Odroerir Heathen Journal Volume II

The journal by, for, and about those engaged in the
reconstruction of heathen culture and religion.
The Heathen Journal
VOLUME
II
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Óðrœrir 1
Odroerir
The Heathen Journal
Volume II Team:
Editors:
Josh Rood
Mathias Nordvig
Matt Walker
John Wills
Erik Lacharity
Bil Linzie
(With special assistance from)
Alyssa Paulsen
Benjamin Kowalski
Cat Ellis
Cat Heath
Christian Avis
Benjamin Kowalski
Terence Plumb
Tim Shanks
Art and Layout Team:
Christine Foltzer
Dan Oropallo
Odroerir would like to give a special
Thank You to the following:
Terry Gunnell
Christopher Abram
Stephen Pollington
Without your invaluable insight and advice, our academic standards would be much lower.
All art by Dan Oropallo unless otherwise stated.
In This Volume
Introduction ............................................................................... 4
Joshua Rood
Articles
“Heathen” Linguistic Origins and Early Context ...................... 6
Joshua Rood
Establishing the Innangard ....................................................... 17
Joshua Rood
Cult and Identity in Modern Heathenry ................................... 27
Shane Ricks
Symbel: The Heathen Drinking Ritual? ................................... 43
John Wills
Feeding the Wolf ...................................................................... 59
Dan Campbell
Tree Cults in Frankish Heathenism ......................................... 68
Erik Lacharity
The Finnish Tradition: An Introduction .................................... 76
Anssi Alhonen
Self-Directed Language Learning ............................................ 98
Caspian Smith
Living Heathen
A Springtime Procession ........................................................ 110
Christopher Robert
Two Yule Rituals .................................................................... 114
Josh Heath
Beer and Brewing Culture
Through Eyes of a New England Heathen ............................. 122
Mark Andersen
Some Brew Recipes..................................................................127
Mark Andersen, Jon Talkington
Living Lore
Skald Craft
Understanding and Writing in the Old Norse Meters ............. 135
Jon Cyr
Poetry ..................................................................................... 149
Various people
A Snake Story ......................................................................... 153
Josh Heath.
Ashlad and Redfoks ..............................................................156
Tim Gladu
Bibliography .......................................................................... 155
Contact Odroerir ..................................................................... 175
Óðrœrir 4
Introduction
Odroerir: The Heathen Journal is an accumulation of the research and experience of men and women
engaged in the reconstruction of the heathen traditions of northern Europe. The journal’s contributors are
involved in a grassroots movement in both America and Europe – a movement that encompasses greatly
varied cultures, local customs and religious practices. The diversity of our contributors is matched only by
our uniting belief that reconstruction of our various traditions is dependent on understanding their origins.
This conviction is the foundation that Odroerir is built upon, and our desire to act on it has driven us to
maintain a high academic standard for the material we present. We are confident in saying that Odroerir
is a credible resource for those interested in contemporary heathenism.
When we first conceived the idea of Odroerir, we were just a handful of individuals representing a variety of groups with a shared approach to heathenism. In our discussions with each other, we realized that
our approach had produced few publications to which we might direct interested individuals. To simply direct people to a rare and expensive stockpile of academic works was not enough. We saw a need to provide
documentation of our own dialogue if we wanted audiences to understand how we saw and understood
heathenism ourselves. We also decided that, if we were to make an attempt to represent contemporary heathenism, we needed to insure – to the best of our ability – that our claims and conclusions were supported
by (and consistent with) the work of modern authorities on the subjects we would be presenting. We were
fortunate enough to be able to assemble a team that we felt confident could hold us to the high standard
we set for ourselves; but information is nothing without a community.
Our ability to present this journal is greatly indebted to the rich variety of individual talent from throughout the heathen community and the enthusiasm with which people contributed and reviewed the material.
We could not have done this without the deep insights and guidance of academic authorities on the matters
we are presenting. Our work would have been impossible without the research and writing of contributors with whom we were previously unaware of, but now consider friends. We are indebted to those who
were not even a part of the Odroerir team, but who volunteered to edit, proofread, and give advice that
we gladly took. We have been humbled by their generosity. We never dreamed we would get the readership that we have, and we have been inundated with emails of support, advice and general inquiry. We
have received more submissions – artistic, poetic and academic – than we have been able to make use of.
We have realized with great joy that what was started out of fear that our voices weren’t being heard has
become a rallying place for those across the heathen communities who are excited to present heathenism
as it really was, as it really is and as it perhaps can be.
This Volume
Volume I was an introduction of sorts, and we would suggest that it be read before this present volume. It
has also played another role which was critically important in order for Odroerir to really become what
we envisioned. It set the tone of what sort of approach we take to heathenism, and it attracted others who
do the same. That was precisely what we needed from a debut issue. Our goal to bridge the gap between
the academic knowledge of ancient heathen traditions and the implementation of ongoing ones today depended on the contributions of others throughout the general heathen community. We wanted to expand
with subsequent issues. We introduced Odroerir as a vessel that needed the wisdom, experience, and artistic talent of the heathen community to help fill it. That is precisely what we received, and we have been
able to expand tremendously.
The decentralized nature of our contribution base has resulted in a bit of a nebulously structured second volume. Article formats may show some variation, and the sections are not rigidly distinct from one
Óðrœrir 5
another. Terminology and personal and place-name spellings may differ slightly between authors depending on their region and background. This should be expected and we prefer to allow for an organic
development for each issue rather than to try and force a particular stylistic and structural appearance at
the cost of information. There is no established “theme.” The Odroerir team agreed only that we should
strive to at least address some of the more “basic” topics before we can build off of them. In addition,
our contributors gave an array of content, and we were able to expand the journal in multiple directions.
We’ve structured the content into four loosely categorized sections and tried to establish a flow between
topics. The first section contains research oriented articles that cover a wide variety of subject matter
relevant to heathen religion, society, and worldview. The second section is a shift in focus from research
towards heathen experience, practice and implementation. The third section contains some living lore in
prose and poetry. Lastly, we have our book reviews.
Regarding the variety of “traditions” contained in this and future issues; Odroerir overwhelmingly
flows out of a “Germanic heathen” focus, but it would be academically dishonest to present heathenism as
an insular, singular tradition. Historically, Germanic heathenism refers to a variety of local and regional
religious practices. The same is true of our contributors. There was also a good bit of cultural exchange
with neighboring European cultures. For this reason, we have decided to allow a place for some articles
which focus on religious practices that are relevant to heathenism but are not necessarily Germanic, and
whose authors may not even refer to as “heathen.” By default Odroerir's articles stem from the common
Germanic heathen viewpoint, which naturally has variations. Articles which focus on a specific culture
will always make clear which culture they are referring to, and those which focus on a culture which is
not Germanic will contain the name of their focus in their title. In this way, Odroerir is able to present
information from a variety of cultures related to heathenism without mixing them together or confusing
them with one another.
We are proud of Odroerir's second volume, and we hope that the heathen community is also. Feel free
to share this with friends, family, and community, and to contribute if you believe you have something to
offer. Thank you for reading, and enjoy!
Joshua Rood
Odroerir Editor
April 2, 2012
Articles
“Heathen”
The Linguistic Origins and
Early Context
•
By Joshua Rood
The modern English word heathen has long been the favorite label used in academic circles to identify the
unchristian peoples of western and northern Europe during the Middle Ages. Among medieval historians it
is used more precisely to identify those “Germanic”1 peoples who still practiced their indigenous religion.
It has also been the title most favored by modern people who are engaged in the reconstruction of preChristian Germanic traditions, not only to describe those religious practices they are reviving, but also as
a self moniker. Because the word heathen pertains to a particular demography,2 this article focuses on the
context and implications that it would have had while that demography coexisted with the scribes who
recorded it. I will identify the source of the word heathen and I will trace it throughout the time period
which the “heathen” Europeans existed. It is my hope that this endeavor will allow the reader to have a
serious understanding of the origins, early history, and more importantly the context of the word heathen,
and what this might have meant for the people implied by it.
The word first appears in the Gothic language as a translation of several New Testament books by the
Bishop, Ulfilas (ca 310-383). These books are still preserved in multiple manuscripts, but most notably the
Codex Argentius3 where it is recorded on thin purple velum of high quality and written in gold and silver
ink. The following passage is taken from his translation of chapter 7 of the Book of Mark, and it contains
the first recorded mention of the term as we know it:
Wasuþ þan so qino haiþnô, Saurini fwnikiska gabaurþai, jah baþ ina ei þo
unhulþon uswaurpi us dauhtr izos.
The woman was a haiþnô, a Syrophenician by nation; and she besought him
that he would cast forth the devil out of her daughter.4
In the context of the story, the woman in reference was a Greek who had been born in Syrian Phoenicia.
She was not one of the Jews to whom Christ had been ministering prior to her arrival. She was an outsider
to the group. She was a foreigner, and a stranger. The Book of Mark goes on to explain that Jesus met
1 - For the sake of simplicity, this paper will use the term “Germanic” to refer to the people who have conventionally, been labeled
“Germanic,” despite the issues that rise from pigeonholing vastly different groups of people under one moniker.
2 - At least, within the circles I have described.
3 - Codex Argenteus, 2004.
4 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 7
her when he had gone up the Mediterranean coast to the vicinity of Tyre and Sidon. While he was there,
this woman who is referred to as a haiþnô asked Christ to drive out a demon that had taken up residence
in her daughter. Christ hesitated to heal anyone other than his own people and responded rather harshly,
“let the children first be fed, for it is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” The
foreign woman responded, “yes, Lord: yet the dogs under the table eat of the children’s crumbs.” With
this response, Christ claimed that her daughter was healed.
There have been two conflicting theories pertaining to the origins and etymology of the term. The
traditional, widely accepted explanation is that the term heathen is a derivative of the abstract noun heath.
The Indo European origin of the word heath is the root kait, used to signify an uncultivated forest. The
definition has changed little and appears in Gothic haiþi (feminine) and genitive haiþjôs as “field, open
untilled land, pasture, open country”. This corresponds precisely with Old English hǽð, Middle Low
German hêde, Middle Dutch hêde, heide, Dutch heide, hei, Old High German, Middle High German,
German heide, and Old Norse heiðr. The prevalence of heath and its linguistic variations throughout all
Germanic languages demonstrates that the word is not only very old, but that it reflects innate Germanic
concepts. The word haiþnô stems from the formative suffix haiþi-, and translates as “being of the haiþi/
of the heath”.5 A heathen then, is literally a person who lives in the uncultivated wastelands of the
wilderness. It is assumed that Ulfilas had chosen a Gothic word on model of the Latin pāgānus. Indeed,
pāgānus had originally meant ‘rustic villager’ in reference to the rural communities that existed outside
of Rome’s great urban centers. However in the years after Christianity had established itself as an urban
religion and while ancient deities were still retained in rural districts, it came to refer to their religious
status. Ulfilas would have recorded his translation during this latter period and may have wished to
portray the woman as dwelling in the countryside or wastelands away from civilization. The traditional
explanation for this is that it stressed the root sense of “rural”.6
In 1896, Sophus Bugge challenged this explanation by offering that the word haiþnô was not an original
Gothic word at all, but was a product of the Classical Mediterranean world, and an offshoot of Armenian
het’anos. 7 This theory is consistent with his belief that the Germanic people had no original religious
or mythological systems, and that they were all derivatives of the Classical or Christian world. His
supposition has by and large been rejected, as should his explanation for haiþnô. It is clear however, that
the term was used as a Gothic gloss for the Greek hellēnis (ἑλληνίς), which literally means “Of the Greek
Nation” and is similar to Greek ethnos (ἔθνος, meaning “nation” or “people”). Ethnos and Latin gēns
(gentilis, our gentile) happen to be equivalents, each being in the Septuagint and Vulgate translations of
the Hebrew Bible for the word goyim.8 When put into the context of the Hebrew Bible, goyim, ethnos, and
gentili refer specifically to non-Jewish nations. Within a Christian context the meaning is shifted from
non-Jewish nations to non-Christian. As we can see, none of these words hold any relation to “heath” or
the concept of wilderness, and instead refer to a person’s status as belonging to a foreign nation. In the
Book of Mark then, in this context the woman was a Greek, not a Jew. Neither was she someone whom
Christ had been associating with. She was “other,” religiously and nationally. This information is relevant
because we will see heathen used often by Germanic scribes as a translation for gentili in earlier Latin
5 - Simpson and Weiner, 1989.
6 - Metcalf, 1999.
7 - See Simek’s Dictionary of Northern Mythology. In his most famous work Studier over der nordiske Gude og Heltesagns Oprindelse,
Bugge made his argument through attempting to connect the etymologies of Norse words to classical and biblical sources. (Loki from
Luzifer, Urðarbrunnr from Jordan, and Iðavellir from Eden). In addition to this bias, Bugge fails to explain why a foreign word like
het’anos would spread through the Germanic languages while the term gentili, which was far more popular in Ecclesiastical, writings
does not.
8 - Watkins, 2000; See also Liddell and Scott, 1883; See also Lewis, 1890.
Óðrœrir 8
texts. We will also observe a pattern that develops which demonstrates its shifting definition during the
period in which Christian and native German people were intermingling.
While the Bishop Ulfilas introduced what would become the word heathen in text during the mid 4th
century, it does not appear in surviving records for the next several hundred years in any way other than in
reproductions of the manuscript containing the Gothic Bible. Whether or not the word would have been
spoken or written on perishable material during this period cannot be determined but it does not appear
to have been used by any scribes, and it doesn’t appear in any of the law codes that were recorded by the
multiple Germanic people who had settled in and around the Roman borders on the continent. The Goths,
along with most of the other tribes that dealt with the Roman world would subsequently become a part of
that world. The wealth of tribal laws we have from this period are in Latin. The works of “Germanic”
writers like Ulfilas had become a part of the literature of the Latin world, and they were bound and held
in Rome with little contact or influence on other tribes aside from those which were highly Romanized.
Rome would deteriorate, and its culture with it. When Charlemagne had his renaissance in the beginning
of the 9th century and attempted to revive Roman culture, the Carolingians helped import the writings of
Rome into the northern “frontiers” of Christian Europe. This enabled a “classical” ecclesiastical culture to
be established, and heavily impacted the surrounding tribes who had not been Romanized and had retained
their own cultures. Likewise, vernacular literacy had finally begun to pick up among Germanic groups
as exemplified in the early 7th century Anglo Saxon law codes, and expanded in subsequent centuries.
Through this route Germanic and Christian thought in northern Europe would intermingle and syncretize.
The Anglo Saxon laws do hold a wealth of valuable material, but while our records of them demonstrate
that they are the oldest Anglo Saxon vernacular texts by far and the word heathen does appear in them
several times, we will need to investigate other sources before we can really put the laws into an appropriate
context. There are two particular bodies of work which help to demonstrate the context that heathen had
come to be used in. One of these sources was compiled during the reign of the Anglo Saxon king Alfred
the Great, shortly after his own peace treaty with the Danish king Guthrum and the establishment of the
Danelaw around the 890s. This work, referred to as the Anglo Saxon Chronicle9 is exactly that. It is a
chronicle of the Anglo Saxon people through dated entries from the mythical Anglo Saxon past, the time
of Christ, into the year of its compilation. Since this text was all compiled at once, the scribes needed to
backdate entries which required that they draw from other sources. The Anglo Saxons at this time would
have also intermingled considerably with the Brythonic peoples, the Picts, and the Gaelic Irish. For
this purpose it is also beneficial to explore the Irish Ulster Annals,10 considering how neatly the entries
coincide between the two in relation to this study and the significant likelihood of influence between them.
The first mention of the word heathen within the Anglo Saxon Chronicle is from an extensive entry
for the year 616 in reference to the death of the first Christian king of Kent, Æthelberht. The entry
draws from an original source which is clearly Bede’s Historiam Ecclesiasticam Gentis Anglorum: Liber
Secundus (Ecclesiastical History of the English People, Book Two).11 The chronicle’s entry is a gloss of
his work, translated from Latin into Anglo Saxon, and in it the word heathen is used twice as a translation
of Bede’s text. After relaying the death of Æthelberht, both texts go on to highlight the refusal of his
son Eadbald to become a Christian. While Bede refers to Eadbald as living in a sinful manner that
was so corrupt that it was “not even heard among the gentes (gentiles),” the entry in the Anglo Saxon
Chronicle records simply that he was living in hæðenum (heathendom). Bede goes on to describe the
departure of the bishops Mellitus and Justus from the barbaros (barbarians) of Kent who had refused to be
9 - The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 1972.
10 - Annala Uladh, Annals of Ulster; otherwise Annals of Senat: A Chronicle of Irish Affairs. Vol. 1, 1887.
11 - Bede, 2011.
Óðrœrir 9
converted. He did not use the term gentes in this instance however, and described their religious practices
as being a “daemonicis cultibus” (demonic cult). The Anglo Saxon scribe who translated Bede chose not
to differentiate between the terms gentes and daemonicis cultibis and used the term heðene (heathen) a
second time. The implications here are that while Bede chose the word gentes to refer to Eadbald’s people
who were part of a nation which was foreign to an established Christian nation, and daemonicis cultibus in
clear condemnation of the worship of deities which were in Bede’s opinion, clearly evil; the Anglo Saxon
scribe who translated this work had decided to bring these two separate implications from two separate
terms under the same moniker of hæðen. The term no longer implied “foreign” or “country dweller”. Its
context is both that of being “outside a Christian state” and “condemnable”.
In the end of the eighth century, Anglo Saxon territories were invaded and subjected to plunder and
slaughter. The invaders were Danes12. They were both foreign to the Anglo Saxons and still held to their
native religion. They also held no consideration for Christian sanctity, and targeted churches, slaughtered
monks, and terrified the scribes who wrote about their incursions. They would go on to change the entire
political and religious landscape of north and east England by establishing their Danelaw. Both the Irish
and Anglo Saxon sources record the wars between the Danes in the form of yearly entries between 793 with
the Viking attack on Lindisfarne, to the peace treaties between Guthrum and Alfred in the end of the 9th
century. Both sources provide a wealth of terminology which is exceptionally telling of the nomenclature
that developed regarding the Danes during this century of conflict. Regarding the initial Viking raid in
793 when they destroyed the monastery at Lindisfarne and slaughtered the monks, the Ulster Annals say
simply; “Devastation of all the Isles of Britain by gentiles.”13 The entry that appears in the Anglo Saxon
Chronicles was recorded later:
Her wæron reðe forebecna cumene ofer Norðhymbra land, þæt folc earmlic
bregdon, þæt wæron ormete þodenas ligrescas, fyrenne dracan wæron
gesewene on þam lifte fleogende. Þam tacnum sona fyligde mycel hunger,
litel æfter þam, þæs ilcan geares on .vi. Idus Ianuarii, earmlice hæþenra
manna hergunc adilegode Godes cyrican in Lindisfarnaee þurh hreaflac
mansliht.
This year came dreadful fore-warnings over the land of the Northumbrians,
terrifying the people most woefully: these were immense sheets of light
rushing through the air, and whirlwinds, and fiery dragons flying across the
firmament. These tremendous tokens were soon followed by a great famine:
and not long after, on the sixth day before the ides of January in the same
year, the harrowing inroads of heathen men made lamentable havoc in the
church of God in Holy-island, by rapine and slaughter.14
Here the foreign invaders are referred to as “hæþenra manna” by the Anglo Saxons, while the Irish Annals
label them gentilibur. Both sources go on to demonstrate a correlating pattern associating “otherness”
with the Danes.
Within the Irish Annals between 793 mentioned above and through the entire 9th century to follow, the
Danes are interchangeably referred to as gentilibur and gaill (OI-foreigner). After 840, when they are
12 - In this case, “Danes” does not refer to the people of modern day Denmark, but rather in implies people from Norway, Jutland, and
Sweden. Essentially then, it refers to “Scandinavians.”
13 - Annala Uladh, 1887.
14 - Avalon Project, 2008.
Óðrœrir 10
first reported to have established a settlement at Dublin, we see them called dubh-gaill and dubh-genti.
They are referred to as Norððmanna occasionally albeit rarely after 836 but this is clearly introduced by
the Anglo Saxons as it is an Anglo Saxon word. Only once, in 989, are they referred to as Danes. Both
gentilibur and gaill (with its derivatives) are used to demonstrate the Danes status as “outsiders to the
community/religion”, and while they were used to refer to any foreign group of people, by and large they
become associated with the Danes, who are referenced with greater frequency through the 9th century, and
who were heavily impacting the social and political landscape. Before 830 we see the words gentile and
gaill used most often in reference to them, over other “foreign” groups at the time. After 830, when the
Danes had become a considerable threat and had forced the different English factions to bury their residual
differences or all be conquered, we see a notable spike in the term’s usage. In just 10 years, between 830
and 840, the use of the terms gentili and gaill double what they had been for the preceding thirty seven
years. Over the course of the 830’s through 900, entries concerning the invading Danes dominate the
annals and demonstrate how serious a presence they had become.15
The same overall pattern exists in the Anglo Saxon Chronicles. Prior to the 830’s we only see three
entries regarding the Danes. Two of these entries call them hæþen and one in 787 refers to them as
Norðmanna from Hæreðalande, the land of thieves. Between 830 and 890 we see them referenced nearly
thirty more times, interchangeably referred to as hæþen and Dæniscan. The word hæþen appears for the
final time in the chronicle in the entry for 871 regarding a series of battles between the Dæniscan and their
hæþen kings, after which peace treaties were signed.
