was attached to male warriors or champions help explain why the story of Sigurd (and his forebears) appealed to the Scandinavians centuries later, who remembered Sigurd in oral traditions, poems, and art before Volsung was composed in the 1200s. 

Although this story and that of the Nibelungenlied share a similar source in legends and epics shared by many Germanic-speaking societies in northern Europe, the saga, written in straightforward prose translated by Byock, seems to revel in its supernatural events and characters. Odin makes a number of appearances throughout the saga, and a dragon, an unbelievably powerful sword (via Odin), fate, a ring, dreams, magic, shape-shifting, and seers appear throughout the text. 

The saga is thoroughly immersed in this magical world, even if the central hero of the Volsung family, Sigurd, remains a mortal. Despite his great strength, and of the fame and fortune Sigur enjoys as a slayer of Fafnir, he cannot escape destiny. Loss of favor with Odin and the cursed golden treasure of the greedy Fafnir ensure the fall of the Volsungs. Human beings, even great warriors, will meet their end like the lowly (and cowardly) thrall. With regards to divine intervention and fatalism, this saga resembles the ancient Greek romances, but with a more blunt sense of humor and violent society.

While not the most interesting prose, this saga's unique interpretation of Scandinavian retention of the Sigfried epic is valuable and worthwhile reading. The dialogue can be quite snappy and humorous, too, with exchanges of insults or ironic lines uttered by characters who continue to drink poison. The multi-generational family saga aspect displays the importance of kinship, family, and mythology in the Norse world. Moreover, all the great archetypes of the hero in fantasy is established in the story: the quest of the hero, the mission for avenging one's kin, the slaying of the dragon, and a rise and fall through curses or loss of favor of the gods. There are even very strong, compelling women in the saga. Gudun and Brynhild, for instance, engage in battle against men while also moving the plot forward through their actions and visions of the future. 

Indeed, the great Attila the Hun is brought down by Gudrun, while women often express agency in determining their own affairs (Brynhild choosing her own husband). Indeed, women are central to the survival of the Volsung lineage, and prove to be quite heroic (or villainous, in some cases). The spectacular and unrealistic epic battles and clever method used by Sigurd to defeat Fafnir are also entertaining episodes which reveal the degree to which Tolkien was indebted to Norse mythology. Without sagas and narratives such as his the entire genre of fantasy would be be difficult to imagine. 

Egil's Saga

Decided to finally read an Icelandic saga after reading about them in an unorthodox history of the novel. Although clearly based on historical figures with precise genealogies and specific events in the history of Norway and Iceland, Egil's Saga is undoubtedly a fictionalized account of Egil Skallagrim's adventures and exploits as a poet, warrior, Viking raider, farmer, and respected figure across the Viking world of the 10th century. It is clearly fictionalized because of the constant references to magic arts, giants, trolls, and other fantastic or supernatural phenomena which occur in the text, not to mention the imprecise dates and superhuman accomplishments of Egil himself. Translated by Scudder, the saga itself is very readable and engaging, consisting of short chapters that progress the plot from Egil's ancestors to his descendants in Iceland after a feud. 

Along the way, we see how events in previous generations reverberate for their descendants as Egil's family feuds with the King of Norway (first Harald, then Eirik and his wife, Gunnhild). Egil and his brother Thorolf also make a name for themselves (and increase their wealth and position) through Viking raids across the Viking world. Thus, this saga is richly detailed for those interested in pre-Christian Norway and Iceland, particularly in understanding how status, rank, honor, kinship ties, and political structures functioned. Its use of verse by Egil further enhances the story by giving full expression to the protagonist for expressing himself and his inner, often contradictory thoughts or moods. This adds a breath of fresh air to a narrative which, otherwise, often tells rather than shows. 

For prose narratives from medieval Europe, this is certainly much more interesting and exciting than hagiographies of the saints. However, does it really qualify as a novel? We have a general plot, of sorts, with conflict, resolution, and it is written largely in prose. Structurally, it seems to fit the bill, even if stylistically it falls short of most of the kinds of characterization one would like. Indeed, besides Egil and a few of his kinsman, most of the characters are flat and serve as obstacles or opponents in the incessant feuding, raiding, battling, and killings that take our hero on various journeys across Scandinavia, England, Iceland, the Baltic, and Frisia. One will have to read more Icelandic sagas to see how the genre changed over time and possible stylistic differences that enrich the history of prose writing of the medieval era.