It is likely that the Anglo Saxon chronicler used the Ulster Annals or related documents as a source
in his compilation, and we see the word heathen used as a gloss for gentili and any other word which
signified “foreignness” to both country and religion. However, over the course of nearly a century of
continual struggle against invading Danish armies and reavers, these words had developed a connotation
with the Danes specifically. In the Ulster Annals, after they had begun to settle and clearly had established
cordial relationships with some of the island’s factions, they were still unable to shake free from their
association with “othernesss”. Instead of being properly called Danes, they were referred to as dubh-gaill
to specify them from other gaill. Likewise, to the Anglo Saxons, hæþen and Dæniscan had developed
to become implicative of one another. As the term had now come to designate a specific people and had
essentially “acquired a face for the name,” it had also become indicative of the customs and practices of
the Danish people in particular.
The word heathen only appears in the recorded Anglo Saxon laws after the conversion of the Danes
when king Guthrum signed for peace with Alfred of Wessex. The very earliest that we see the word actually
written and not backdated is in 826 where it appears in the Charter of Ecgberht from that year.16 Recorded
Anglo Saxon law extends back into the early 7th century in the oldest vernacular laws of Æthelberht.
Between the 7th century and the Danish invasion in the 9th, multiple laws were enacted to attempt to bring
the Anglo Saxon people more in line with Ecclesiastical Canons and to extinguish indigenous, unchristian
religious practices. These practices are described, for example, as witchcraft, auguries, sacrificing or
making oaths on wells, stones, and trees, as well as incantations other than Christian prayers.17 The Laws
of Withraed (690) record “fines inflicted on those who offer to devils,”18 and they appear in 8th century
Canon Law. Despite the detailed descriptions of these forbidden practices, they were never actually given
a label in vernacular until immediately after the conversion of the Danish King Guthrum in 878, where
15 - The recorded tallies between these two sources are the result of this author’s own research.
16 - OED, 1989.
17 - Thorpe, Vol1. 2004.
18 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 11
the word hæþen first appears in the Laws of Alfred and Guthrum written into the treaty which established
peace between the Danes and the Anglo Saxons. Prior to this point it had only ever been used as an
Anglo Saxon vernacular gloss of Latin and Gaelic texts. It was in reference to foreigners and Danes who
were religiously and physically outside of the Christian world. Now it is written into a treaty intended,
on behalf of Anglo Saxons, to bring those Danes of the Danelaw out of dangerous “otherness” and into
Christendom. Edward, the son of Alfred has the treaty recorded in the preamble to his own laws recorded
later in 901; “they would love one God, and zealously renounce every kind of hæðenðom.”19 In his own
laws Edward includes the doom: “If anyone violate Christianity or reverence hæðenðom, by words or by
work, let him pay as well ‘were’, as ‘wite’ or ‘lah-slit,’ according as the deed may be.”20
Once the Danes had been brought into the folds of the Christian world, we see hæðenðom used in
contemporary law specifically targeting Danish religious practice. While Anglo Saxon kings had previously
attempted to put an end to the indigenous religious practices that had existed among the populace, it wasn’t
until now that those illegal practices were given a label: Hæðenðom.
Kings and ecclesia continued to further define that label in order to help eradicate those practices, and
the definition of the word Hæðenðom was given greater specificity within the Anglo Saxon law codes.
Dooms are enacted throughout them forbidding the practices of wil-weorþunga (well-worship), stanweorþunga (stone worship), treow-weorþunga (tree worship), and idola weoþunga (idol worship). All of
these now fall under the definition of “hæðenðom.” The canons of King Edgar (959) state:
We enjoin, that every priest zealously promote Christianity, and totally
extinguish every heathenism; and forbid well worshipings, and necromancies
(lic-wiglunga), and divinations (Hwata), and enchantments (galdra), and
man worshipping, and the vain practices which are carried on with various
spells, and with “frithsplots”, and with elders, and also with various other
trees, and with stones, and with many various delusions, with which men do
much of what they should not.21
The laws of the Northumbrian Priests give a similar description:
If then anyone be found that shall henceforth practice any heathenship
(hæðenscipe), either by sacrifice or by “fyrt”, or in any way love witchcraft
(wicce-cræft), or worship idols, if he be a king’s thane, let him pay X halfmarks; half to Christ, half to the king. We are all to love and worship one God,
and strictly hold one Christianity, and totally renounce all heathenship.22
The Anglo Saxon laws of the eleventh century Danish king, Cnut attempts to actively define the word
“hæðenscipe”:
We forbeódað eornostlice ælene hæðenscipe. Hæðenscipe bið ðæt man
idola weorðige ðæt is ðæt man weorðige hæðene godas and sunnan oððe
mónan fýr oððe flod wæter-wýllas oððe stanas oððe æniges cýnnes wúðutreowa. Oððe wicce-cræft lufige. Oððe morð-weore ge-fremme. On ænige
wisan. Oððe on blote oððe on fýrhté oððe on swýlerá gedwiméra ænig
19 - Ibid.
20 - Ibid.
21 - Ibid.
22 - Thorpe, Vol 2. 2004.
Óðrœrir 12
þing dreoge.
We earnestly forbid all heathenism. Heathenism is that men worship idols;
that is, that they worship heathen gods, and the sun or the moon, fire or
rivers, water-wells or stones…or forest trees of any kind, or love witchcraft,
or promote murder-work in any wise; or by ‘blot’ or by divination; or
perform anything pertaining to such illusions.23
With Cnut’s definition, hæðen had evolved to fully represent the indigenous religious practices of the
Danes, as well as those of all the peoples of northern Europe who were still to be Christianized. The
word’s original meaning of “foreigner” was essentially lost, and it had taken on a much more specialized
definition which most closely sums up the “religions” of the Germanic people. Over the course of the next
several hundred years this definition will become solidified in the vernacular writings throughout northern
Europe and Scandinavia. The Anglo Saxon epic Beowulf describes the practices of the Danes as hǽþen.24
The Scandinavian sagas and poems which make up the largest body of literature we have pertaining to old
Nordic religion, all use the cognate heiðni. Within these writings, the word heathen always relates to the
“old religion”.
The collective body of literature that was composed in Iceland during the 13th century, not only marks
the end of the period which this article investigates. It provides some of the finest examples of how the
term had come to be used to describe specific people and their religious practices. One of the primary
reasons for this is that a good deal of sagaic subject matter relates to the period of intense religious
conflict and change that Norway and Iceland experienced, during the tenth century. Norwegian kings and
chieftains were forced to address the pressing Christian religion, which eventually took a foothold within
the courts of the king. Christianity in turn was forced to reconcile with the reality of a predominantly
heathen Norway. Members of both religions served in the courts of kings such as Hákon the Good where
politics between the two groups played out and were brought into contrast with one another.
Writing about Hákon’s death in Heimskringla, Snorri Sturluson depicts one of the most vivid scenes
regarding the two religions:
En þótt mér verði lífs auðit, segir hann, þá mun ek af landi fara ok til kristinna
manna, ok bœta þat, er ek hefi brotit við guð; en ef ek dey hér í heiðni, þá
veiti mér þann gröpt er yðr sýnist. Litlu síðar andaðist Hákon konungr þar á
hellunni, sem hann hafði fœddr verit…. ok urpu þar haug mikinn ok lögðu
þar í konung með alvæpni sitt ok hinn bezta búnað sinn, en ekki fé annat.
Mæltu þeir svá fyrir grepti hans, sem heiðinna manna siðr var til, vísuðu
honum til Valhallar.25
“If I be granted to live,” (Hákon) said, “I would leave the country to abide
among Christians and do penance for what I have sinned against God. But
if I die here, among heathens, then give me such a burial place as seems
most fitting to you.’ And a short while afterwards king Hákon died on the
same slab of rock where he was born…They raised a great mound and in
it buried the king in full armor and in his finest array, but with no other
23 - Thorpe, V1. 2004.
24 - Heaney, 2000.
25 - Linder, 1872.
Óðrœrir 13
valuables. Words were spoken over his grave according to the custom of
heathen men, and they put him on the way to Valhalla.26
The Saga of Hákon the Good, while written in the 13th century, demonstrates that the term heathen
specifically referred to the old religion within the minds of 13th century Icelanders. Its definition had
changed little since it had been developed and put into writing in England during the 10th century, but it
had spread and become saturated into the linguistic culture of the North. The term had grown out of and
had developed contemporarily with the people that it came to refer to. By the time Scandinavia had been
integrated into what was at this point in history becoming a European identity of “Christendom”, the older
traditions were likewise identifiable as “heathen.”
Thus far, I have traced the use and context of the word “heathen” as it developed throughout the
time period that the indigenous religious practices of the Germanic and Scandinavian people would have
existed, thrived, come into contact with, and subsequently struggled against the condemnation and strict
legal restrictions of Christian church and kings, Both of which tried ceaselessly to eliminate these practices
with one hand while recording their own perspective on them with the other. These are the people who we
have looked to for information regarding native Germanic religion, and they have painted history in their
own light. The context that we have investigated the word “heathen” from has been an entirely Christian
perspective. After all, the word was developed and defined from the Christian side of the fence, but it still
only provides us with one side of a two party dialogue. Christian kings, churchmen, and writers came to
describe the people of northern Europe as “heathens,” and had no interest in intentionally preserving a fair
reaction from those people. The remainder of this article is an attempt to give a voice to the other side of
the conversation. To provide some clues as to what the term might have meant to the people that we see
referred to as heathen. To try and suggest any perspective by a people over a large period of time, who
had no way or recording their own words is of course, inherently theoretical. We have nothing written
by heathen hands which may tell us how they reacted to the Christian-dubbed moniker. However, this
investigation still offers valuable insight into some of the underlying heathen worldview and how it might
have affected individual peoples reaction to the term.
To the Goths and most other Germanic people, the word haiþnô was related to the haiþjôs (the heath)
and the literal meaning of the word haiþnô was “heath dweller.” I have already said that to the indigenous
Germanic people, the term “heath dweller” would have been synonymous within their culture as the
definition of gentili , someone of a foreign nation and religion to Latin speaking, Christian Romans.
While Ulfilas27 obviously had a Christian audience in mind when he penned his Gothic Bible, it must be
noted that these were not traditional Nicene Christians. They practiced a Christianity that would soon be
declared heretical, which was called Arianism. In many ways, we can look to Germanic people who had
converted to Arianism for assistance in understanding their native religious concepts. According to James
Russell’s Germanization of Early Medieval Christianity,28 when Ulfilas presented his bible to the Goths,
the majority of the people were not yet Christian and those who converted did so to Arianism:
Theology, specifically the Arian denial of the trinity mattered little to most Goths, Theodoric and the
nobility essentially viewed religion as a part of politics…the Ostrogoths as a people clung to Arianism for
political and social, not theological reasons.29
Arianism was their “national religion”, and was how they identified in order to maintain their own
26 - Hollander, 2009.
27 - For an interesting look at Wulfilas’ own religious change, see Hagith, “Ulfila’s Own Conversion” in The Harvard Theological Review.
28 - Russell, 1994.
29 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 14
culture, and so that they would not be absorbed into the universalism of the Roman Empire and rising
Catholicism. Furthermore, “Arianism was understandably slow to penetrate the elemental world of pagan
cult practice, long so much a part of agrarian life. Arianism allowed them to be Christians and hence, part
of the greater world of Romanitas without saking their Gothic pride or their ancestors. Arianism must be
understood as a tribal religion.”30 Ulfilas’ translation of the New Testament was fashioned to allow for the
natural Germanic state of a tribal, folk centered point of view.
This brings us to the native Germanic point of view. To the heathen Europeans or even early Christians,
“religion” was not simply a matter of personal belief and it was not as centralized as the invading Christian
belief system. It was very much local. It was tied directly to the community that practiced it. There is a
very real and very simple reason why this essay is concerned with the word “heathen” and not one which
better describes the native Germanic religious customs. They have left us no native name for their religion
with which we may refer to. What they have left us are concepts which help give a better depiction of
their religious worldview. The closest word we have relating to the Germanic religion is Old Norse
siðr.31 It has cognates in every old Germanic language and refers dually to the customs and the religion
of a people. Both of these entities are subsequently tied to the laws of a people. Simply put, the siðr of a
Germanic tribe are what define their social mores, their “right and wrong”, their morality and their identity
as a people. The native religion of the Germanic people was tied directly to their land and to their social
connections which shaped their siðr.
Since the Germanic concept of “religion” was inseparable from land, law, and community, it could be
understood in terms of both physical and conceptual boundaries, generally defined as garðs.32 Beyond the
boundaries of a people’s recognized community or territory, their religion no longer existed because their
laws, customs and identity no longer existed. A foreigner in this context would be beyond a community’s
siðr in every way, and siðr is as close a concept for religion as the heathen Germanic people have left us
This information puts the word “heathen” in a different context. A “heath dweller” to a member of an
early Germanic tribe would not simply be an individual living in the country. That individual would be a
foreigner, outside of their cultural identity, their customs, their laws, and their morality. That individual
would dwell beyond the garðs where their gods dwelt, their ancestors had developed, and their siðr
maintained. It is no wonder Germanic Christians wielded this word against those which were both foreign
and outside of Christianity. The invading Danes were indeed “heathens” to the Anglo Saxons. However,
this understanding of the word does not seem to promote a group of people like the Danes or anyone else
actually calling themselves “heathen”. Yet evidence suggests that at least in some circles, they did.
Returning to the middle of the 9th century, to the death of Hákon the Good and the events in Norway that
followed his death, we can get a more spectacular glimpse at the point of view of unconverted Norwegians
than through the prose of 13th century Icelanders. An impressive collection of skaldic poetry is preserved
within the sagas that pertain to this period. Since skaldic poetry was composed in stylized, alliterative
verse, it preserves in oral tradition much easier than prose, and many of the poems are attributed to the
skalds within the sagas, and not the writer of the saga themselves. Through skaldic poetry, we are given
the opportunity to study the closest thing to genuine heathen language outside of runestones. Within the
preserved collection of skaldic poetry, there are multiple occasions on which the term “heathen” is used.
Eyvindr Finnsson Skáldaspillir33 was one such skald who, among others, served at the court of Hákon
30 - Ibid.
31 - Hoops, Johannes. Beck, Heinrich. Reallexikon der germanischen Altertumskunde, Volume 28. Berlin. Walter de Gruyter; 2nd Revised
edition; 2005.
32 - Hastrup, 1985: See also Vikstrand, 2006.
33 - Pulsiano and Wolf,1993
Óðrœrir 15
the Good. Two of Eyvindr’s poems and fourteen single stanzas have been preserved, and one of them,
Hákonarmál was written in dedication to Hákon after he was killed in the battle of Storð around 961. 34
While Hákon was a Christian, Eyvindr was a heathen, and in a twist of fate, his dedication poem to Hákon
sends the dead king off to Valhalla. In the final lines, the poem reads:
Deyr fé. Deyja frændr, eyðist land ok láð; síz Hákon fór með heiðin goð, mörg er þjóð um þjáð.
Cattle die
Kinsmen die,
Land and lieges are whelmed;
ever since Hákon
to the heathen gods fared,
Many a liege is laid low.35
This is the earliest appearance of the word heiðinn in Old Norse that we have preserved. According to
Christopher Abram:
The fact that Eyvindr felt the need to specify the gods were ‘heathen’
seems to indicate a new awareness that there were alternatives to traditional
paganism. This term asserts the pagans’ identity as a religious group, but
such an assertion of identity would hardly be necessary if their own religion
was the only one they knew about.36
There are at least two other appearances of the word heiðinn within skaldic poetry that allegedly date
before 1000. Hallfreðr Vandræðaskáld makes use of it in lausavísa 837 and Tindr Hallkelsson uses it in a
fragment of a drápa about Jarl Hákon.38 The authenticity of single verses such as these two later examples
is probably more questionable, but combined they provide solid evidence that Eyvind’s Hákonarmál is not
an isolated instance where the term is used as a self identifier by heathens.
All three poets would be a part of Jarl Hákon Sigurðarson’s retinue following the deaths of King
Hákon the Good and Harald Greycloak. Jarl Hákon was not only a powerful ruler, but he was a heathen
who sought to reestablish the old religion’s dominance in Norway. This was a period when Christianity
was pressing in from all sides, creating an environment of constant pressure and conflict with the native
Norwegian religion. The courts of Jarl Hákon were hyper aware of their heathenism, and they sought to
bolster and entrench it. As previously stated, they had never needed a name to contrast themselves with
before the encroachment of Christianity. It seems very reasonable that at least within the courts of kings
and poets, where the new and old religions competed for power, adherents to the old religion required
a name for their identity which they could fix into the lexicon. They appear to have chosen heiðinn.
This reaction to the perceived threat of Christianity is reminiscent of the appearance of Mjölnir pendants
throughout Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, in areas where Christianity was most prevalent, and was
likely a heathen reaction to the threat of the cross.
It cannot be said how the men and women who populated the communities and farmsteads that were
miles removed from the halls of kings might have reacted to the label they were given. All we have is
the information presented to speculate with, and it might well have been an individual or communal
34 - Schultz, 1872.
35 - Ibid.
36 - Abram, 2011.
37 - Pulsiano, Wolf, 1993
38 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 16
issue. After all, these were active, breathing communities of men, women and children living in a time of
tremendous change over which they had little control. People would have reacted individually. We must
remember that even our skaldic examples, even if they are in their original form, express the words of one
man, composing for a specific audience.
Heathen is a word that would not have been necessary as a descriptor but for Christianity, and yet I
cannot provide any better substitute. It may make more cultural sense to identify heathen people by their
clan names, or the regions and cults they belonged to, than to sum them all together under one identity.
However, in general there was clearly an overarching socio-religious structure which tied the various preChristian Germanic people together into a commonality which must be recognized as something for the
purpose of distinguishing it from Christianity and other religions as well. We seem to have stuck with
the term heathen, despite the connotations it holds. Those people of western and northern Europe who
retained their native beliefs are then lumped together as heathen and distinguished from one another with
their tribe or regional name which would have been closer to the name of their religion. While the term is
ingrained in the history of northern Europe’s conflict with Christianity, if one understands that history and
the context with which the word developed, it may not be a bad thing.
Óðrœrir 17
Establishing the Innangard
Some Concepts Relating to Custom, Morality and Religion
•
By Joshua Rood
As modern heathens who have dedicated our lives to reestablishing the pre-Christian traditions of
Scandinavia and Northern Europe, we know how important the concept of heathen worldview is. It’s well
understood that in order to develop practices that are rooted in ancient heathen religion, we need to be
able to understand and adopt the outlook that heathen peoples may have held.1 This requires recognition
of part of the spatial and cosmological landscape that helped shape heathen societies. This landscape is
essential to comprehending every other bit of mythological and cultural information, because the protocol
for religion, custom, and morality was built into it. The concepts and basic layout presented here can be
used to establish part of the foundation for a working modern heathen worldview, from which lore and
academia may be processed and applied, and modern traditions may be developed.
Innangarð ad Utangarð
For the Germanic peoples, space as it is encountered and perceived in the
created worlds of men and other beings, exists, to any significant degree
only as a location or container for the occurrence of action…whether of
individual men, of men acting in consort or in opposition, of men and
monsters, or whatever. In all cases, immediate actions are discontinuous
and separable deriving power and structure from the past.2
From a modern perspective, concepts like religion and accompanying ideas like cosmology, morality,
and holiness are universal and world encompassing. If there is divinity, it is generally seen as either
omnipresent, or beyond this world. Morality is universally applicable, and determined through this
perceived divinity and a personalized individual relationship between it and those who believe in it.
This was not the case in heathen Scandinavia or central and western Europe, where the model for their
cosmological, cultural, and political systems were intimately bound to the immediate geographical and
social terrain. In general, the heathen Europeans recognized space, societies, and action as belonging
within identified boundaries.3 Religion and concepts of holiness would have also been tied to physical
and social locality. In many ways, these systems correlated with geographic enclosures, represented as
physical plots. The common word used to designate these plots appears as Old Norse garðr, Old English
geard, and even modern English yard. The original meaning of the word was ‘wall or hedge’, and it
evolved to indicate an enclosure, plot of ground or space in relation to that wall.4
The cosmological places retained in Norse literature such as Ásgarðr, Miðgarðr, Útgarðr can easily be
understood in relation to the walls (either symbolically or literally) that distinguish their contained space
from ‘other’ space. Asgard5 is the enclosure that contains the collective Æsir. Midgard (middle enclosure)
1 - See Rood, 2011.
2 - Bauschatz, 1982.
3 - Ibid.
4 - Oxford English Dictionary, 1989.
5 - Due to the variety of languages and forms that many of the names and terms covered in this paper appear in, I have decided to present
Óðrœrir 18
most simply means the enclosure that contains the inhabited world. Utgard, specifically referring to Eddic
poetry, could refer to the outer enclosure surrounding Midgard. While these mythological spaces may
have been universally recognized to some degree, they would not have been the cosmological centerpiece
of the heathen Scandinavians, and they certainly would not have been the foundation of their religious
worldview. Aside from concerns regarding Christianization of the literature, the preserved mythology
does not accurately represent the layout of the heathen cosmology when taken at face value for numerous
reasons. Firstly, skalds shaped poetry to fit their specific agenda and target audience (most often an
aristocratic court). Many poems that we have preserved are as much or more of a social commentary as
they are a reflection of religious belief. Secondly, the mythology that we have only represents a fraction of
the body of mythos that would have existed among heathen peoples. Icelandic poetry primarily represents
Icelandic cosmology, shaped through the eyes of the skald who presents it. It does not necessarily
represent, for example, Vendil, Trondheim, Wessex or Jutish myth. While concepts of Asgard, Midgard,
and Utgard existed in some form among these people, they are only a fraction of what would have been
in the background of heathen religious focus. Individual groups would have been focused on a more
specific, more locally relevant microcosm.
The mythological landscape to the heathen was not centered around a universal depiction of “The world
of men, surrounded by the world of the unknown, and looked after by the world of the gods, whom men
seek out for help.” The center of their world can more accurately be related to the garðs that surrounded
the cultivated and orderly safety of their given community, and separated it from the world beyond. In
most cases this borderline was drawn between the farmstead as the center of the world, and the outlying
lands surrounding it as periphery.6 Hastrup refers to these counter spaces as they appear in Iceland as “inni
and úti, innangarð and útangarð,”7 and elaborates that these two spaces should be understood as being
that which lies within the controlled space of close-knit social relations’ and that which is outside of it.
The identification of these boundaries may have at times been represented with physical enclosures, but
were by no means geographically fixed. Innangard and utangard were primarily conceptual, and created
distinct semantic spaces in relation to one another.
Utgard is not simply a name for the fixed space beyond Midgard, the world of men. It has a much more
personal, much more important place within heathen worldview. Per Vikstrand points out that it is widely
used throughout Scandinavian languages and implies “An outlying farmstead, dependent on or owned by
another, more central farm or village,” or “the fences delimiting the inlying fields of a village from the
outlying fields.”8 In Swedish dialects, there are epithets such as utgårds, utangårds, and utangårding,
which contextually mean “not from our farm; from somewhere else.”9 That which was utangard was that
which was beyond the semantic barrier that separated it from a person’s social community upon which they
were dependant and which was dependent upon them. A wide range of beings, from landvættir to jötnar
to trölls, from wolves to deer could inhabit a community’s utangards. They would have been perceived
as uncontrolled, uncultivated, and wild. Also dwelling in the utangards were people and other established
communities with their own innangard and utangard. They, like anything else beyond a person’s familiar
community, were constantly interacted with for better or worse. However, they were semantically separate
them in the form that their sources provide, and then I will often standardize them in an Anglicized version. This is only for the sake of
consistency in this paper, and the reader should always be aware of the variation that words and names appear in.
6 - Hastrup, 1985.
7 - Referring to peripheral land as “Útangarð” as opposed to “Utangarð” is most likely a mistake on Hastrup’s part. While Útgarð is an
accurate spelling for the mythological realm, on earth the concept of “outer” in Iceland is referred to as “Utangarð”. I kept her spelling
for her own quote at least.
8 - Vikstrand, 2006.
9 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 19
from an individual’s own inner yard.
Within the innangard of a community lay its laws, its social mores, and the expression of its identified
religion. These concepts were intimately intertwined, and in many cases can hardly be distinguished from
one another. The law of a community was coterminous with its traditional customs, which were often
religious in nature. These customs gave a community its identity, sanctified its religion, and reaffirmed its
laws. The geographical landscape of a community specifically shaped those religio-political traditions,
and formed the foundation that they were developed from. Local sovereignty was so important that kings
who sought to rule vast territories were required to participate in regional religious events, even while they
tried to consolidate their own religious and political control.
The barriers between communities were never static. They shifted with the social, political, and
religious winds. People and groups could become part of the recognized innangard of a community, or
they could leave it. Communities could split or they could merge. One of the prime purposes of marriage
was to join two communities. Religio-political ceremonies such as sumbl (OE symbel) were intended to
bind groups of otherwise unrelated people (usually warriors and aristocrats) into fictive kinship.10
In Iceland, outlawry literally entailed going outside of that established community. An outlaw existed
beyond the protective confines of a settlement, as defined by the word for greater outlawery, skóggangr
(lit. ‘forest-going’). Skóggarmenn were equated with the otherness beyond the community, which meant
that they existed outside of the laws, customs, and religion. At the Icelandic Althing of the year 1000,
the heathens and Christians declared themselves to be ýr lögum “out of law” with each other.11 Hedeager
speculates that part of the supernatural qualities attributed to smiths, artisans and travelling religious
experts (shamans) are derived from the perception that they travel between the cultivated and settled
spaces and the wild and dangerous territories of the utangards.12 Hastrup suggests that the berserkr (bearshirt), who were often outlawed, moved from the social space of a community into the “other” space that
is beyond it when his mind shifted and berserksgangr came over him.
While heathen society held a shared heritage, and certainly there were wide spread myths, beliefs, and
customs, they were expressed within the confines of, and in regard to the well being of specific recognized
communities. The nature of this expression of religious and political custom can be clearly demonstrated
in the heathen notion of “religion” and “holy”.
Sidu: The morality of tradition.
The Common Germanic term sidu, with equivalents as Old Norse siðr, Gothic sidus, Old English
sidu, seodu, siodu, Old High German situ, sito, and with modern equivalents in every Germanic language
except English, is the closest word we have to “religion” in old Germanic languages.13 Likewise, it
refers to concepts of ritual, tradition, custom and law. All of these are culturally circumscribed, and it
cannot properly be translated as any one of these terms without losing a great deal of its context. Siðr
is found in Old Norse prose texts, and throughout medieval laws and skaldic poetry. In prose literature,
siðr is attested in religious and ritual contexts regarding pre-Christian Scandinavia, but it also refers to
morality, and proper behavior. Snorri Sturlusson describes the sacrificial cult in Trondheim, Norway in
the following terms:
Þat var forn siðr, þá er blót skyldi vera, at allir bœndr skyldu þar koma sem
10 - Enright, 1996.
11 - Hastrup, 1985.
12 - Hedeager,2002.
13 - Hoops, 2005.
Óðrœrir 20
hof var ok flytja þannug föng sín, þau er þeir skyldu hafa, meðan veizlan
stóð.
It was ancient custom/ritual that when sacrifice was made, all farmers were
to come to the hof and bring along with them the food they needed while
the feast lasted.14
The account describes the public sacrificial rituals, the holy objects and the participants in the cult
activity all as a part of forn siðr (ancient religious custom). The religious rituals of the Norwegian
colonists performing land-taking rites in Iceland are also called forn siðr. Vatnsdœla saga relates that
Sæmundr landed in Skagafjörður, where land was unsettled in every direction. “He set out carrying fire in
accordance with the old custom/ritual (at fornum sið) and laid claim to land…”15 It has been suggested that
the purpose of these rituals was to symbolically transform unknown, unoccupied territory into habitable
land with structures, form and norms. If this is true, it would have symbolically established the boundaries
that separated the newly established innangard from the surrounding wilderness.16
The term is often used to describe the religious activity concerning death ceremonies. Eyrbyggja saga
mentions the last services to the dead which Arnkell had rendered to his father Þórólf. Wrapping cloth
around his father’s head, he “got him ready for burial according to the siðvenju of the time.”17 Snorri uses
the term siðvenja when describing the rituals of the funeral and inheritance feast after the death of King
Önundr Yngvarsson, which included libation ceremonies, oathing, and the entering of the high-seat as part
of a ritual.18 In Yngingla saga, the practice of raising burial mounds for notable men and holding specific
yearly sacrifice are also referred to as the siðr in that land.19 In Hákonar góða saga, after the king had
died, Snorri relates that:
Mæltu þeir svá fyrir grepti hans, sem heiðinna manna siðr var til, vísuðu
honum til Valhallar.
Words were spoken over his grave according the siðr of heathen men,
sending him to Valhalla.20
The term siðr is used for ‘religion, belief, and faith’ in a general sense as well, and did not always
imply a form of action. Ancient religious customs/heathen practices (hinn forni siðr/ heiðinn siðr) are
contrasted with Christian liturgy and beliefs (hinn nýi siðr(new custom)/kristinn siðr).21 Throughout the
sagas, heathen religion is referred to as heiðinn siðr. In Óláfsdrápa Tryggvasonar, the skald praises the
king for supposedly turning the people away from the doubtful siðr and who had rejected wicked gods (fra
vondum sið ok nitti illum godum).22 In Laxdæla saga, Gest explains one of Gudrun’s dreams:
en nær er þat mínu hugboði, at í þat mund muni orðit siðaskipti, ok muni
sá þinn bóndi hafa tekit við þeim sið, er vér hyggjum, at miklu sé háleitari.
14 - Hollander, 2009; Linder, 1872.
15 - Vatnsdæla Saga, Icelandic Saga Database, sagadb.org.
16 - Hoops and Beck, 2005
17 - Eyrbyggja Saga, Icelandic Saga Database, sagadb.org.
18 - Hollander 2009; Schultz 1872.
19 - Ibid.
20 - Ibid.
21 - Hoops and Beck, 2005.
22 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 21
My mind forbodes me that by the time a siðaskipti (change of faith/belief)
will have come about and your husband will have taken the sið (faith/belief)
which we are minded to think is the more exalted.23
Not only did sidu embody the customs and religion of a particular people in a particular land, but it was
also the common word used as a description of morality. In the Eddic poem Helgaqviða Hundingsbana
in fyrri, Sinfjötli accuses Guðmundr of being siðlauss (indecent or without morals).24 It’s used to refer to
exemplary military conduct, such as bravery. When Óláfr Tryggvason is said to have fought alone against
two brave kings and one jarl, he became renowned for such conduct (til sliks siðar). The same word that
identified the customs of a people was so powerfully tied to their ideas of morality, that from the 12th
to the 15th century it appears in Icelandic texts that describe Christian virtues. In the Harmsól it’s used
to describe Christ’s purity. “þvít hugga fríðir hug mínn siðir þínir,”25 “Because you comfort my mind
with your sweet virtues/purity.”26 In contrast, we can find an example in Hugsvinnsmál where it refers to
immorality, or poor character.
Eigi skalt þegja,
þótt sér þess beðinn,
yfir annars ósiðum27
You must not keep silent,
even when asked to be,
about another’s poor ways/immorality28
Its use to define morality is most obvious in the Old English word sedeful/sideful/sidefulle, which
survives into the late Middle English period, and appears in multiple original and translated works as
something akin to “full of virtue, morality, good customs.” Literally it can be defined as “full of sidu.”
Ælfric of Eynsham uses it in his Homilies to describe Christ.
Þa betwux ðisum eode eall þaet folc to Egeas bottle, ealle samod clypigende
and eweðende, þæt swa halig wer hangian ne sceolde; sidefull mann
Then in the meanwhile all the folk went to the house of Ægeas, all crying
together and saying, that so holy a man ought not to hang; a man strict of
conduct, full of pure morals29
The sidu of a particular people was their customs, which expressed their religion and defined their
social mores. It was their word for ‘morality,’30 their “right and wrong.” It directly reflects the native
German perspective of religious morality. Their “right and wrong” was not a matter of judgment which
the gods bestowed on individuals for abiding by universally ordained codes. It was proper action within
a community, and it was that community that defined what “proper and improper” action entailed through
23 - Laxdæla saga.
24 - Hoops, and Beck, 2005
25 - Harmsól
26 - Translated by this author with the help of Georg Pétur Sveinbjörnsson.
27 - Hugsvinnsmál
28 - Rood, Georg Pétur Sveinbjörnsson 2011.
29 - Thorpe, 1844. Quote edited by this author.
30 - Literally the English word “morality” and the term “social mores” has taken the place of the word sidu after it had become defunct in
the English language.
Óðrœrir 22
the establishment of customs which were an expression of religious belief. Sidu was tied directly to a
people’s land and social connections, and it identified them and their religion. By preserving custom, a
community preserved and strengthened their identity and their social order. At the center of this identity
were established gods, ancestors and local wights, who shaped the wholeness and health of that community.
Holiness; established and maintained
Like sidu, holiness was not universal or all permeating. It also wasn’t a state of purity, contained in a
far-off otherworld. It was something that could be established and cultivated within earthly boundaries and
maintained by specific communities. In Old English a friðgeard/friðsplot (frith yard), and in Scandinavia
a Stavgård (stave-yard) was a space that was set aside as sacred.31 Like the parameters of a community,
this space could be, and often was marked off, physically designating it from space beyond its boundaries.
Christian law forbade the creation or worship of these sites, specifically around groves, wells and mounds.
The commonly used term to designate sacred space is CG wíh, ON vé, which was widely applied to words
for cult centers, temples sites, idols, and mounds. We see it in the ON term véar, meaning “gods,” and it
implied holiness set into a physical place, and separated from the surrounding world. Wíh did not have
to be strictly associated with natural locations. According to Charlotte Fabech, during the Migration
Period the hall and hof (building used as a temple) with hörgr (altar fashioned form piled stones) and idols
were as sacrosanct as natural spaces. Hedeager points to the hall and the close-lying hof as being the
cosmological, social, and political center of the Gudme settlement. Terry Gunnell argues that the rising
power of the aristocracy, tied to the Odin cult, brought numinosity out of natural vé spaces and into the
hall at the center of society.32 What matters in all of these cases is not whether a space is naturally holy,
but rather that they are all given a hallowed nature that is manifest in their specific location.33
The holiness of the wíh appears to be determined similarly to the sidu of the community. It is validated
through repeated ritual action which reaffirms the tradition and identity of the group participating, and
further cultivates the holiness of that space. The ritual action in these places can be defined as worship. It
is expressed in the ON term dýrr, Danish dýrka which not only means “to honor”, but also “to cultivate, to
reaffirm, to establish.”34 Likewise, OE weorðian (worship)35 means “to glorify,” as well as “to decorate, to
give worth (weorþ) to,” and “to grow.”36 To worship something is to reaffirm and build on its worth and its
holiness, perhaps by decorating it or through words and actions. The sagas and traveler’s accounts tell us
that within sanctuaries, idols were furnished with gold and silver rings and other ornaments. Likewise, the
temples were covered with gold. Adam of Bremen describes the holy grove at Uppsala as being filled with
the hanged bodies of animals and people, which defined its sacredness.37 How many of these descriptions
are exaggeration, we cannot be sure. However, archeologists have excavated a tremendous wealth of what
has been identified as the remains of sacrifices.38 Approximately 100 tiny, golden, miniature boats were
31 - Fabech, 2006.
32 - Gunnell, 2007.
33 - Fabech, 2006.
34 - Fritzner, 1896.
35 - Bosworth, Joand Toller, 1972.
36 - We may note that the ON dýrr meaning “to cultivate” and the OE connection to growth both share a connection with cultivation. Obviously that which is cultivated resides within the familiar territories of a people, but I also find that it is a very appropriate description
for the maintenance of and development of a communities well being (luck/wholeness/health) through worship.
37 - Adam of Bremen claims that the grove is made sacred through the death and purification that took place in the grove. Whether or not
this is truly the case or Christian bias, the sacrifices that adorn the location do add to its sacredness.
38 - Not all hoards indicate religious ritual. Many have not been identified as being such, and it is always speculative as to whether or not
a find was religiously deposited, and why. Multiple circumstances must be taken into account, but recently more and more hoards that
have previously been identified as simple “treasure hoards” were in fact temple hoards. An example of this is the Hoen treasure found
Óðrœrir 23
discovered near Nors in Jutland.39 The remains of a hof at Tissø, Zealand contained a large gold ring,
along with many animal bones and multiple silver hoards. Similar cult sites with hoards have been found
in Tune in Gotland where more than 400 ring fragments have been discovered. At Borg in Östergötland
a cult house was found that held 98 amulet rings and 75kg of unburnt animal bones. A hörgr was found
within with 2 amulet rings on it. A silver hoard from Eketorp in Närke contained amulets, a snake pendant,
coins, and even a Mjölnir pendant which many modern pendants are modeled after. The biography of the
hoard estimates it at being active for 300 years. Likewise natural places identified as cult sites have been
found, for instance at the hills of Ravlunda, Scania, the mountains of Ålleberg, Västergötland and the bogs
of Hannenov, Denmark which all contain gold neck rings and deposited coins.40 Hedeager relates that the
settlement of Gudme in Denmark is not only surrounded by 3 hills with sacred names (Albjerg-hill of the
shrine, Gudbjerg-hill of the gods, Galbjerg-either hill of sacrifice or of galdr,) but that the great wealth
excavated there, including bracteates of an Odinic nature, coins, ornamented scabbard mounts and ingots
“indicate Gudme was not just a central place for trade, but one with sacred connotations.”
Deposits in sacred spaces consisted of religious objects, as well as monetary wealth and status symbols.
Most often, particularly when the sacred space was associated with a hall or a hof in the center of a
settlement it would be associated with the religio-political leader, and was contained in the same space
where communal binding rituals (sumbl, for example) would take place. These spaces were closely
associated with the history of that community, where objects were laid down, much like the law (ON lög,
literally “lay” as in “laid down”) that defined the tribe. They would have been religiously charged by the
continual acts of reciprocal exchange that took place there.41
We should also consider that what we archaeologically uncover are the remains of rituals, not the rituals
themselves. We know that animals were sacrificed, as we find their bones at cult sites, and we can assume
that there is some truth to the descriptions of cult ritual in the sagas, but we cannot determine the extent
of their accuracy. If the descriptions of blót are consistent with reality, then the spattering of blood on the
idols, rings, hörgr and pillars would be a part of the ritual action that is deposited in a holy place. Not
only is the blood literally layered upon the wood and stone, but the ritual action and the words spoken are
as well. The actual actions that took place and words spoken during cultic ritual are not deposited with
the bones of sacrificed animals and the votive offerings, but the sidu of a group is defined in many ways
through proper action during cultic ritual. What that specific action was would have varied from place to
place and from occasion to occasion, but in all ways it would have been an important designator of group
identity and socio-religious mores. In return for appropriate gifts and the correct observance of sidu,
which tied them to the living community, the beings honored, be they gods, ancestors, or local wights,
would grant gifts in return, including “holiness.”
Our word holy is derived from the adjective heilag (Gothic, OHG, OS and OE), and its original meaning
was “hale, healthful, whole.” As a noun it is found in OHG, OE and ON as heil/heill meaning “good
luck, the potential to prosper, to heal, fertility.” While these may all seem to be mundane qualities, they
define holiness, and it is a blessing from the gods, and which could attach itself to certain people, objects,
and places. Tacitus reports that the Suebi gathered in a sacred grove where they held sacrifice, and that
the figures and emblems which they took into battle were kept in that grove. Oath rings, which were
reportedly sacred and which all men were to swear oaths on are reported to have been kept inside of the
temple, and regularly reddened with blood. One meaning of the word heill is that of ‘amulet’, and it may
near the Drammen River in Norway. Charlotte Fabech talks more about this in her cited article.
39 - Simek, 2007.
40 - Fabech, 2006.
41 - Ibid. Also see Tarzia, 1989.
Óðrœrir 24
either be an object filled with holiness, or an omen, which we see often associated with sacrifices and
religious rites in the sagas.42 While holiness was a gift from the gods, it could also be taken away by them
through negligence of communal sidu, and improper gifts or performed rituals.
Even though they may have been set aside as manifested holiness, either due to the actions that took
place within their confines, or because of some perceived holiness already cultivated in that spot, places
of sacrifice would have been perceived within the community barriers. According to Fabech regarding
natural worship places (groves, bogs, hills); “It is characteristic that you can see the main settlement from
the find spot, and that the find spot is visible from the settlement. Thus they are natural elements in the
construction or cultivation of the central places. They are natural constituents of the arranged centre
complexes.” Geographically they tend to fall within the physical innangard of a settlement, which is broken
up by natural terrain. The centrally established settlement could organize the natural surroundings into
an ideal “religious” landscape. According to Hedeager, a community might often organize the settlement
and surrounding landscape as a microcosm of the Nordic cosmological world. Whether or not this was
literally the case, it certainly seems evident in locations such as Gudme and Odense (Odin’s Vé), which
have been argued to mirror the layout of Norse cosmology, and correlates more appropriately with our
understanding that the heathen religious world was a local microcosm of the greater Germanic cosmology.
Certainly not every aspect of a community was drawn on physical boundaries. Not every holy grove lay
directly beside a settlement. However, if a community identified with that grove, and carried out their
religious customs there, then it was a part of their perceived landscape and their innangard.
Conclusion
While the pre-Christian cultures of Northern and Central Europe held a shared religious heritage which
may be categorized as heathen, it would have manifested through unique, regional and local traditions,
myths, and social mores. The holy lake that the goddess Nerthus was bathed in was central to her holiness,
and to the identity of the tribes that were located in that region. The hills surrounding Gudme, and the
layout of the settlement reflected and reinforced the religious and cultural traditions of that community.
The Saxons had their sidu, and the Vendil had their siðr. We can infer a great deal concerning heathen
belief and tradition as a whole by investigating pan-Germanic religiosity, but we must also recognize
central role of region, locality and tribal/kin identity. Today we identify with, and strive to reestablish the
heathen religion of Europe, and this religiosity certainly has clear boundaries of what may and may not
be defined as “heathen.” We should be sure that our customs and social mores are consistent with those
that we are reviving. Consistency does not mean that we “emulate’, however. As we have seen, customs
should be relevant to a group’s immediate land and needs. We should develop customs that are tied to our
land and our local communities. We can look at, respect, and perhaps even honor local folklore and myths
in a “heathen fashion.” We should reestablish appropriate boundaries of innangard and utangard, not as
“human society” and “other.” Rather, we can identify those who belong to our close-knit community, our
family, our friends and neighbors, our kindred and tribe, and those that are not a part of that. We can infer
that morality isn’t drawn from emulating the gods43 as they appear in the myths we have, nor is it a “do as
42 - Green, 1998
43 - The gods certainly play an important role in our morality, but not through individual emulation of their actions and specific words. If
we keep the concepts of this article in mind, we can infer that specific actions and words from the gods are intended to benefit specific
communities in specific situations, and are also perceived through specific cultural models that are directly relevant to the upkeep of
an individual community. The gods are their own and do as gods will. If they established the oldest sidu, which was to benefit and
maintain their own tribe, its a group’s responsibility to do the same, and to establish a reciprocal relationship with their gods, in order
to maintain wholeness between them.
Óðrœrir 25
you will” concept. Ethics and matters of right and wrong should be tied to how a person benefits or harms
the well-being of their innangard, which should be beneficial to local and regional society, and in line with
federal and local law. Morality also entails the development and maintenance of proper customs and a
gifting relationship with the gods, ancestors, and wights that a group wishes to identify with. I call myself
a heathen, but it is more appropriate to identify myself as a member of my own specific kindred, which is
part of a greater regional community whose taboos, holidays, and customs I adhere to. There is a grove
that is maintained by a local family, and which is a big part of our identity as well as for a big portion of
the local heathen community. That grove is holy to us, and we hold sacrifices to the gods that we worship
there, and we gift and hold a close relationship with the family that tends it. We have idols that receive
offerings, and we have specific traditions regarding those idols that we abide by. There are local holidays
that are only celebrated by the heathen community in my region, and those holidays are dependent upon
our regional geography and seasons. Our customs are being passed on to our children, and continue to
develop organically, fused with our gods, our land, our ancestors and our neighborhoods. These living,
breathing, growing traditions stem directly out of the foundation of heathen worldview, as we have been
able to reconstruct it.
Óðrœrir 26
An artistic depiction of the microcosmic view of a single community. By Dan Oropallo.
Óðrœrir 27
Cult and Identity in
Modern Heathenry
•
By Shane Ricks
The pine that stands in the village
no bark or needles to cover it;
so is a man; that no one loves
Why shall he live long?
Hávamál, st. 50.1
The transition from the intellectual effort of reconstructing pre-Christian and conversion-era Germanic
worldviews and religiosity to a practical living religion can be a bit of a conundrum for modern heathens.
There are two extremes that find frequent and common commentary in modern heathenry. On one end of
the spectrum is the tendency for reconstructionist heathens to attempt to replicate cultic ritual precisely as
it is portrayed in the literary or archaeological remains. At the other end of the spectrum is the tendency
to create an entirely new ritual model that has no basis in historic heathenry whatsoever. As a matter of
necessity, most heathens fall somewhere in between2 and they often do so with remarkably little variation.
There is a number of reasons for this apparent lack of variation among average heathens. The combined
research efforts and tendency to share resources dealing with the limited nature of the data regarding these
subjects tend to result in homogeneity of models, terminology, and conclusions even when those involved
focus on different branches of the Germanic tribal tree.3 Another contribution to this is the taboo among
some heathens regarding speaking of the particulars of their own group’s thew. The most conservative of
heathens adopt the position that speaking of specific and/or personal religious experiences is strictly off
limits. On the other hand, the least conservative tend to share their experiences with everyone with little
regard to the appropriateness of their actions. The latter has acquired for themselves a negative reputation
among many reconstructionists. The result is an unwillingness to share personal variation in cult and the
tendency to shame those that do. This leads us back to the issue of sharing the same data and applying
them to the same models regardless of any individual focus or variation. This becomes the standard,
the core of heathen reconstruction that is used to measure the validity (which very nearly amounts to
conservativeness) of conclusions drawn and practical application of the results of reconstructionist efforts.
Reconstructionist groups that focus on a specific Germanic culture within a particular time frame
find themselves with the least data to work with. Their rituals often show little variation from those
portrayed in the sources. This is part of their dedication to reconstruct as accurately as possible the
culture’s worldviews and religiosity.4 The ability to reconstruct accurately is obviously limited by the data
1 - All translations are mine unless otherwise noted.
2 - The extant source material does not perfectly describe every ritual and situation of significance in the lives of historic or modern heathens. This results in the development of beliefs and behaviors reflecting those historically undocumented situations.
3 - Harvey Whitehouse, Modes of Religiosity: A Cognitive Theory of Religious Transmission (Altamira Press, 2004) and Oliver Roy, Holy
Ignorance: When Religion and Culture Part Ways (Columbia University Press, 2009) discuss the process of religious standardization
and formatting. Both standardization and formatting describe the dialogical process of adjusting and reforming of expressions of religiosity with the intent of making disparate conditions and resulting conclusions compatible and acceptable.
4 - Theodism is a modern reconstructionist religious movement that involves groups focusing on the reconstruction of specific Germanic
Óðrœrir 28
and therefore the robustness and uniqueness of their reconstruction becomes related to their willingness
to model elements of their reconstruction on elements from cultures and groups of varying degrees of
relatedness. Too strict a methodology leads to a lack of variety of ritual because the value and models for
many rituals go undocumented in the extant source material. Too liberal a methodology risks developing
a model that is only barely recognizable as being based in a particular culture’s thew.
Limited resources and shared information are not a problem for neo-heathen groups that create new
rituals from the ground up. Nonetheless, even these groups demonstrate a lack of variety. The models
which the new rituals are designed around are often the same; generally derived from those already
familiar to the individual, such as various denominations of Christianity, or those models common to many
modern alternative religious movements, such as Wicca and ceremonial magic groups. The robustness
and uniqueness of the rituals of these groups is only limited by the group’s creativity. Unfortunately very
little in the religious repertoire of these groups resembles anything that would be recognizable to historic
heathens. Often the only thing that ties these groups to historic thew is vocabulary, and many times the
modern meanings differ greatly from the historic as well.
None of these situations are overly problematic in their own right. What happens as a result is that
heathens appear to lack creativity and a willingness to develop their thew beyond the source material.
Where these situations do create an issue is in the establishment of identity and the survivability of
heathenry into the future.5 To all outsiders without specific knowledge of the groups in question, the
identities of all of these groups appear very similar. Once pressed for specifics, many of these groups will
define themselves, or be defined, by who they are not and what they do not do. In other words, their identity
becomes established through the association of negative statements. Outsiders seeking information on
heathenry will often find themselves confronted with many more statements of what a group is not and
what it does not do than who they are and what they actually do. These comparisons often come in the
form of contrasting or comparing heathenry with Christianity or one’s own group with other heathen
and non-heathen groups.6 Where statements of positive associations are encountered the statements are
often vague and perceived to be commonly identifiable elements of heathenry. As a result, identifying
with a particular group becomes inconsequential, as all groups appear essentially the same and perceived
commonality is shared with all groups.
These statements can be useful for a cursory introduction to a particular group’s brand of heathenry, but
do little to provide any real information about the group in question. Heathens are needed for heathenry
to survive. In order for would-be heathens to identify with other like-minded heathens, then identities
must be established and differences between group thew must be discernible and relevant to prospective
heathens.7 If heathens rely on negative statement associations as a means of demarcating identity from
other groups, prospective heathens will lose interest and no identity or thew will be established for the
cultures. For more information on Theodism and reconstruction see Shane Ricks, “Theodism and Retroheathenry.” Axenthof Thiad.
2009. Web. Nov. 2011. <http://www.axenthof.org/theodism_and_retroheathenry.html>.
5 - Abby Day, Religion and the Individual: Belief, Practice, Identity (Ashgate Publishing, 2008), 14.: “Underlying great people, the sacred
places marking ethnic, national or religious identity, or natural locales of ecological health, the issue of survival predominates. It is evident in long-standing and widespread graves that should not simply be viewed as memorials of the past but also as symbols of endurance, of the ongoing survival of a society, often in the link between ancestor and descendant that is perpetuated in the rites of ancestors
that are performed by the living. Survival, perhaps the foundational drive is as evident amongst human beings as amongst other animal
species and cultural intensification is a way of describing the social manifestation of biological life.”
6 - Jan Snoek, Similarity and Demarcation: Studies in Ritual Behavior (Brill Academic Pub, 1995), 53.: “…if there is a wish to distinguish
the in-group from an out-group, then greater similarity between the two groups will stimulate a stronger demarcation by the in-group.”
7 - See Karina V. Korostelina, Social Identity and Conflict: Structures, Dynamics, and Implications (Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), 25-6, for
further information regarding the dynamics of self-conception and social identity and categorization. Of particular importance is the
necessity of the salience of emotional, cognitive, and behavioral claims of the group with which the individual is identifying.
Óðrœrir 29
future. Maintaining an identity that relies on negative statement associations is only possible as long as
there are related groups from which the group in question can directly differentiate itself. The negative
statements retain value as statements of demarcation. Additionally, once the laundry list of negative
statement associations runs out, what remains for many heathen groups looks quite similar, being multiple
adoptions of the “heathen standard” mentioned above. This coupled with the fickle nature of men results
in a high turnover of membership as interests and associations change over time. The resulting anomie
often leads to the dissolution of the group and many times the religious conversion of those involved
towards what is hoped to be a more fulfilling religion and away from heathenry.8
To guarantee the survival of heathenry and heathen thew it is necessary to combat these trends.
Heathen thew, which includes cult and identity, needs to develop beyond the heathen standard while
maintaining its heathen origins. Since culture-specific and modernist neo-heathen groups are both limited
by their objective and vision, they are considered the extremes of reconstruction for the intent of this
piece. Therefore, this article will be directed at the average heathen who is involved in reconstructing
and applying historic heathen thew in a living and meaningful manner in their modern lives. The primary
claim of this article will be that there is no heathenry that is not relevant to the modern lives of heathens
in its expression. Examples will revolve around this expression of heathen worldview in a manner that
reflects and informs the lives and worlds of both historic and contemporary heathens. This will illustrate
that relying solely on a precise replication of imagined historic expression may cause modern heathenry
to take on a non-heathen quality.
Cult and Identity in the Historic World
Hwilum hie geheton æt hærgtrafum
wigweorþunga, wordum bædon,
þæt him gastbona geoce gefremede
wið þeodþreaum. Swylc wæs þeaw hyra,
hæþenra hyht
At times they promised to temple-sacrifices
idol worship, words prayed
that he life-bane, to grant safety
with people’s distress. Such was their custom
the hope of heathens.
Beowulf, lines 175-9.
Cult and identity in the world of Germanic heathens were dynamic plays defined by the actors involved, the
locations where they took place, and the history informing the participants. Traditional custom dictated the
proper expression of obligations towards three fundamental objects in the life of Germanic heathens: their
people, their land, and their gods. Maintaining these proven traditions was the foundation of Germanic
society. The particular characteristics defining the expression of these obligations and categories of
reciprocity delineated the hierarchy of identities or in-groups in which the individual held membership.
8 - Day, 8, states that “[l]ittle is to be gained by isolating the social facts constituted by values, beliefs and the social organization of life
from the psychological facts constituted by emotions and varieties of feeling states as is increasingly acknowledged within religious
studies at large, even though the formal study of emotions is, itself, in its early stages...the notion of ‘cultural intensification’ [is] a
means of fostering the integration of cognitive and affective streams of life.”
Óðrœrir 30
Some common methods of displaying different social identities in pre-Christian and conversion-era
Germanic Europe included food9, dress and facial hair10, law and ancestral land11, language12 and religion13.
The standardization of heathenry by reconstructionists is effectively creating what can easily be
construed as a modern official religion. As was pointed out above, all expressions of Germanic heathen
religiosity are weighed against this image of what is believed to constitute an accurate representation of
historic heathenry. As a result, popular religion and private religiosity are finding less and less commentary
and expression in larger groups and online forums. Where these forms of religious expression are being
discussed, the attempt is frequently made to bring their expression more in line with the developing
“official” heathen religion. This trend by individuals to make their private religiosity and by groups to
make their popular religion conform to the developing official religion runs counter to the data drawn from
the surviving Germanic mental, material, and behavioral cultures.
An historic example of official religion is the swearing of oaths on rings for legal purposes. Many of
the descriptions about the oath ring and its usage in the temples also describe official practices related to
the temples. Eyrbyggja Saga, ch. 4, describes the nature of the oath ring:
Þar lét hann reisa hof og var það mikið hús. Voru dyr á hliðvegginum og
nær öðrum endanum. Þar fyrir innan stóðu öndvegissúlurnar og voru þar í
naglar. Þeir hétu reginnaglar. Þar var allt friðarstaður fyrir innan. Innar af
hofinu var hús í þá líking sem nú er sönghús í kirkjum og stóð þar stalli á
miðju gólfinu sem altari og lá þar á hringur einn mótlaus, tvítugeyringur, og
skyldi þar að sverja eiða alla. Þann hring skyldi hofgoði hafa á hendi sér til
allra mannfunda.
There let him raise a temple and it was a great house. The door stood in the
sidewall and near the other end. There within stood the high-seat pillars
and therein were nails. They were called gods-nails. There was always a
place of peace for those within. Within the temple was a house in the same
likeness as the choir in churches and stood there a stall in the middle of the
floor the same as an altar and lay there a ring without joint, twenty ounces,
and shall there to it shall all swear oaths. That ring shall the priest have at
hand for all man meetings.
The saga of Viga-Glum also provides a description of the official use of the oath ring:
9 - Bonnie Effros, Creating Community with Food and Drink in Merovingian Gaul (Palgrave Macmillan, 2002); Yuitzhak Hen, “Food and
Drink in Merovingian Gaul” in Dieter Hägermann and Brigitte Kasten, eds., Tatigkeitsfelder und Erfahrungshorizonte des landlichen
Menschen in der fruhmittelalterlichen Grundherrschaft (bis ca. 1000) (Franz Steiner Verlag, 2006), 99-110.
10 - Barbara Yorke, “Britain and Ireland, c.500” in Pauline Stafford, ed., A Companion to the Early Middle Ages: Britain and Ireland
c.500-1000 (Wiley-Blackwell, 2009), 52: ““Archaeological evidence confirms that the different peoples of Britain did dress differently, and there is wider evidence from medieval Europe for variation in hairstyles and facial hair as ethnic markers.”
11 - Marc Bloch, Feudal Society Vol. 1: The Growth of Ties of Dependence, trans. L.A. Manyon, (University of Chicago Press, 1966), 111,
116.
12 - Janet Thormann, “The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle Poems and the Making of the English Nation” in Allen J. Frantzen and John D. Niles,
eds., Anglo-Saxonism and the Construction of Social Identity, (University Press of Florida, 1997), 62. For further information on
language as a marker of religious identity in another modern reconstructionist movement see Madeleine McBrearty, “The Use of
Non-vernacular Language in the Sabbath Morning Service of a Reconstructionist Synagogue” in Jack N. Lightstone, et al., Ritual and
Ethnic Identity: A Comparative Study of the Social Meaning of Liturgical Ritual in Synagogues (Wilfrid Laurier University Press,
1995), 81-88.
13 - Barbara Yorke, “Political and Ethnic Identity: A Case Study of Anglo-Saxon Practice” in Andrew Tyrrell and William O. Frazer, eds.,
Social Identity in Early Medieval Britain (Contnuum, 2000), 72-3, esp. no. 26.
Óðrœrir 31
En um morguninn eftir sendi Glúmur eftir Þórarni og bað hann koma í
Djúpadal eigi síðar en að miðjum morgni að heyra eiðana. Þórarinn veikst
við og fékk hundrað manna. En er þeir komu til hofsins þá gengu sex menn í
hofið, með Glúmi Gissur og Ásgrímur en með Þórarni Einar og Hlenni hinn
gamli. Sá maður er hofseið skyldi vinna tók silfurbaug í hönd sér þann er
roðinn var í nautsblóði þess er til blóta væri haft og skyldi eigi minna standa
en þrjá aura.
The morning after sent Glum after Thorarin and bade him to come to
Djupadal no later than mid-morning to hear the vows. Thorarin moved
against and fetched a hundred men. When they came to the temple there
were six men in the temple, with Glum, Gissur and Asgrimur with Thorarin,
Einar and Hlenni the old. That man is to take temple oath shall take the
silver ring in hand reddened blood of bulls for sacrifice and should not stand
less than three ounces.
In discussing the differences between Eyrbyggja Saga and Landnámabók, Jón Hnefill Aðalsteinsson
points to the possible implication of popular cult centers in addition to the “chief cult center” mentioned
in Landnámabók, but whether he believed there may be qualitative differences is not mentioned.14 The
conversion of the English folc following their kings15 and the sacrifices at Uppsala every nine years are
also examples of official religion. The official nature of the sacrifices at Uppsala is described by Adam of
Bremen:
It is customary also to solemnize in Uppsala, at nine-year intervals, a general feast of all the provinces
of Sweden. From attendance at this festival no one is exempted. Kings and people all and singly send
their gifts to Uppsala and, what is more distressing than any kind of punishment, those who have already
adopted Christian[ity] redeem themselves through these ceremonies.16
There can be no denying the existence of official heathen religion based on a concept of religious and
accompanying legal authority that demands adherence by all members of society.
What may be the most interesting example of Germanic heathen “popular” religion in action is the
procession17, but admittedly this can be considered an example of official religion as well.18 Communal
rituals such as marriage and funerary rituals are the most common forms of popular cult used to demarcate
identity and express religious beliefs. These rituals are directed towards communal and familial affairs
and benefit all involved participants, but are not subject to the dooms of the legal authority of official
religion.
14 - Jón Hnefill Aðalsteinsson, A Piece of Horse Liver: Myth, Ritual and Folklore in Old Icelandic Sources, trans. Terry Gunnell and Joan
Turville-Petre. (University of Iceland Press, 1998), 46.
15 - William A. Chaney, The Cult of Kingship in Anglo-Saxon England: The Transition from Paganism to Christianity (Manchester University Press, 1999), 167.
16 - Francis Joseph Tschan and Timothy Reuter, History of the Archbishops of Hamburg-Bremen (Columbia University Press, 2002), 208.
17 - For more information on procession and cult wagons see: Terry Gunnell, The Origins of Drama in Scandinavia (D.S. Brewer, 1995);
See also Robert, Christopher. “A Springtime Procession” Óðrœrir. Vol. 2, 2012
18 - The tendentious nature of the division between “official” and “popular” religion is problematic. Additionally, the definition of popular
religion is expansive and imprecise leaving the possibility of an arbitrary categorization of popular religious belief and practice. I
have retained the division to note what may be implicit differences and to maintain commonality and ease of communication. For related commentary see Alaric Hall, Elves in Anglo-Saxon England: Matters of Belief, Health, Gender and Identity (The Boydell Press,
2007), 17.
Óðrœrir 32
Private religiosity is also expressed in the surviving source material. Kormáks Saga and the skaldic
poem Austrfararvísur both describe sacrifices to elves, though, as John Lindow points out, only Sigvatr’s
Austrfararvísur refers directly to the álfablót.19 Kormák’s saga tells us of how Kormák was instructed to
sacrifice a bull and make a feast on a hill where elves lived in order to heal his wounds:
Hún segir: “Hóll einn er héðan skammt í brott er álfar búa í. Graðung þann
er Kormákur drap skaltu fá og rjóða blóð graðungsins á hólinn utan en gera
álfum veislu af slátrinu og mun þér batna.”
She says, “A hill here is a short distance from this place the elves dwell in.
A bull then Kormak slaughter and with the bull’s blood redden the outside
of the hill and make a feast for elves of the slaughter and you will recover.”
Additional offerings made to local wights and ancestors are described in the surviving literary and
archaeological records and express the personal nature of private religiosity. Thomas DuBois notes
the veneration of boars, bulls, cows, and horses.20 The significance of the distinction between private
religiosity, such as the veneration of animals, and popular cult can be seen in Hrafnkels saga Freysgoða.
Hrafnkel’s oath to Frey regarding Freyfaxi and his care for the sacral animal exemplifies private religiosity
in historic heathenry:
Hrafnkell átti þann grip í eigu sinni, er honum þótti betri en annar. Það var hestur brúnmóálóttur að lit,
er hann kallaði Freyfaxa sinn. Hann gaf Frey, vin sínum, þann hest hálfan. Á þessum hesti hafði hann svo
mikla elsku, að hann strengdi þess heit, að hann skyldi þeim manni að bana verða, sem honum riði án hans
vilja.
Hrafnkell had a treasure in his possession, he was better than any other. It was a horse brown-blue
dun in color, which he called it Freyfaxi. He gave Frey, his friend, half the horse. On this horse had he
so much love, that he made a solemn vow, that he shall be the bane of the man rode him without his will.
In contrast, the temple built by Hrafnkel and the many sacrifices made to the gods and Hrafnkel’s
service as goði to his people provides us with a clear example of heathen popular religion:
En þá er Hrafnkell hafði land numið á Aðalbóli, þá efldi hann blót mikil.
Hrafnkell lét gera hof mikið. Hrafnkell elskaði eigi annað goð meira en
Frey, og honum gaf hann alla hina bestu gripi sína hálfa við sig. Hrafnkell
byggði allan dalinn og gaf mönnum land, en vildi þó vera yfirmaður þeirra
og tók goðorð yfir þeim. Við þetta var lengt nafn hans og kallaður Freysgoði.
But then Hrafnkell had land setted at Athalbol, then strengthened his great
sacrifice. Hrafnkell allowed to make temple many. Hrafnkell loved nothing
more than the god Frey, and generously gave him half of his best treasures.
Hrafnkell built throughout the valley and gave men lands, but wanted to be
their leader (literally “above-man”) and took chieftainship (or priesthood)
over them. With that was lengthened his name and called Frey’s Priest.
These religious expressions, popular and private, fall under the auspices of accurate reconstruction.
They need to find greater acknowledgement and acceptance as expressions of heathen religion in their
19 - John Lindow, Norse Mythology: A Guide to Gods, Heroes, Rituals, and Beliefs (Oxford University Press, 2002), 54.
20 - Nordic Religions in the Viking Age (University of Pennsylvania Press, 1999), 54.
Óðrœrir 33
proper contexts by modern heathens.
The relationships between the people, the land, and the gods would constantly inform and be informed
by the cult and identity of the community. Due to their natures and purpose supra-regional cult centers,
like those used for Germanic national assemblies, would differ from local cult centers. Supra-regional
centers represented the cult of kings and chieftains and were marked by their legal character and the
national character of the direction of the cult. The cult rituals at these sites served to distinguish the
national social identity, further the prosperity of the king and his folk, and reinforce the value of law and
morality. This official religious cult would have been distant from the lives of the common heathen and
would rarely be actively expressed during prescribed times of the year. Though this cult would still retain
its significance to historic heathens, it would be less immediately critical in their lives and they would
relate more to the cult and customs closer to home. Writing about identity in Anglo-Saxon society and in
general, C.J. Arnold states:
Early Anglo-Saxon society, like any human society, was made up of individuals between whom there
were varying real and perceived relationships, both within the family and outside of it. The basis for
defining individual identity may have been drawn from many possible factors, some of which may not be
visible. Indeed, while individuals are visible any sense of self is obscured except in as much as physical
attributes of the individual were acknowledged by society. Such individuals would have had membership
of a variety of groups, a strong sense of identity arising from the lineage group, and perhaps a weaker
sense of identity with the region or tribe and eventually the kingdom.21
Heathen cult was the articulation of a world where survival was the result of performing right action22
for the land, its inhabitants, and its gods. As a result of the fact that all aspects of heathen life played out on
and in relation to the familial land, the boundaries of that land were very important and their maintenance
elicited a strong emotional response.23 This emotional attachment with the familial land and the traditional
methods of interacting with the land were an inseparable element of heathen identity that finds little real
expression in modern heathenry. The most common argument for the relationship with the land is the
celebration of heathen holidays at a time that is appropriate to heliocentric cycles and local agricultural
cycles. For whatever reason, the discussion of local holy springs or lakes, holy trees or groves, holy
mountains or mounds, and other holy sites are largely missing from modern heathen religious dialogue24,
even though these places were the targets of conversion-era prohibitions against heathen worship and
religious practices.
Gods and other honored wights were without question the gods of the people. While the sacral offerings
to gods and wights are readily visible, the rituals and wights associated with the offerings often remain
ambiguous. Archaeologists have documented offerings of flax, butter, drinking vessels, cattle, weapons
and armor, and even human remains. The significance of the location and the recipients of the offerings
remain elusive and must be assumed by those studying the remains. Similarly, while historic heathens
shared a Germanic and Indo-European cultural heritage, the literary and archaeological remains fail to
demonstrate a universally shared pantheon of gods. What is described in the literary sources and the
archaeological record is the worship of specific gods and wights who are directly relevant to and intimately
concerned with the life of the tribe but do not always bear resemblance to those of other sources.
21 - An Archaeology of the Early Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms: New Edition (Routledge, 2000), 179.
22 - Eric Christiansen, The Norsemen in the Viking Age (Blackwell Publishing, 2002) 252, 254; Chaney, 12.
23 - Barbara Hanawalt, The Ties that Bound: Peasant Families in Medieval England (Oxford University Press, 1986), 23; Jesse L. Byock,
Feud in the Icelandic Saga (University of California Press, 1993) 69-71.
24 - Erik Lacharity, “Frankish Sido; Tree Cults” Óðrœrir. Vol. 2, 2012.
Óðrœrir 34
The literary sources attest to the claim that the gods of the tribe have a very clear relationship with the
tribe. In these sources the gods are described as the ancestors and founders of the tribes.25 These gods
then have a familial relationship with the luck-wielders of the tribe and demarcate identity just as direct
familial relationships did in the Germanic world. Descent from the gods would reflect a popular belief
that was informed by official cult. If this popular belief was considered a fundamental element of their
world and their identity, then it would be unlikely that a larger, universal, pan-Germanic heathen pantheon
would have ever existed for every tribe. Additionally, if descent from the gods is fundamental, any other
relationships of the gods would not necessarily earn those relations worship from the members of the tribe.
The earliest references to the gods seem to be as a collective of powers that directly influenced the
world and lives of heathens. These powers, in general, were the objects of worship and sacrifice. It is
presumptive to assume anything about these powers beyond the fact that they were directly involved in the
life of the people. This is precisely what is most critical about understanding the relationship between the
gods and men and how that shapes identity and worship. The gods of the people are only ever the gods
that influence their social and private worlds.
Cult and Identity in Modern Heathenry
I was young of old,
I went alone,
then was I false road;
I thought myself wealthy,
is one I found,
man is man’s pleasure.
My woven cloth
gave I to field
two treemen;
heroes they thought,
when they had clothes;
shameful is the naked poet.
Hávamál, sts. 47, 49.
In terms of scholarship, modern heathenry has come a long way since its revival in the twentieth
century. However, its expression is becoming less developed as heathens become more concerned with
conformity to the source material. Instead of developing new forms of worship appropriate to group or
individual identity, they are focused on removing the extraneous, non-historic, elements of their thew.
With attention being directed at reconstructing historic heathenry, other elements of expressing heathen
religiosity and worldview are being ignored. Discussions on heathen theology and philosophy are mostly
nonexistent, the lack of which has been noted multiple times on heathen internet forums. Even with the
tendency towards focusing on official religion, heathen liturgy is largely underdeveloped or completely
lacking altogether. These elements, and others, are often considered to be holes in modern and historic
heathenry that need to be filled. This of course is largely a reflection of the individual and rarely an issue
25 - Anthony Faulkes, “Descent From the Gods.” VSNR Web Publications. n.d. Web. Nov 2011. <www.vsnrweb-publications.org.uk/
Descent-from-the-gods.pdf>; Rory McTurk, “Scandinavian Sacral Kingship Revisited.” Saga-Book, 24:19-32. Viking Society For
Northern Research, 1994.
Óðrœrir 35
of heathenry, but it is indicative of the need for heathenry to be relevant to the lives of modern heathens.
When we look at the primary informative elements of historic heathenry we encounter a world where
heathens were principally concerned with relationships with their kin, their native lands, and the holy
powers. But in contrast to this, many heathens forswear the traditions of their more immediate kin,
their native lands, and local wights for an idealized heathen substitute that is imagined to have existed
historically. The assumption seems to be that honoring these modern traditions, kin, lands, and local
wights is somehow “unheathen”. This couldn’t be further from the truth since heathenry has always been
about honoring immediate relations at the expense of far distant relations. It is precisely these elements
that have historically delimited the identities of differing groups.
Modern heathen identity is largely distinguished by the branch of the Germanic tree that provides the
names for the gods (Norse, Old English, Old High German) and other wights, and occasionally by which
international or national organizations the individuals and groups belong to. While both of these elements
are in perfect accord with historic heathen identity, they should not be the primary means of distinguishing
between groups. Because of this lack of distinction in thew between groups many popular and private
forms of religious and cultic expression are becoming part of the standardization of modern heathenry.
An example of a private ritual that has become standardized in heathenry is symbel. Modern symbel is
most frequently the formal, ritualized drinking of three rounds. The first round generally goes to the gods.
The second is directed towards heroes or ancestors and the third is for making boasts, oaths, or personal
dedications.26 Informal rounds may or may not follow depending upon the disposition of the participants.
This practice is based upon reading the saga of Hákon the Good.27
The majority of references to symbel is vague and provides little insight into the actions of the
participants. It is possible to assume that since there are no references to food being present during symbel
that it is related strictly to the consumption of alcohol in a formal social setting. This is a commonly held
position even though symbel is often rendered as “feast” by translators and even occurs during a feast
in Lokasenna. Available descriptions do not illustrate a situation where the act of drinking is religiously
significant. On the other hand the setting and actions of the participants outside of the act of drinking
are clearly socially28 and religiously significant. Words and deeds in particular seem to be immensely
important while seated at symbel. Social honor was challenged and affirmed in the seating positions of
the participants. This challenge and affirmation of the right to be seated on the mead benches seems to
have been the impetus behind the boasts of one’s deeds and claims to descent from folk heroes and the
demonstration of skill in poetry and music. Another significant element of symbel is the experience of the
seledreamas, OE hall-joys. The conviviality of the hall-joys was expressed through fellowship, music,
poetry, and gift giving,
We see symbel related to gebeorscipe, a word that conveys the idea of a group of people drinking
together. In the Old English version of Bede’s Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Anglorum, we are told of
Caedmon:
26 - Another common occurrence, though not quite at the level of approaching official religion yet, is the raising of the horn to what are
considered praiseworthy traits, such as one of the Nine Noble Virtues or Three Wynns. This is a strange occurrence and suggests some
lack in the social aspect of being heathen. A man should never have to arbitrarily raise a horn to a trait, but should always raise a horn
to the expression of that trait by other men. Do not raise your horn to the virtue of perseverance, but raise it to the man in your community who has persevered against all odds. If you do not know anyone in your community who meets those standards then you need
to become more involved in your community or find a better group of people to associate with. People deserve the honor of having a
horn raised to them. There can be no honor given to a trait or a virtue itself, but only to the act of making true that virtue in the world.
27 - It has been noted that symbel is not mentioned in the saga and further argued that the original does not refer to the ritualized drinking
of alcohol. See: Wills, John. “Symbel: The Heathen Drinking Ritual?” Óðrœrir. Vol. 2, 2012.
28 - ibid, 1.
Óðrœrir 36
Ond he forþon oft in gebeorscipe, þonne þær wæs blisse intinga gedemed,
þæt heo ealle sceoldon þurh endebyrdnesse be hearpan singan, þonne
he geseah þa hearpan him nealecan þonne aras he for scome from þæm
symble ond ham eode to his huse.
And because often at gebeorscipe, when there was deemed to be cause for
joy, that they all shall in succession sing to the harp, when he saw the harp
approach him then he arose out of shame from the symbel and homewards
went to his house.
This quote from the story of Caedmon is another example of an expectation of participation in ritualized
activity associated with the drinking of beer. Caedmon is shamed by his inability to perform as well as
his companions. Beowulf and Lokasenna also evince the fact that honor is a conditional element to
participating in symbel and gebeorscipe.29 The social ritual of being seated at symbel and gebeorscipe is
clearly one that has both a mindful and respectful element as well as one of joy and pleasure; a fact perhaps
further illustrated by the many words of warning in Hávamál and Riddle 25 of the Exeter Book.
The drinking of alcoholic beverages is also mentioned in relation to other religious and social activities.
Though the descriptions are not detailed, the significance of providing and giving the drink is clearly
portrayed. In the prose prologue of Lokasenna the sharing of ale is part of
the feast provided by Aegir for the gods and elves:
Ægir, er öðru nafni hét Gymir, hann hafði búit ásum öl,
þá er hann hafði fengit ketil in mikla, sem nú er sagt.
Til þeirar veizlu kom Óðinn ok Frigg kona hans. Þórr
kom eigi, því at hann var í austrvegi. Sif var þar,
kona Þórs, Bragi ok Iðunn kona hans. Týr var þar,
hann var einhendr, - Fenrisúlfr sleit hönd af
hánum þá er hann var bundinn. Þar var
Njörðr ok kona hans Skaði, Freyr
ok Freyja, Víðarr son Óðins;
Loki var þar ok þjónustumenn
Freys, Byggvir ok Beyla.
Margt var þar ása ok álfa.
Aegir, his other name
was called Gymir, he had
prepared the gods’ ale, he
had found the mighty kettel,
as now is told. To the feast
came Odin and Frigg, his wife.
Thor came not, as he was in
the east road. Sif was there,
Thor’s wife, Bragi and Idun,
his wife. Tyr was there; he was
29 - ibid, 1.
Óðrœrir 37
one-handed — Fenris wolf snapped his hand when he was bound. There
was Njorth and his wife Skathi, Frey and Freya, Vithar Odin’s son; Loki
was there and Frey’s servicemen, Byggvir and Beyla. Many were there
gods and elves.
Ynglinga saga, ch. 40, provides a description of the traditional significance of alcohol during social
ritual. We also see the relationship between the full, which is also described in the saga of Hákon the
Good.
Þat var siðvenja í þann tíma, þar er erfi skyldi gera eptir konunga eða
jarla, þá skyldi sá er gerði erfit, ok til arfs skyldi leiða, sitja á skörinni fyrir
hásætinu, alt þar til er inn væri borit full, þat er kallat var Bragafull. Skyldi
sá þá standa upp í móti bragafulli ok strengja heit, drekka af fullit síðan;
eptir þat skyldi hann leiða í hásæti þat, er átti faðir hans; var hann þá kominn
til arfs alls eptir hann. Nú var svá hér gert, at þá er Bragafull kom inn, stóð
upp Ingjaldr konungr ok tók vit einu dýrshorni miklu, strengði hann þá heit,
at hann skyldi auka ríki sitt hálfu í hverja höfuðátt, eða deyja ella; drakk af
síðan af horninu. Ok er menn váru drukknir um kveldit, þá mælti Ingjaldr
konungr til Fólkviðar ok Hulviðar, sona Svipdags, at þeir skyldu vápnast ok
lið þeirra, sem ætlat var um kveldið. Þeir géngu út ok til hins nýja sals, báru
þar eld at; ok því næst tók salrinn at loga.
It was custom in that time, that the funeral feast shall be duty-bound after
kings and earls, then shall he lead the funeral feast, and until inheritance
shall be conducted, sit at the edge before the high seat, there until completed
was the bearing of the cup that was called the Bragafull. Should he then
stand up take the Bragafull and bind solemn vows, drink from the cup; after
then shall he lead to the high seat, which belonged to his father; where he
had come to inherit all after him. Now it was so done, with that the Bragafull
came in, stood up Ingjald king and took one mighty drinking-horn, solemnly
he then vows, he shall increase his reach by half in every direction, or die
instead: he drank after that of the horn. And the men were drunk through
the evening, then said Ingjald king to Folkvithar and Hulvithar, Svipdag’s
sons, that they should arm themselves and their team, which was expected
in the evening. They went out and with their new payment, billowing there
they struck a fire; and then after took the hall to flames.
Again there is no mention of a specific number of rounds or a specific objective to each round. Instead
we see the familiar boasting of the new king with the cup in his hand and the drunkenness of the other
guests. The additional relation between the fulle-cup and symbel is illustrated in the Old English Maxims
I, lines 81-92:
Cyning sceal mid ceape bunum ond beagum; geofum god wesan. wig geweaxan, cwene gebicgan,
bu sceolon ærest
Guð sceal in eorle,
ond wif geþeon
Óðrœrir 38
leof mid hyre leodum, rune healdan, mearum ond maþmum, for gesiðmægen eodor æþelinga leohtmod wesan,
rumheort beon
meodorædenne
symle æghwær
ærest gegretan,
forman fulle ricene geræcan, boldagendum to frean hond
ond him ræd witan
bæm ætsomne.
The king shall bribe with cups and rings; be good food-givers. his army increase, the queen purchase,
dwelling they shall first
With battle shall earl
and wife to prosper
beloved with hired men, easy-going with drink,
secrets she keeps, be kind-hearted
horses and mighty treasure, at drinking
before war band symbel in every case
the prince of house first to approach
give the first fulle rule reaches, homeowners in lord’s hand
and him advise as counselor
both together.
Another example from the saga of Hákon the Good illustrates the relationship between alcohol and
religious feasts in a manner that suggests a lack of formality in the rounds and their focus.
Hann setti það í lögum að hefja jólahald þann tíma sem kristnir menn og
skyldi þá hver maður eiga mælis öl en gjalda fé ella og halda heilagt meðan
öl ynnist.
He set that in law to start Yule at the same time Christian men and shall they
have one man make one measure of ale in tribute fee and keep it holy while
the ale lasts.
Presented with this information, social rituals and roles reaffirmed over drink should be reflective of the
social group and not the mimicking of a description in a single source. It is clear that the number and focus
of the rounds were nonspecific. Alcohol clearly played an important role in social and religious ritual and
it is right for it to continue to do so for heathens today. But as these examples illustrate, the use of alcohol
in ritual should not always be expressed in a manner that resembles the symbel description in Lokasenna
and Beowulf or the rounds in the saga of Hákon the Good. These examples suggest that the setting and
the participants would define the nature of formal and informal drinking rituals. Thew surrounding the
consumption of alcohol in social and religious settings should develop as a natural expression of the
character of the group and should not be forced to conform to a standardized model of heathen ritual.
There were other forms of religious rituals as well. Aside from symbel, which has been argued as
Óðrœrir 39
being amongst the holiest of rites30, modern heathens often practice what is commonly known as blót.
Historically blót specifically referred to sacrificial feasts that involved the slaughter of living animals, but
today it is frequently used for any form of heathen worship that involves making an offering to the gods
or other wights.31 Blót was also historically associated with all three aspects of religious worship: official,
popular, and private. Strophes 144 and 145 of Hávamál allude to other heathen rituals that reflect heathen
religious belief:
Veiztu hvé rísta skal?
Veiztu hvé ráða skal?
Veiztu hvé fáa skal?
Veiztu hvé freista skal?
Veiztu hvé biðja skal?
Veiztu hvé blóta skal?
Veiztu hvé senda skal?
Veiztu hvé sóa skal?
Do you know how to cut?
Do you know how to counsel?
Do you know how to receive?
Do you know how to prove?
Do you know how to bid?
Do you know how to sacrifice?
Do you know how to send?
Do you know how to atone?
Betra er óbeðit
en sé ofblótit
ey sér til gildis gjöf
betra er ósent
en sé ofsóit
svá Þundr um reist
fyr þjóða rök
þar hann upp um reis
er hann aptr of kom
Better not bidden
than over sacrificed
A gift always looks to payment
better unsent
than over-atoned
So Thund cut
before peoples’ fate
where he rose up
and he afterwards came
Though these strophes are often assumed to relate to the runes, they are clearly technical terms for
heathen ritual acts with other purposes. Rísta could easily have been translated carve or write as well. The
carving of words, not just runes, on stone monuments and other artifacts is well documented in heathen
culture. The corresponding ráða could have been translated as advise, interpret, or read as well. Again, the
offering of advice and wise counsel are praiseworthy character traits for Germanic heathens and Christians
alike. Tacitus also informs us of the importance of reading and interpreting signs. The line containing fáa
has been translated paint or stain in every commonly available English translation used by heathens. This
is presumably based on the contraction of the double vowel to fá32 and as a continuation of strophe 141.
Since strophes 144 and 145 appear formulaic with repetition of elements of the first strophe in the second,
and following the assumption that the formula is significant, fáa has been translated here as “receive”.33
30 - “Symbel.” Wikipedia. n.d. Web. 25 Nov 2011. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbel>. I am aware of the problems surrounding the
credibility of Wikipedia entries as source citations, but the descriptions in this entry are indicative of the opinions and conclusions
of modern heathens regarding modern Germanic heathen religion. It is also relevant in the discussion of heathen religiosity as it is
frequently used as a credible and authoritative source of information on heathen religion by new heathens. This contributes further to
the standardization of heathenry.
31 - “Germanic Neopaganism.” Wikipedia. n.d. Web. 25 Nov 2011. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Germanic_Neopaganism#Rites_and_
practices>.; “Blót.” Wikipedia. n.d. Web. 25 Nov 2011. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blót>.
32 - Sophus Bugge edition makes the contraction to a single vowel, while Guðni Jónsson’s edition does not. The contraction may or may
not be significant. In comparing the usage of the verbs, I found far more occurrences of fáa and fá meaning to receive or to get.
33 - The formula seems to be made apparent within the two strophes and not a direct continuation of the preceding or following strophes.
The inquiries and following imperatives are clearly related to something Thund carved in days of old and not to the preceding runes or
the following magical songs.
Óðrœrir 40
Freista could have been translated try, test, tempt, or to risk. The semantic field gives the idea of “putting
something to the test” or the equivalent of “testing one’s mettle”. This is reminiscent of strophes 81 - 88,
of Hávamál where the speaker warns against the danger and unreliability of the unproven thing. Biðja
takes on the semantic character of asking for something or praying for something or urging someone to
do something. It is used in the sense of “I bid you welcome” or “pray tell”. Therefore, it could have been
translated pray, ask, or beg. Blóta is sacrifice. Translating it any other way is to ignore what it is and how
it is used in the surviving literature. Senda is also pretty straightforward and means “to send”. Sóa is the
most difficult to translate. In the prose sources it means “waste,” but has been argued to mean “to appease”
or “to atone” based upon cognates in other languages. Based upon a reading of Ynglingatal, 5, it has been
suggested that it clearly means to sacrifice, to make an offering, but in a way that is distinguished from
blóta.34 If these meanings are related, the semantic field would suggest the proper means for atonement or
appeasement of the powers involving the sacrificial destruction of an object or person that, because of its
distinction from blót, perhaps did not involve ritual feasting afterwards.
The particular significance and methods of conducting the acts described in these two strophes can only
be assumed. Even with our modern ignorance of the particular meanings in this context, it is clear that
their significance would have been understood by historic heathens due to the imperative nature of the
statements. There are enough examples in the archaeological record and literary sources to provide plenty
of inspiration and models for heathens to develop a religious and social identity around, but the discussion
regarding these ritual acts are lacking. The development of wagon cults, the return of idols and groves,
and the performance of traditional blótar by multiple heathen groups are tremendous steps forward but
are also merely the beginning.
Concluding Thoughts
Efforts to reconstruct historical heathenry are essential to developing a modern religion that reflects the
beliefs, attitudes, values, and behaviors of our heathen ancestors. At the same time, for modern heathenry
to be truly heathen, it must not forswear our recent ancestors, our local lands, and our local wights and
gods. The discoveries made during the reconstruction of historic heathen religious belief and practice
must be the foundation and the model, but the building materials can only ever be local.
With that in mind, developing a modern thew based upon the reconstruction of elder heathen thew
and maintaining relevance to the land and people of today requires understanding the significance of the
varying expressions of heathen religious belief. Official holy days should reflect their significance and
value as the religious expression of a belief shared by the larger group and, therefore, adherence to that
belief should be in relation to the official nature of the days. These holidays would not change based
upon local and regional situations, but would be consistent annually. These meetings will reflect the
official nature of larger groups where numbers of individuals, households, and groups meet religiously and
socially at specific, consistent times throughout the year.
In contrast to this, local holy days should reflect the local world and not be based upon an attempt to
replicate religious and social acts that are largely irrelevant to the local world of the heathen or reflect
the demands of a single household or individual. Popular religious holidays will be directed towards
the benefit of the local and regional communities and should reflect the needs of those communities.
Communities that still rely on agricultural or pastoral industries will have rituals that reflect those industries.
34 - “578 SOFARI -- SÓKN.” Germanic Lexicon Project. 26 Nov 2011. Web. 27 Nov 2011. <http://lexicon.ff.cuni.cz/html/oi_cleasbyvigfusson/b0578.html>.
Óðrœrir 41
Predominantly urban communities that rely on other industries will have cultic rituals that reflect those
industries. Private religiosity will meet the needs of the household. The worship of and paying honor
to the gods is a fundamental aspect of heathen religion, but as a folk religion that is defined by its socioreligious and socio-political expression, proper cult should develop around the needs of the people, their
land, and their gods. Cult is an act that requires participation and direction; it is the active expression of
the beliefs of a people. Heathens honor the gods because of what the gods have done and continue to do.
Heathens honor the gods for the world and thew they have established. But everything else that heathens
do should be done for kith and kin and this is how heathen identity and thew will be developed and will
survive into the future.
An Example from our Household
Symbel in our household takes place before the feast and signals that the event is both socially and
religiously significant. As the head of the household, I set the stage with my words over the horn, inviting
our guests to join in recognizing the event being honored, and welcoming all who have come. What will
follow will be a nonspecific number of rounds over the horn with my wife, or sometimes our daughter,
bearing the horn. In our home, symbel is socially significant and therefore our children will participate.
Each round consists of words, poems, or songs being offered in honor of gods and other wights, each
other, our community, or to bid a good and prosperous year or season.
At our winter full moon celebration this year, our guest of honor was the corn dolly and a feast was
offered in her honor. We began by offering her the seat of honor and gifting her with the words of Miri
It Is. Because this time coincides with the determination of the final harvest of the year35 this celebration
included a bit about shared efforts and harvest. We entertained our guest with the tale of The Little Red
Hen. This was followed with the offering of poems. Each of us composed a poem and offered them in
honor of their intended recipients. In addition to the offerings of words, there were many physical objects
presented as offerings. Handmade trinkets and tokens, copper coins, and objects from our household and
jobs made their way to the corn dolly and other wights. After the offerings were presented, we began the
drinking of the rounds. Instead of following the standard model for symbel we followed a more traditional
drinking pattern related to the harvest season. With the lady of the house bearing the horn, we drank the
full after singing the following song based upon a traditional English harvest tune:
Here’s a health unto the powers, the founders of the feast,
Here’s a health unto our kith, and one more to our kin.
So may our doings prosper, whate’er we take in hand,
For we are all good folk, and true to this land.
Chorus:
Then drink, friends, drink,
And see you do not spill.
For if you do, you shall drink two,
For ’tis our folk’s good will.
35 - In our region we get multiple harvests of various crops, particularly hay, and this time of the year will determine if it is possible to get
another.
Óðrœrir 42
Now summer it is ended and supper it is past.
To our good wights’ health, friends, a full and flowing glass,
For they bring good luck, and make us all good cheer
Here’s to our family’s health, so y’all drink off the beer.
The song was sung and the horn was tipped and each passing was the cause of more and more good
cheer. After enough rounds to “drink off the beer” the horn was placed aside and the feast was set. The
feast consisted of a meal that incorporated the meaning of the celebration and held meaning and value to
us and our heritage in particular. It was not a dish that was made because it was common to our distant
ancestors. After the feast was completed the physical offerings, the remains of the feast, and the written
words to the poems were bogged at the base of a large tree in our local lake.
We foresee a future where the singing of this song and the recitation of the words to Miri It Is will
become part of the customary celebration of the harvest season and the winter full moon. By our reckoning
Haverfest and the winter full moon coincide in some years and are two distinct celebrations in others.
Because of the culture of our region many tunes and much symbolism from early English cultures are
retained in the traditional cultural songs of our area. We incorporate these traditions into our traditions
as well, which is why we sang these specific songs during the celebration of the tide. We chose not to
marry Winterfylleth and Winter Nights as many heathens do and instead focused on celebrating important
cycles in our lands in a manner historically associated with heathenry. During these feasts, all members
participate, and the ritual acts, though directed at honoring others, are inclusive.
In contrast to this, as a Theodish household we observe Axenthof thew and Theodish thew when we
participate in and perform holy rituals as a thiad. In these instances, the lord of Axenthof has the honor
of leading symbel and fainings. Symbel, in a Theodish setting, will have three formal rounds followed
by any number of informal rounds as necessary. Fainings in Theodish thew are rituals honoring gods or
wights in relation to specific holy tides. The rituals in fainings are generally exclusive and involve the
officiant leading the ritual and all other participants primarily observing the solemnity of the act. The
specifics of these fainings are protected as solemn events and will not be described here.
The religious expression of our beliefs, our particular cult, is a dynamic and growing expression of our
identity. It is inseparable from our heritage, our homes, our community, and our gods.
Óðrœrir 43
Symbel
The Heathen Drinking Ritual?
•
By John Wills
If there is one thing that links all Heathen practice it is the early medieval drinking ritual “symbel” also
known as “sumble”. This tradition is lifted straight from the pages of Beowulf, The Eddas and other
Germanic poetry and is a ritual that equally unites and divides the various flavours of modern Heathenry
whilst remaining an act at the core of all our social structures and gatherings.
In this essay, I will examine where symbel comes from, what it is from a Reconstructionist view, what
it is not and what symbel means to the members of the Þunorrad Þeod in England. It should be considered
that there is no one right way to symbel as this ritual is a tradition within each folk, family or group, but
there are wrong ways to symbel or wrong perceptions of symbel which are due to misconceptions and
influences from other religions which I will discuss as they arise.
Evidence for Symbel in Literature.
Symbel is mentioned throughout the corpus of Old English poetry with the main source being Beowulf;
it is also mentioned in Old Saxon poetry and the Eddas1, it should be noted that some of the poems
containing references to symbel are overtly Christian in their nature such as the Old English Dream of the
Rood. Just a brief examination of the poetry removes common misconceptions about symbel.
The first misconception is that symbel is a mystical ritual linking humanity and the unseen in a similar
way that the Christian communion links humanity and Christ. This misconception is debunked in the
Lokasenna where the gods are “sumbli at”, “at symbel”, unless there exists higher gods than those gathered
in Ægir’s hall the notion that symbel is communion between man and god is unfounded2.
The second misconception is that symbel is overtly Heathen. If this was the case then its mention in The
Dream of the Rood “…on heofonum, þær is dryhtnes folc geseted to symle”, “in heaven there are God’s
people sat at symbel”, would be most odd to say the least. The primary sources show that symbel is an
activity for both man and god, Heathen and Christian, on earth and in “heaven”. The obvious conclusion
is that the ritual is a social one not a mystical one.
Whilst the bulk of our knowledge of symbel comes from English and Scandinavian literary sources it
would be wrong to assume symbel, or an equivalent, was not practised by the other Germanic peoples of
the early medieval period. In Tacitus’ Germania, he comments in chapter 22:
To pass an entire day and night in drinking disgraces no one ... Yet it is at
their feasts that they generally consult on the reconciliation of enemies, on
the forming of matrimonial alliances, on the choice of chiefs, finally even
on peace and war, for they think that at no time is the mind more open to
simplicity of purpose or more warmed to noble aspirations.
1 - Bauschatz, 1982
2 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 44
Tacitus’ study was of the peoples of the Anglii southwards through mainland Germany in the first
century. This may not be a description of what a symbel is in later literature but it is undeniable evidence
of the use of alcohol at important or formal events. Physical evidence of high status drinking can be seen
from the find of the 5th century Frankish/Merovingian glass drinking-horn from Bingerbrück, RhinelandPalatinate, Germany (fig 1.) and the similar 6th century Lombardic glass drinking-horn from Sutri, Lazio,
Italy (fig 2.), both on display in the British Museum. The use of horns and glass will be examined later.
Fig 1. 5th century Frankish/Merovingian glass drinking-horn from Bingerbrück, Rhineland-Palatinate, Germany
Fig 2. Late 6th century Lombardic blue glass drinking-horn from Sutri, Lazio, Italy
The way symbel is presented in literature is that one is “at symbel”, it is a specific event more than an
action, and one is “seated” or “sat” suggesting a structured event3. Another important observation is that
3 - Bauschatz, 1982
Óðrœrir 45
symbel is always indoors and specifically in a beer or mead hall (these terms are interchangeable for the
same structure). The symbel events in Beowulf take place in Hroþgar’s and Hygelac’s halls, in Lokasenna
the Æsir gather Ægir’s hall; these buildings are not described as temples or shrines but as halls the secular
centre of the community from where the ruler gives his judgements and gifts4.
Beowulf and Lokasenna remain, above all other references, the clearest explanations of what actually
happened during an early medieval symbel. It is clear that the participants sat at a bench or benches in
some order of their rank within the community and such that key players are visible to each other and
heard when speaking. The lack of description in other literature can be seen as an assumption by the author
that the poem’s intended audience was so aware of the practice that no explanation was necessary, much
like today we would say “I was watching TV” or “we were at a football match”.
In both Beowulf and Lokasenna only the drinking of alcohol is mentioned, there is no food. Prior to the
events of Lokasenna is the Hymiskviða which in the first two stanzas contain “sumblsamir” and “sumbl”.
In the first stanza the gods are hunting and want a drinking feast, they use twigs and blood (Woden’s
glory-twigs of the Nine Herbs Charm?) and see that Ægir has many cauldrons. In the second stanza,
Þorr confronts Ægir demanding he hold regular symbel for the gods, meaning one that the gods attend
in person. Hymiskviða goes on to tell of Þorr’s adventures to acquire a kettle large enough for Ægir to
brew “ölðr”, ale, for the symbel. The poem ends by telling us this symbel happens every “eitrhörmeitið”
harvest or autumn dependant on the translation (this may actually be a cognate feast to the Old English
“Winterfilleð” which is the full moon in the month of Winterfilleð, modern October).
Hymiskviða has set the scene and now Lokasenna picks up the action at one of the symbel events, sumbl
or sumbli is used seven times making it clear that this event is indeed a symbel. The poem is definite in that
the symbel is one of beer or ale drinking, repeatedly using the word “öl” when referring to the drink; mead
is only used when Loki returns demanding to drink and when Sif offers him a cup. The poem ends with
Loki saying “Öl görðir þú, Ægir” clearly stating it was ale that Ægir brewed. It is possible that beer, ale
and mead are interchangeable words for alcoholic beverage however taking into consideration the timing
of the symbel from the last lines of Hymiskviða it is likely that beer is the drink being consumed. Honey
collection is typically between June and September and mead requires at least a six months brewing time.
The grain harvest normally happens during July and August and beer has a brewing time measured in
days making it easily ready for the autumn symbel. Mead not being ready for at least six months is more
appropriate for a spring symbel; that said mead has a much longer shelf life measured in years. Such
ambiguity is also found in Beowulf where at one symbel is in the “beer-hall”, the drink is poured from
an “ale-cup” and it is a “clear, sweet drink”5. Old English literature also gives the possibility for wine to
have been used at symbel; in Genesis we find that both Noah and Abimelec are “symbelwerig” (literally
“symbel weary”) after being called “wine druncen” (drunk on wine) and both are sleeping. This mixture
of terminology for the drink used at symbel suggests that “only mead should be used” is another symbel
myth and that the drink consumed is chosen for cultural and seasonal reasons, the only hard rule being
that it is alcoholic.
As noted above in Lokasenna the gods are seated, from the description of the conversation between the
listed gods and Loki they are seated such that Loki has an equal audience with them all suggesting a long
bench. The opening prose of Lokasenna gives a list of the attending gods but says that many more gods
and elves were there, one long bench for everyone is impractical however using Beowulf as a reference
for seating we have a scene with a high bench and additional benches for other ranks, Loki is addressing
4 - Pollington 2003
5 - Bauschatz, 1982, Beowulf, lines 491-496
Óðrœrir 46
only the high bench. We also see at this symbel the servants are male and female gods who sit at the
benches. One of the servants, Fimafeng, is serving and the other, Eldir, appears to be guarding the door as
he attempts to prevent Loki re-entering the hall. This again is matched in Beowulf, when Beowulf arrives
at Heorot gives his name and purpose to Hroþgar’s “herald” at the door6 and inside it is a thane that carries
the “ale-cup”. The similarities between the first Beowulf symbel and the Lokasenna symbel continue with
the interactions between the attendees; the speeches are about past deeds and boasts, there are accusations
and rebuttals. The primary accusers are Loki and Unferð to whom the defenders make the same initial
response “you are drunk” before going on to set straight the story told about them. In Beowulf, the hero
after beating Unferð in the word battle goes on to boast of how he will kill Grendel, something that his
challenger has failed to do. The response of “you are drunk” can be taken as an insult and point to an
expectation that during symbel you should attempt to remain sober or at least in control of your mouth.
In the second Beowulf symbel the male servant is replaced with Queen Wealhðeow, Hroþgar’s wife, who
now carries the “cup”. Wealhðeow is said to know the correct procedure, first offering the cup to Hroþgar
and then crossing the hall to Beowulf, this time Hroþgar does not give any speech, it is Wealhðeow who
speaks to Hroþgar advising him to be happy. She greets Beowulf and at this point we have a reference of
divinity in that she “gode þancode wisfæst wordum”, thanked god wise words7, after her speech Beowulf
says his words, a boast of what he had done and affirmation of the boast he had previously made declaring
he would kill Grendel.
It should be noted that the Beowulf poet uses the seating arrangement at symbel to demonstrate Beowulf’s
success and honour; when he arrives he is sat with the young and untested warriors but after his defeat of
Hroþgar’s enemies he is sat with the proven men, the thanes and older warriors. This movement between
benches is further enforces the importance of seating arrangement that is no accident or personal choice of
the individual, it is strictly dictated by rank and by instruction of the hall-lord.
Symbel is also alluded to in some poems which can be used to back up the descriptions of boasts from
Beowulf, for example in the Old English Battle of Maldon we find Ælfwin saying to the remaining men
after Byrhtnoð’s death:
Gemunan þa mæla
þonne we on bence
hæleð on healle, nu mæg cunnian þe we oft æt meodo spræcon
beot ahofon,
ymbe heard gewinn;
hwa cene sy.
Remember the times that we often at mead spoke,
Then we on the bench rose up a boast,
The hero in the hall, about cruel war;
Now (one) may prove who may be keen/brave.
(Battle of Maldon, 212-215)
This passage shows that those words spoken at symbel will be remembered and must be lived up to.
These men at the Battle of Maldon were Christian but it is evident that they knew of and practised symbel
as a binding ritual.
To recap, the above can be condensed into the following elements required for a drinking ritual to be
6 - Beowulf, lines 333-339
7 - Beowulf, lines 625-626
Óðrœrir 47
considered a proper symbel:
• An indoor setting
• Organised and ordered seating arrangement
• Medium strength alcoholic beverage; ale, mead or wine
• Absence of food
• A “cup bearer”, one who carries the drinking vessel around the symbel
• Oaths, boasts, speeches, challenges and defences
These elements should be considered as the base requirements. Other elements that are common to the
descriptions of symbel but included in all are; the presence of (high status) women, the giving of gifts,
material splendour and merriment. It is also worth noting that in all the poetic examples of symbel only
high status individuals are present: the warrior class and people of office.
So far in this investigation all the texts have been either overtly Christian in nature or have been recorded
after Germanic Heathen contact with Christian culture. The Christian influence is clear in Beowulf but
is also in Lokasenna when the poet wrote the line “þá gekk Sif fram ok byrlaði Loka í hrímkálki mjöð ok
mælti”8; the phrase hrímkálki for the “cup” Sif gave to Loki did not enter the Norse language until after
the Danish settlement of Christian England9. Hrímkalki is a taken in some translations to mean “crystal
cup”10 although more rightly it should be “rimy, frosty or icy chalice” from hrím “rime, hoar, frost” and
kálkr “chalice”. Glass drinking vessels such as claw and cone beakers are common in high status burials,
hrímkálki works well as a description for these items (fig 3).
It should not be considered that because the symbel descriptions are of Christian symbel or told using
Christian words that symbel is itself a Christian activity, what it does illustrate is that symbel was not
considered a form of worship or communion between man and god and played an important (if not vital)
role in early medieval social systems.
The identification of symbel as a social not mystical or communication ritual is not to exclude gods
from speeches or well wishing during the ritual, just as in modern times one may raise a glass “to absent
friends”, hailing the gods or ancestors may have formed part of the words spoken at symbel. The evidence
shows that symbel is not prayer or sacrifice; it is a binding together of the people present through their
words. One possible argument against this comes from Saga Hákonar góða, the Saga of Hakon the Good,
in Heimskringla by Snorri Sturlusson. In chapter 16 of this saga there is a detailed account of a drinking
ritual in which the first cup is dedicated to Odin, the second to Njord and the third to Freya, another cup
8 - Lokasenna verse 53
9 - Cleasby, R. and Vigfusson, G, 1874:
KALKR, m. [borrowed from Lat. calix; A.S. calic and calc; Enlg. chalice; O.H.G. chelih; Germ. kelk; Dan-Swed. kalk; the word came
with Christianity from the Engl.; for, though it occurs in the ancient poems, none of these can be older than the Danish settlement in
England: the form kalkr is used in a heathen sense, where as the later form kaleikr is used in the ecclesiastical sense only]:- a chalice,
cup, goblet, it occurs in the poems Hym. 28, 30, 32, Akv. 30, Rm. 29, Skv. 3. 29; hrím-kalkr, Ls. 53; silír-k., a silver cup, Hkr. i. 50;
nú er hér kalkr, er þú skalt drekka af, eptir þat tók hann kalkinn, þa var enn eptur í kalkinum, er hann hafði af drukkit kalkinum, Gullþ.
7; nú tók hann kalkinn ok hönd hennar með, Hkr. i. 50. HRÍM, n. [A.S. hrîm; Engl. rime; Dan. rim-frost; cp. Germ. reif] - rime, hoar,
frost, Edda 4, Vþm. 31, Korm. (in a verse), Fms. vi. 23 (in a verse), Merl. I. 51, freq. in mod. usage. COMPDS: hrim-drif, n. a drift of
rime, Sks. 230. Hrím-faxi, a, m. Rime-mane, a mythol. horse, Edda 56, Vþm.14. hrím-fextr, part. rime-maned, of the waves, Fas.ii.(in
a verse). hrím-frosinn, part. rimy, Sks. 230. hrím-steinar, m. pl. rime stones, Edda 38, 48. Hrím-þursar, m. pl. ‘Rime-giants;’ the Titans
of the Scandin. mythology were so called, as opposed to and older than the common Jötnar (Giants), Vþm. 33, Hm. 109, Gm 31. Skm.
34; hrímþursar ok bergrisar, Edda 10, 15, 25, 38. II. the black soot on a kettle, ketil-hrím. COMPDS: Hrím-gerðr, f. name of a giantess,
Hkv. Hjorv. hrím-kaldr, adj. rime cold, Vþm. 21, Ls. 49, Fm. 38. hrím-kalkr, m. a rimy cup, from the froth on the mead, Ls. 53, Skm.
37.
10 - Bellows, 1936
Óðrœrir 48
is emptied for Bragi and another for the ancestors. It is very tempting to use this as evidence of symbel
and a direct dedication to the gods however this would be wrong as the Old Norse manuscript makes it
very clear that this event is a blót not a sumble. The chapter is entitled Frá blótum, “of sacrifice”, and tells
how cattle and horses are taken into a temple, slaughtered and cooked with the blood being collected. The
blood, which was called “hlaut”, blood of sacrifice, was then sprinkled on the participants and the walls
(inside and out). Although men brought “öl”, ale or possibly mead, it is not completely clear whether it
was this ale in the cups or the blood or cooking juices. Sigurðr is described as blótmaðr, a worshipper
or one for sacrifices, the event is explicitly called “blót” and “blótveizlu” with all of the events revolving
around blood and the eating of sacrificed animals. If Snorri had not called the event blót the presence of
food, slaughter and blood singles this event out as very different to any other example of drinking ritual
that we identify as symbel. It is therefore wrong to use this source as a research tool for symbel, other than
as a comparison between symbel and blot.
Fig 3. Migration Period (early 5th century) Claw Beaker from grave 843, Mucking, Essex, England
The ambiguity of the drinking vessel is similar to the ambiguity of the actual drink consumed, after
Sif’s words in Lokasenna the poem continues “Hann tók við horni ok drakk af”11, now the vessel is
11 - Lokasenna verse 54
Óðrœrir 49
referred to as a horn. There is no mention of horns in Beowulf or other Old English poetry, for example,
when symbel is mentioned in The Wanderer the speaker is lamenting the removal of the seating and cups:
… Hwær cwom maþþumgyfa?
Hwær cwom symbla gesetu? Hwær sindon seledreamas?
Eala beorht bune! Eala byrnwiga!
Eala þeodnes þrym! …
… Where went treasure giver?
Where went symbel seats? Where are hall joys?
Alas bright cup! Alas mailed warrior!
Alas king’s host! ...
(The Wanderer, lines 92b-95a)
The Wanderer, again from the Christian period, demonstrates in the lines above much of what symbel
is. The Wanderer is lamenting the loss of the hall and his folk and in these lines tells us of gifts, seated
symbel, merriment indoors, the “bright cup” (which may be either mead or a decorated drinking vessel),
and the high status of those in the hall. This exposes another modern myth about symbel; drinking must
be from a horn, from all the evidence above this is clearly not the case.
The use of horns for drinking in England is evident from the archaeological record. Notable horns
include those from the Anglian high status burials at Sutton Hoo and Taplow, and the Saxon princely
burial at Prittlewell12. These burials are from the Heathen and conversion period. We know from the
pictorial evidence in the Bayeux tapestry’s depiction of Harold’s feast at Bosham that in England horns
were used for high status dinking as late as the mid 11th century.
Fig 4. Late 6th century drinking horn from the Taplow Court barrow, Buckinghamshire, England
12 - Pollington, 2008
Óðrœrir 50
Explicit literary evidence of a known Heathen participating in symbel and the use of horns can be found
in Egil’s Saga from Iceland. Egil visits King Æþelstan after fighting the Scots (most likely at the battle of
Brunanburh), Æþelstan was a pious Christian whereas Egil was a Heathen; however, both knew the rules
of symbel and this is evidence that symbel crossed both religious and national divides. Egil sits in the gift
stool, which is made clear for him, and is handed a horn but refuses to drink instead he raises his eyebrows
at the king. Both Egil and Æþelstan are carrying their swords; Egil also wears his helmet and carries his
shield, however both place their swords on their laps where they can be seen. The carrying of weapons is
unusual; it would appear to break the rules of grið that weapons must not be carried in the presence of the
king13. How the weapons are placed suggests a ritual between two men who must trust each other contrary
to their natural instincts. Æþelstan takes a ring from his arm and passes it using his sword over a central
fire to Egil who takes it using his sword, now Egil drinks and makes a speech14.
The presence of weapons in this passage is not without precedence, Tacitus comments on the presence
of weapons during drinking sessions in his Germania15 as do the Laws of Horþhere and Eadric, Christian
kings of Kent in the late 7th century:
XIII. Gif man wæpn abregde þær mæn drincen 7 ðær man nan yfel ne deþ,
scilling þan þæt flet age, 7 cyninge XII scll’.
XIV. Gif þæt flet geblodgad wyrþe, forgylde þem mæn his mundbyrd 7
cyninge L scill’
13. If a man a weapon unsheathes whilst men are drinking and there is
nothing wicked nor death, a shilling to that hall owner, and the king has
twelve shillings.
14. If that hall is blooded is worth, pay double that man his fine of
compensation and the king has fifty shillings.
There are two other significant laws from this period pertaining to the behaviour whilst drinking, the
first, again from of Horþhere and Eadric, shows the importance of passing the “beaker” and allowing a
man to speak:
XII. Gif an oþrum steopp asette ðær mæn drincen, buton scylde, an eald
riht scll’ agelde þam þa þæt flet age, 7 VI scll’ þam þe man þone steap aset,
7 cynge XII scll’.
12. If another’s beaker is taken away whilst men are drinking, without
a crime, granting old law a shilling punishment to those that the hall is
property, and six shillings to the man whose beaker was taken, and the king
has twelve shillings.
There are two important elements here: First, it is only a crime if the man whose beaker is taken is
innocent of any wrongdoing, and second that the fine paid to the hall owner is from an “old law” or “old
right”. The “old law” is likely to be a traditional custom predating written law as no mention of this is
13 - Pollington, 2003
14 - Magnusson, 1999, Egils saga Skalla-Grímssonar chap. 55, Pollington 2003
15 - Tacitus, Germania 22, in Bauschatz, 1982
Óðrœrir 51
made in the previous law code of Æþelberht16. The “crime” which would allow a drink to be taken from
a man is not specified however, the second example of drinking law, this time from the Laws of Ine of
Wessex written in 694, helps shed some light:
VI v. Gif ðonne on gebeorscipe hie geciden, 7 oðer hiora mid geðylde hit
forbere, geselle se oðer XXX scill. to wite
6 §5. If while in beer-drinking they chide (each other) and one of them
forbears with patience, let the other pay 30 shilling as a fine.17
When sat drinking one must not start name-calling, quarrelling or scolding the others with you or if
someone starts to behave in that manner one is to sit it out patiently. This polite behaviour is also advised
in the Icelandic poem Havamal that has a number of verses warning against speaking when drunk, over
drinking and mockery.18
These laws about drinking are more than “drunk and disorderly” laws they are enshrining into law the
traditional drinking etiquette, the “eald riht”, and provide us with evidence of the behaviour expected
in the drinking rituals described in the poems and sagas. The position at the start of the law codes also
highlights the importance of drinking at the heart of society.
Applying these laws and the Havamal verses to Beowulf and Lokasenna we can see that Unferð’s
challenge is not the same as Loki’s behaviour, and, why the outcomes are different. Loki was punished
because he did not stop; he made challenge after challenge, chiding and mocking the gods, each challenge
getting progressively more personal and abusive breaking both the laws of men and the moral code of the
Havamal.
Symbolism in Symbel
So far, we have looked at what happened at symbel, where it was held and the sources of evidence.
Before suggesting how to reconstruct a symbel, it is important to identify the symbolism within the ritual,
why it existed and why it continued. Symbel was so important in pre-Christian Germanic culture that it
was retained after conversion and its legacy is still felt today in northern European societies where it is
common practise to wish someone good health after giving them a drink.
The gathering together of a community or social group inside a building sets that group apart from
those people and things outside of the building. The action of coming together and closing the door on
the outside world is a physical representation of the Germanic model of the cosmos, one of insiders and
outsiders19. The seating arrangement and the order in which each person drinks further emphasises the
hierarchy of the group inside. By being inside one is affirmed as part of the group and where a person sits
shows to everyone else in attendance their status. This is social and political symbolism.
The two prominent seats described in the poems and sagas are the high seat of the lord, chief or ruler
and the gift stool on which the honoured guest sits. This seating arrangement gives a physical arena in
16 - Attenborough , 1922
17 - Translation by S. Pollington
18 - Havamal verses: 11 to 14, 17, 19 and 30 to 32
19 - The community and one’s family are the “insiders” people outside of this circle are “outsiders”, from a reconstuctionist Heathen
perspective one aims to always benefit one’s community and family. “Ásatrú spirituality is based on the interacting with the real world
in a way which supports the well being of family and community. It is not and never has been about looking outward or inward.”
Rood, 2011
Óðrœrir 52
which the “gift and favour” social system can be enacted, that is the buying or rewarding service with
gifts from the highest rank to lower ranks20. Egil and Æþelstan are a good example of this as is Beowulf’s
promotion in seat position after killing Grendel. Again, this is social and political symbolism.
It must be remembered that symbel is not egalitarian nor a democracy. It is not clear from the surviving
literature if all the people in the hall participated in the drinking. The Battle of Maldon suggests that it
was “heroes” in the hall who spoke “at mead” which is echoed in The Wanderer who laments the “mailed
-warrior” and “king’s host”, such people were the high ranking members of early medieval society which
marks drinking in the mead hall as a special privilege.
The political and social importance of the hall and seating do not explain the drinking or passing of a
drinking vessel although they do go some way to explain why after conversion to Christianity the traditional
ritual continued to be practised unmolested and unchanged. The poems Hymiskviða and Lokasenna give a
mythological insight into possible religious origins of symbel.
Bauschatz, in The Well and the Tree, puts forward a theory about the physical symbolism of symbel.
He argues that at the heart of Norse cosmology is Yggrdassil (an ash tree at the centre of the universe) and
Urðarbrunnr, Urth’s Well, at its base, Volsupa and Gylfanning both tell us it is at this well that the Norn’s
determine the fate and lives of men and decide law. Bauschatz made a strong argument that the captive
liquid inside the horn passed from man to man is symbolic of the water of Urth’s Well21.This theory is
plausible although not without fault.
The importance of wells and springs outside of Norse literature is evidenced in Anglo-Saxon culture
by the multitude of place names referring to wells or springs, for example Sywell (seven wells/springs,
seofon wella) and Twywell (two/double wells/springs, twi wella) in Northamptonshire22. Wells and springs
in the early medieval period (as now) were often the only reliable source of safe drinking water, different
in physical nature and cleanliness to other bodies of water such as rivers, lakes and seas where monsters
and powerful creatures live. It is no accident of imagination that Grendel’s Mother dwells at the bottom
of murky pool, the surface of the water is a gateway to another world and one outside the world of man.
However, in contrast the spring bubbles up from the ground into the centre of our world bringing us life
and refreshment.
I believe, if Bauschatz is correct in his hypothesis, that this is actually the tip of the iceberg and the
symbolism goes deeper and that this is evidenced in the Hymiskviða and in the archaeological record.
In Hymiskviða the plot revolves around the acquisition of a cauldron or kettle in which to brew the
ale (or maybe warm the mead) for a symbel for the gods. In the Lokasenna the liquid is drew from this
“kettle” and poured into the cups; the same action as one would use when drawing water from a well.
These two poems are the only references to symbel related cauldrons or kettles in literature; however,
“princely” burials throughout Heathen period England such as Wollaston, Sutton Hoo and Prittlewell23
all contain cauldrons, some with suspension chains. The acceptance of the horn’s use in symbel from a
relatively small number of literary references compared to cups is strengthen by the inclusion of horns in
high status graves; this can (and should) be extended to the cauldron or kettle. By extending Bauschatz
proposition to the cauldron the symbolism of the contained liquid becomes a more holistic representation
Urth’s Well in the mead hall.
Such an extension of Bauschatz’s position also helps to explain the reason for the setting inside the
mead hall. If the underlying symbolism of the ritual was to enact the drinking from Urth’s Well at the
20 - Pollington, 2003
21 - Bauschatz, 1982
22 - English Place-Name Society
23 - Meadows 2004, Pollington 2008
Óðrœrir 53
base of Yggrdassil then why was it not performed in a grove with a spring under an ash tree? Volsupa and
Gylfanning give answers to this by telling us it is at Urth’s Well where the Norns make law and the gods
hold council. By bringing the symbolic spring into the mead hall where men make laws and hold council
the status of both are confirmed; laws are passed where the well is and the well is where laws are passed.
Fig 5. Sutton Hoo hanging blow or cauldron
The use of intoxicating liquor is part of the symbolism; it is mind altering and therefore different to
ordinary water. It is not clear as described above whether the alcohol was mead or ale but what is clear from
each description is that it was alcoholic and likely to make the drinker drunk even though drunkenness it
has been shown was not a good state to be in during symbel.
What is clear is that the drink was special; Beowulf describes clear sweet liquid, which contrasts with
river water or herbal infusions, as does the clear bubbling water of a spring. The head of froth on ale in
the glass and during fermentation can also be seen as a connection to springs and with its alcoholic effects
potentially to Urth’s Well or “otherness” in general.
The speaking and actions during symbel are of as much importance as the setting and paraphernalia. A
symbel cannot be held in silence, the literary evidence is clear that words are spoken over the horn before
drinking. Here Bauschatz makes his most interesting point in his examination of symbel: the words are
heard by the liquid as we speak them and then we drink them, we take the words back into ourselves and
we become one with our words24.
If we make insults or slurs then we carry them always after drinking, if we make boasts then we must
live up to them and if we make oaths then we must stand by them. Urth’s Well is the font of wyrd, by
symbolically bringing this well into our ritual and sharing its issue we are drinking our wyrd and shaping
ourselves in the eyes of all present both seen and unseen. The cup or horn, from the evidence and the
symbolism proposed from Bauschatz work, should be held below the mouth so that words spoken go
over the liquid. The horn may be raised above the mouth after speaking or drinking but not before as this
prevents the words from entering the symbolic spring water that the speaker will then drink.
The Bauschatz theory of Urth’s Well has one major flaw in that symbel continued into the Christian
period. If the ritual were so intimately bound to this part of Germanic cosmology, it would likely have
been frowned on by the new religion. There is argument that Urth’s Well is only recorded in Norse
24 - Bauschatz, 1982
Óðrœrir 54
literature however the evidence from English literature and place naming reflects the notion of wells and
water being of special significance. The ritual and temple described in Saga Hákonar góða would not
have been tolerated by the new faith. Bede demonstrates this in recording such events as the destruction
of Heathen temples by their priests. Somehow, symbel survived.
If Urth’s Well is removed does symbel still work? Obviously the answer is “yes”, else, the ritual would
not have been so important to our Christian ancestors; this then begs the question “was Urth’s Well there
Fig 6. Valkyrie figure carrying a horn from Birka, Sweden
Fig 7. Valkyrie presenting a horn to Odin on the Tjängvide image stone
to be removed in the first place?” Without the Well, we have people gathered in a place separated from
the rest of the world, publicly displaying their ranks within society and making their speeches, vows and
boasts sealing these with the shared action of drinking from a communal cup. The liquid and its container
in this picture of symbel now represent the oneness of the social group which ties each speaker to the
others, this is no less related to wyrd (a concept incorporating fate, the past and the present into one) than
the symbolism of Urth’s Well25. Each speaker is making clear their intensions for the future, their thoughts
of the present and memories of the past for all to hear and to be held accountable should these words be
untrue or not fulfilled. At the point at which the speaker drinks, those words are committed to the group
and become part of the social binding.
In the Bauschatz model, the high status female cup bearer carrying the drink from drinker to drinker
can be seen as the final key to overall symbolism of symbel. During the ritual, she can be seen as a
representative or symbol of the unseen: a Norn, valkyrie or wælcyrige carrying men’s fate around the
room, choosing who will speak and who will not, speaking her words before the drinker and ensuring the
proper order of things. The best examples of this role in practice are Wealhðeow presenting the cup to
25 - Wyrd (OE) is cognate to Urðr (ON) from which the name Urth’s Well comes.
Óðrœrir 55
Hroþgar and Beowulf26 and Sif presenting the cup to Loki27, both use polite, calm and greeting words as
they hand over the cup.
Without the Bauschatz model the high status woman continues to have a major social and symbolic
importance. The social position of women was not one of second-class citizens: they were the equal to
males but different.28 The high status of these women must not be overlooked; these are women who under
any other circumstance would be served not serving. Being served by the high status woman demonstrates
the honour and privilege being bestowed onto the male participants of the symbel. The words spoken by
the women in literature are in contrast to challenges made by the male spokesman, the þyle; the women
encourage good words and promote a peaceful atmosphere in a situation that could otherwise become a
drunken brawl. In Lokasenna, it is initially servants that carry the cup but as Loki becomes more aggressive
and abusive it is Sif, the wife of Þorr, who presents him with a cup and soothing words in an attempt to
bring peace to the proceedings.
This female role of maintaining the peace within the hall brings to mind the high status women known
as friðuwebbe, a peace maker (literally “peace-weaver”), who became brides of a rival folk to build peace
between the two people29. The use of the noun webba, a weaver, continues the theme of wyrd and this
woman indeed does weave backwards and forwards between the participants of the symbel.
Reconstructing a Symbel
Reconstructing a symbel should not be a physically difficult task considering that it is, at its core, a
simple drinking ritual. As stated in the preamble to this study, it is wrong for anyone to dictate the “one
true way” to symbel. The evidence clearly sets out a correct framework within which to practice symbel.
There are a small number of roles that should be filled and objects that are required, there are also some
dos and don’ts to be considered. Using the literary evidence above it is possible to create a generic
template from which a symbel can be devised to suit most groups.
Reconstructing a symbel can prove to be a spiritually difficult task because of preconceived ideas
based on alternative world-views to that which is Heathen. Understanding, accepting and believing the
underlying reason for symbel is what differentiates a reconstruction from a re-enactment of the ritual. It
is in this aspect that the Heathen symbel resembles other religions’ rituals; for example, eating bread and
drinking wine does not make a Christian Eucharist, it is the participant’s belief that the bread and wine
have for that moment transformed into the actual flesh and blood of their god that makes it the Eucharist.
Basic material requirements:
1. An indoor area with adequate seating for all attending the symbel.
2. Medium strength alcoholic beverage such as mead or ale (5%-15% ABV).
3. A suitably ornate or distinctive vessel such as a drinking horn or large cut crystal glass.
Key roles:
1.The “Lord” or host, this is either the location owner or highest ranking individual present in a communally owned or rented space. This is a required role.
26 - Beowulf lines 612 to 628
27 - Lokasenna verse 5\3
28 - Herbert, 1997
29 - Herbert, 1997 friðuwebbe and Clark Hall, 1916, “friðe-webba” female noun.
Óðrœrir 56
2.The “Lady” or “Cup Bearer”, this is the person who will carry the drinking vessel between each
participant. This is a required role.
3.The “þyle” or “Challenger”, this person challenges the boasts made by the guests on behave of the
host thus saving the host the embarrassment of entering into or loosing an argument. This role is not
required but is useful; the person taking this office should be thick skinned and knowledgeable of
lore and the group’s history and politics.
4. The “Scop” or “Skald”, an entertainer, a singer or story teller (who may also be the þyle). Again, this
role is not required but adds merriment and joy to the otherwise solemn ritual.
5. The “Guest”, this person is the guest of honour, the person sat opposite the host. This role is taken
by whoever the host wishes to honour, it is completely at the host’s discretion if this role is filled.
6. The “Door Guard”, an optional role, this person calls the participants to symbel and closes the door
when they are all seated; he also prevents others from entering without announcement.
Sequence of events:
1. The guests enter the symbel room and are seated in accordance with the wishes of the host, possibly
with the assistance of the door guard.
2. The drink is brought into the room by the cup bearer or Lady. Depending on the custom of the group,
the drink may have been blessed in private beforehand or during this part of the ritual by the host.
Some groups may prefer not to bless the drink at all.
3. The cup bearer/Lady presents the host with the first draught with suitable words.
4. The host stands and takes the cup and makes a welcoming speech thus opening symbel. He then sits.
5. The cup bearer/Lady takes the cup around the room personally welcoming each participant to drink
who stands to accept the cup. Before drinking, each receiver of the cup has the opportunity to make
a speech, make a boast or simply thank the host. After drinking, the participant should return to his
seat. The direction of the cup should be clockwise30 although if someone is sat in the guest seat he
may be offered the cup directly after the host.
6. When the cup reaches the host again, the Lady sits down. The rounds may continue requiring an
attendant to follow to ensure the cup does not empty.
7. Each time the cup reaches the host it is at his discretion whether it should continue or the symbel
closed.
It is at point six that the reconstruction of symbel becomes less clear and open to interpretation, the
literary evidence does not include the closing of a symbel nor make clear how rounds progressed after the
first speeches. Egil’s saga tells of drinking rounds leading to helpless drunkenness and vomiting31 although
this drinking is at a dísablót not a symbel. Beowulf only describes the cup moving around the hall between
the key characters’ speeches. In Lokasenna there appears to be numerous cups in use, there is a situation
mentioned in Egil’s saga where we hear of every man having his own horn and another where men being
paired with drinking partners32.
If the cup bearer takes a seat at the end of the first round, they would be taking the seat to the right
of the host demonstrating the role of cup bearer to be one for the highest of office. In Beowulf, Queen
Wealhðeow sits by Hroþgar’s side after she has offered the drink to Beowulf and he has returned the cup
30 - Pollington 2003
31 - Magnusson 1999, Egils saga Skalla-Grímssonar Chap. 44
32 - Magnusson 1999, Egils saga Skalla-Grímssonar Chap. 48
Óðrœrir 57
to her; whether she took a drink is not mentioned33.
It is clear that should the cup or horn continue to make rounds amongst the assembled participants
it must be accompanied by an attendant whose role is to ensure that it does not run dry. Alternative
arrangements may be made such as after drinking checking there is enough for the next person and if not
calling out for a refill, but whatever solution is adopted the cup should not run dry during a symbel.
The final issue for complete reconstruction is what to do with the cup and remaining drink at the end
of symbel. The recording of symbel is Christian and therefore any ritual activity with the remaining liquid
such as pouring onto the ground as a symbolic gift to the ancestors or other ritualised disposal would
have been viewed as “demonic” or “devilish” thus no longer practised and ignored in literature. Symbel’s
persistence into the Christian period and potentially up to the Norman conquest of England and the end of
the Viking Age suggests that it changed to suit the religious and social climate.
Symbel’s original symbolism steeped in wyrd and the unseen world was over taken by the spoken word
for its own value, other overtly non-Christian elements may have mutated or fallen by the wayside. I will
leave this final step open ended for each individual group to decide what is right for them. The leader of
the symbel may drink the last drop symbolically taking in all the words of all the participants and enforcing
his role as “luck carrier of the folk”. The liquid can be placed into a votive bowl and left for unseen guests,
taken to a sacred site and gifted to the unseen there or to the ancestors; this could be a grove, tree, spring
or grave. However the drinking the vessel is emptied, when it is the symbel is over.
Þunorrad Symbel
Symbel is core principle within the Þunorrad Þeod; my fellow ðeodwitan have kindly provided me with
their thoughts for publication in this article.
Lee James, Þeoden, Þunorrad Þeod:
“To my mind, symbel is the time and place for a man to be truly measured
by his community. The story of everything he has known to have said, done,
or failed to do may be retold in front of his people. It is both the start and
the end of his success. It is also where the community shows their trust in
him, his standing amongst them and his worthiness to share the warmth,
laughter, protection and joy that is his theod. Every time I symbel, as I speak words to my gathered folk, restating my
luck and my strength, sealing these words with potency and permanency by
drinking from the shared horn or cup, so my folk do the same. And with our
ritual words and drinking, we become tied and bound together, and share
in the wholeness of the group. Indeed, we become obligated to each other
and are each expected to maintain and uphold our wholeness. I would say
that it is that expectation which acts as a guide and a drive throughout my
life, and it is that, more than all other things, that I would consider to be the
core of a “heathen” way of life.” Liam Green, Hwicce Ealdormann, Þunorrad Þeod:
“Symbel to me is the act of myself reforming my ties and commitment
33 - Beowulf, lines 639-641.
Óðrœrir 58
to my kin in the Theod in the eyes of its leadership, its fellow members,
the Gods, our collective and personal ancestors and Wyrd itself in hope of
bringing further good luck to my Theod and my Family. It also reaffirms my
place within the Theod and the sharing of mead with its members signifies
that the position I hold in it to the leadership in the sense that I wish to
continue in this position along with the responsibilities (Hospitality, rents,
etc.) and duties to the leadership and the community as a whole.
“In my opinion Symbel is crucial to my and any theod, unless a firm
social structure is in place and that structure is accepted by the membership
and community as whole and hopefully Wyrd willing recognised by our Gods
and ancestors we can’t begin the process of engaging with them for the
good of ourselves our community and descendants and more importantly,
we can’t show them the respect they deserve.”
Conclusion
Symbel is, at its core, a social ritual binding people together and to their words. Being present at a
symbel may not entitle you to participate. This is at the discretion of the Lady carrying the cup, as the
Peace Weaver she may present the cup to someone not in favour with the group leader to allow this person
an opportunity to make his peace with the group or alternatively pass someone by due to their low rank.
As shown above from Egil’s Saga, participants may refuse the cup until gifts have been exchanged. It
could be seen to be easier and safer not to be offered the cup, as with the cup comes a great responsibility to
make your speech and to stand by your words; equally not to be given this opportunity can be humiliating
or angering, Loki being refused a drink for example.
Symbel is a political ballet performed in public and in which each participant be they a speaking,
serving or observing being are of equal importance to the overall event as during the cup’s rounds the
whole structure and ethics of the group are laid bare for all to see and its future is declared.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the following good folk for their comments and assistance with this article: Lee
James, Liam Green, Peter Nalder, Shane Ricks, Josh Rood, and Stephen Pollington.
Óðrœrir 59
Feeding the Wolf
The Theme of Restraint, and its Lack,
in the Mythology of Fenrir
•
By Dan Campbell
I am reluctant to have this band put on me. But rather than that you question
my courage, let some one put his hand in my mouth as a pledge that this is
done in good faith.
But all the Æsir looked at each other and found themselves in a dilemma
and all refused to offer their hands until Tyr put forward his right hand and
put it in the wolf's mouth. And now when the wolf kicked, the band grew
harder, and the harder he struggled, the tougher became the band. Then they
all laughed except for Tyr. He lost his hand.1
To modern sensibilities, the binding of the wolf Fenrir can seem cruel and unfair: a self-fulfilling prophecy that turns the wolf into the gods' slavering enemy because of how they treat him. But such an interpretation overlooks the symbolic value of the wolf in Norse mythology and the social mores reinforced by the
wolf's binding. Setting aside questions about the gods' morality, the binding of Fenrir shows the restraint
required to maintain the reciprocal social bonds that support and protect the common good. The tale shows
the price that individuals must pay to gain, and keep, the benefits of kinship and common cause.
In Snorri Sturluson's tale of the binding of Fenrir, the chief reason given for the Æsir’s actions is a mix
of prophecy and Fenrir's innate character:
And when the gods realized that these three siblings [Hel, Jörmungandr,
and Fenrir] were being brought up in Giantland, and when the gods traced
the prophecies stating that from these siblings great mischief and disaster
would arise for them, then they all felt evil was to be expected from them, to
begin with because of their mother's nature, but still worse because of their
father's [Loki]. 2
A simple interpretation of this statement, and of references to Fenrir in eddic and skaldic poetry,3 would
be that the Æsir bind Fenrir because he is kin to their enemies among the giants and will play a critical role
in the destruction of all things at Ragnarok. But what moves the Æsir to bind Fenrir is the wolf's appetite,
a characteristic that links Fenrir to the underlying symbolism of the wolf in Norse myth and literature:
The Æsir brought up the wolf at home, and it was only Tyr who had the
courage to approach the wolf and give it food. And when the gods saw
how much it was growing each day, and all prophecies foretold that it was
1 - Snorri Sturluson, Edda, trans. Anthony Faulkes (London: J.M. Dent, 1987) 29.
2 - Snorri Sturluson, Edda 27.
3 - c.f.: Völuspá stanzas 40, 44, 49, 53, 54, 55, and 58 in: Carolyne Larrington, trans., The Poetic Edda (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1996) 9-12; VafÞrúðnismál stanzas 46, 47, and 53 (Larrington 47-48); Grímnismál stanza 23 (Larrington 55); Lokasenna stanzas 39 and
41 (Larrington 91); and Hákonar saga Góða, stanza 100 in: Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla: History of the Kings of Norway, trans. Lee
M. Hollander (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2007) 127.
Óðrœrir 60
destined to cause them harm, then the Æsir adopted this plan, that they
made a very strong fetter.4
While Snorri continues to emphasize the prophecy in the Æsir’s motivation, it is the wolf's hunger and
growing size that prompts the gods to act.
Earlier, in Gylfaginning, Snorri describes the devouring rampage of the wolf Moongarm: “He will fill
himself with the lifeblood of everyone that dies, and he will swallow heavenly bodies and spatter heaven
and all the skies with blood,” and he quotes from Völuspá for support: “He gorges the life of doomed men,
reddens gods’ halls with red gore.”5 While Moongarm would appear to be a different wolf than Fenrir,
Rudolf Simek asserts they are the same and that the other two named wolves, Sköll and Hati, who devour the sun and moon, are similarly identical with Fenrir.6 Even if one interprets Moongarm, Sköll and
Hati as individuals distinct from Fenrir, they are nonetheless all the same kin, sired by Fenrir, as Snorri
describes with reference to Völuspá: “The ancient giantess breeds as sons many giants and all in wolf
shapes, and it is from them that these wolves are descended... Thus it says in Voluspa: In the east lives the
old one, in Ironwood, and breeds there Fenrir’s kind.”7 The fact that Fenrir shares the destructive hunger
of Moongarm, Sköll and Hati is alluded to both in Snorri’s account in Gylfaginning, quoted above,8 and in
his later description of Ragnarok:
But Fenris wolf will go with mouth agape and its upper jaw will be against
the sky and its lower one against the earth. It would gape wider if there was
room.9
In this second image, the threat of Fenrir’s hunger and growth are emphasized, for his jaws gape open to
swallow all there is between heaven and earth. Indeed, the refrain about Fenrir in Völuspá stanzas 44, 49,
and 58 explicitly links Ragnarok with the wolf’s hunger: “the rope will break and the ravener run free.”10
In that line from Völuspá, the word translated as “ravener” by Carolyne Larrington connects Fenrir
with what wolves represent in Norse myth and literature. In Old Norse, the second line of the refrain from
Völuspá stanzas 44, 49, and 58 reads: “festr mun slitna en freki renna,”11 in which freki is the word alluding to Fenrir and translated as “ravener” by Larrington. Richard Cleasby and Gudbrand Vigfusson offer
the following definition for freki:
freki, a, m., poët. a wolf, Vsp. 51, Gm. 19. 12
However, freki more literally means “the greedy one”13 and is derived from the adjective frekr, meaning “greedy, voracious, hungry,” with connotations of “exorbitant, harsh.”14 As mentioned in Cleasby and
Vigfusson’s definition quoted above, freki and the hunger of wolves also appear in Grímnismál stanza 19:
4 - Snorri Sturluson, Edda 27.
5 - Snorri Sturluson, Edda 15.
6 - Simek 80.
7 - Snorri Sturluson, Edda 15.
8 - SnorriSturluson, Edda 27.
9 - SnorriSturluson, Edda 53
10 - Larrington, 10-12
11 - Völuspá. Eddukvæði: Sæmundar-Edda, ed. Guðni Jónsson, Heimskringla: Norrøne Tekster og Kvad, 2005, 25 April 2009
<http://www.heimskringla.no/wiki/Eddukvæði>.
12 - Richard Cleasby and Gudbrand Vigfusson, An Icelandic-English Dictionary (London: Oxford University Press, 1874) 172, Germanic
Lexicon Project, 28 May 2011 <http://lexicon.ff.cuni.cz/texts/oi_cleasbyvigfusson_about.html>.
13 - Simek 90.
14 - Cleasby and Vigfusson 172.
Óðrœrir 61
“Geri and Freki, tamed to war, he satiates, / the glorious Father of Hosts.”15 Looking up geri in both Simek
and Cleasby and Vigfusson reveals that it also means “the greedy one,”16 by way of the adjective gerr,
meaning “greedy, gluttonous.” 17
Frekr, in the form frekan18 and translated as “ravener” by Larrington, further appears as a kenning for
fire in Alvíssmál. In stanza 26, fire is called “ravener by the giants,”19 while stanza 28 echoes the theme
with wood called “fuel by the giants.” The ravening appetite of fire is similarly put to good use in Snorri’s
description of the eating contest between Logi and Loki, in which Logi is later revealed as fire itself.20
Two stanzas by Thjóthólf quoted in Ynglingasaga bring together the greedy appetites of fire and wolves:
...the fire did turn,
and the gleedes’
greedy-dog [fire] bit
the liege-lord21
By bay bight
the building-wolf [fire]
swallowed up
Óláf’s body.22
In the eddic poems about Sigurd, the greed of wolves is extended to greed for gold and their hunger to
its loss. Sigrdrífumál stanza 38 warns Sigurd: “never trust / the oaths of a wrongdoer’s brat” for “the wolf
is in the young son, / though he seems to be gladdened by gold.”23 In Reginsmál, Regin plots to use Sigurd
to win Andvari’s gold from his brother, Fafnir, by saying, “I have expectations of winnings from a ravening wolf.”24 Atlakviða uses wolves twice to warn that Gunnar will lose his wealth: first, when Hogni says
to Gunnar, “I found a hair of the heath-wanderer twisted round the red-gold ring; / our way is wolf-beset
if we go on this errand,” and second when Gunnar responds, “The wolf will have control of the Niflungs’
inheritance, / the old grey guardians, if Gunnar is going to be lost.”25
From the evidence related above, it is clear that wolves were synonymous with greed in Norse thought.
But what is the origin of the association?
The image of the greedy wolf survives in the modern English saying “to wolf down” one’s food, i.e. to
eat like a wolf, gulping one’s food quickly as if one were starving and unable to fill one’s belly. To anyone
who has watched a nature film that shows wolves eating, the sense of this image will be readily apparent,
for wolves “wolf down” their food, consuming as much as possible to hold them over until the next kill.
Eating wolves appear ferocious, violently defending their share of the kill either against other predators or
against lower status members of their own pack. This violent behavior of wolves at a kill may help explain
the Norse perception of the wolf as a creature of the lawless wild, often seen scavenging corpses on the
battlefield.
15 - Larrington 54.
16 - Simek 106.
17 - Cleasby and Vigfusson 197.
18 - Eddukvæði, Alvíssmál stanza 26.
19 - Larrington 112-113.-h
20 - Snorri Sturluson, Edda 41, 45.
21 - SnorriSturluson, Heimskringla 18.
22 - SnorriSturluson, Heimskringla 45.
23 - Larrington 172.
24 - Larrington 154.
25 - Larrington 211-212.
Óðrœrir 62
In skaldic poetry, “feeding wolves” is a cliché kenning referring to battle and the prowess of warriors,
and the metaphor is often extended to ravens and eagles. As Aleksander Pluskowski summarizes:
Skalds used predatory kennings for warriors, their behavior and equipment,
whilst personal names incorporating animals (in runic inscriptions and later
literature) are almost exclusively drawn from wild species... Stronger associations are found in warrior kennings which refer to them as feeders
of ravens, wolves, and eagles... whilst the fallen in battle are described as
meals.26
Examples can be drawn from multiple sources,27 but a few selections should suffice to demonstrate the
motif’s emphasis on hunger, greed, and the devouring of the dead:
From Skaldskaparmal:
“Evil lineage of she-wolf swallowed much-harmed corpse”
“the prince reddened Fenrir’s chops”28
From Heimskringla stanzas 210, 320, 328, 438, 519, 569:
“Tawny she-wolves’ teeth a twelfth time the king reddened”
“who filled with meat the maws of wolves”
“Gorge we the hungry wolf-brood!”
“Heaped he...hills of high-piled slain for hungry wolves”
“gorging the greedy mount-of-ghouls”
“feeder-of-famished-wolves”29
From Egil’s Saga stanzas 12 and 53:
“who stain wolf’s teeth with blood”
“make meals for the wolf with his sword”30
From Krákumál stanzas 9, 16, and 19:
“The wolf welcomed our offering of corpse-windrows”
“never suffered the she-wolf to starve”
“many fell into wolf’s jaws”31
A verse of Egil’s, quoted by Snorri in Hattatal, dwells on the “feeding wolves” motif and further connects it to Fenrir:
26 - Aleksander Pluskowski, “Harnessing the hunger: Religious appropriations of animal predation in early medieval Scandinavia,” Old
Norse religion in long-term perspectives: origins, changes, and interactions, eds. Anders Andrén, Kristina Jennbert and Catharina
Raudvere (Lund: Nordic Academic Press, 2006) 120.
27 - These are all of the references that I found to “feeding wolves”, though I doubt this list is comprehensive: Snorri on the word warg with
quotes from Thiodulf, Egil, Einar, Arnor, Illugi, Hall and Thord (Sturluson, Edda 135-136); stanzas 62, 85, 133, 146, 148, 194, 200, 210,
290, 320, 328, 401, 412, 427, 438, 441, 445, 454, 460, 472, 495, 505, 518, 519, 528, 540, 544, 547, 569, 573, 581, 586, 592 and 597 in
Sturluson’s Heimskringla; stanzas 12, 13, 41, 50, and 53 quoted in Egil’s Saga, as well as stanzas 10, 11, 12, 14, and 15 from the poem
Egil delivers to King Eirik to ransom his head, in: Bernard Scudder, trans. Egil’s Saga, in: The Sagas of Icelanders: A Selection, (New
York: Penguin Books, 2001) 75, 76, 126, 165, 166, and 116-117; another verse by Egil, quoted by Snorri in Hattatal (Sturluson, Edda
199); and stanzas 2, 3, 8, 9, 10, 16, 18, 19, and 24 of Krákumál, in: The Sagas of Ragnar Lodbrok, ed. and trans. Ben Waggoner (New
Haven: Troth Publications, 2009) 75-82.
28 - Snorri Sturluson, Edda 135-136.
29 - Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla 257, 476, 497, 573, 647, 696.
30 - Scudder 75 and 166.
31 - Krákumál 78, 80, 81.
Óðrœrir 63
Who would nourish the bloody-bristled she-wolf with the wound’s red drink
unless it were that the prince strengthens the wolf’s greed many a day? The
leader provides the watcher [wolf] with wounds newly pierced by edge. The
army sees the front claw of Fenrir’s shaggy paw redden.32
While the “feeding wolves” motif naturally derives from wolves worrying corpses on the battlefield,
the symbolism of the wolf, its hunger, and the violence it will do to satiate itself is more than a grim metaphor of war.33 To be or become wolf-like means becoming a threat to the social order; being an agent of
destruction, which cannot restrain itself. In a prior paper, I pointed out that the breaking of the bonds of
Loki and Fenrir is equivalent to, and caused by, the breaking of the bonds of kinship and community, as
alluded to in stanza 45 of the Völuspá (translation mine): 34
Bræðr munu berjask ok at bönum verðask,
munu systrungar sifjum spilla;
hart er í heimi, hórdómr mikill,
skeggöld, skalmöld, skildir ro klofnir,
vindöld, vargöld, áðr veröld steypisk;
mun engi maðr öðrum þyrma. (Eddukvæði, Völuspá 45)
Brothers shall fight and become each other’s slayers,
Cousins shall commit incest;
Hard it is in the world, there is much adultery,
Axe-age, sword-age, shields are cloven,
Wind-age, wolf-age, until the world is overthrown,
No one shall give others hospitality.
Note that such a time of social disorder is described as an “Axe-age, sword-age” and a “Wind-age,
wolf-age”, recalling the skaldic kennings for battle. The threat represented by both wolves and weapons
reappears in Hávamál stanzas 85-88, in which “A stretching bow, a burning flame, / a gaping wolf, a cawing crow” and “a flying dart” are named in a list of things that should not be trusted. 35
Such lack of trust and the inherent dangers in unrestrained appetites also apply to outlaws and berserkers who, being outside the law (and thus outside the social order), are compared with wolves. The Old
Norse word vargr, while literally meaning “wolf”, is a legal term for an outlaw, “esp. used of one who
commits a crime in a holy place, and is thereon declared accursed”.36 The terms for full outlawry and
full outlaw—skóggangr, “forest-going”, and skógarmaðr, “forest-man”37—further emphasize the wolfish
character of the outlaw by echoing verse about wolves in the wilderness, such as in Völuspá stanza 40,
In the east sat an old woman in Iron-wood
and nurtured there offspring of Fenrir38
32 - Snorri Sturluson, Edda 199.
33
- Nonetheless, the “feeding wolves” motif as a kenning for battle is likely behind both Tyr’s epithet as “feeder of the wolf” (Sturluson,
Edda 76) and Odin feeding Geri and Freki in Grímnismál stanza 19 (Larrington 54)—in each case showing them to be gods of battle
and warfare.
34 - Dan Campbell, “’The Bound God’: Fetters, Kinship, and the Gods” Idunna 89 (Fall 2011). 24.
35 - Larrington 25.
36 - Cleasby and Vigfusson 680.
37 - Jesse Byock, Viking Age Iceland (London: Penguin Books Ltd., 2001) 231.
38 - Larrington 9.
Óðrœrir 64
The first stanza of the Old Norwegian Rune Poem:
Gold causes the strife of kinsmen;
the wolf is reared in the woods.39
The distinction in Icelandic law between manslaughter and murder shows that a lack of restraint underlies the comparison of full outlaws with wolves. Killing someone and confessing (or boasting) about it
was considered manslaughter, a crime which could be settled through compensation and so avoid further
bloodshed. Murder, in contrast, was a killing where the perpetrator did not confess the deed. If discovered,
the murderer could be outlawed; however, the act was just as likely to lead to revenge killings and feuding,
upsetting the social order. As Jesse Byock summarizes:
The law gave people the right to take vengeance and to defend their person
and their honour, but only within limitations...the law book entries agree
with the general thrust of the sagas, showing a consensus among the population for allowing vengeance-taking but only within the limits of acceptable
windows of opportunity.40
Berserkers are also compared with wolves and typically portrayed as outlaws-waiting-to-happen. In
Ynglingasaga, Snorri describes berserkers “as mad as dogs or wolves,”41 and berserkers appear as trouble-makers in need of killing in Egil’s Saga,42 Grettir’s Saga,43 and Eyrbyggja Saga. The last echoes
Ynglingasaga and emphasizes how berserkers are outside of human society: “They used to go berserk...
they were wholly unlike human beings, storming about like mad dogs and afraid of neither fire nor
weapons.”44 In telling the story of the berserker brothers Halli and Leiknir, Eyrbyggja Saga portrays them
as lacking restraint. When they first enter Vermund’s service, they threaten him: “if ever you refuse us
anything which we want and you have the power to give, we won’t be at all pleased”. This threat bears
fruit when Halli asks Vermund to find him a wife, and then later when the berserker seeks the hand of
Skyr’s daughter. The match is not appropriate for the women or their families, and Skyr contrives to kill
the berserkers rather than confront them directly.45 Echoing the berserker’s lack of restraint, Icelandic law
carries a penalty of lesser outlawry simply for going berserk, as well as for “those men who are present
except if they restrain [the berserker]”. 46
Turning such social restraint on its head, there are two occasions in Norse myth where an individual
is forced to become wolf-like so that they will ignore normal social boundaries. The eddic poems about
Sigurd use wolf-meat as a means to make Guthorm kill Sigurd. The fourth stanza of Fragment of a Poem
about Sigurd and stanza 20 of A Short Poem about Sigurd both describe the same event:
Some roasted wolf, some sliced-up serpent,
wolf-meat they gave Guthorm to eat,
before they could, desiring [Sigurd’s] ruin,
lay their hands on the wise man.47
39 - Stephen E. Flowers, The Rune-Poems, Volume 1: Introduction, Texts, Translations and Glossary (Smithville: Rûna-Raven Press, 2002) 21.
40 - Byock, Viking Age Iceland 225-29.
41 - Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla 10.
42 - Scudder 124-126.
43 - Byock, Grettir’s Saga 113-114
44 - Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards, trans. Eyrbyggja Saga (London: Penguin Books, 1989) 68-69.
45 - Hermann Pálsson 68-71, 76-80.
46 - Byock, Viking Age Iceland 314.
47 - Larrington 174.
Óðrœrir 65
We should prepare Guthorm for the killing,
our younger brother, not so experienced;
he was away when the oaths were sworn,
when the oaths were sworn and the pledges made.48
By eating the meat, Guthorm becomes like a wolf, capable of savage violence that breaks the bonds
supporting the social order. Similarly, according to Snorri’s tale of the Æsir binding Loki with Narfi's guts,
they avoid direct responsibility for Narfi's slaying by turning his brother Vali into a wolf, causing Vali to
tear his brother Narfi to pieces”.49
Interestingly, the idea of feeding an outlaw echoes the "feeding wolves" motif of skaldic poetry. Just
as "gorging the greedy mount-of-ghouls”50 results in ruin and slaughter on the battlefield, so feeding an
outlaw supports their lawlessness. The Icelandic legal term bjarg-ráð means “help or shelter given to an
outlaw” and was forbidden, as shown by the legal term ú-alandi, meaning “one who must not be fed”.51
The first term is a compound derived from bjarga, meaning “to save, help” but with connotations of feeding or eating, as shown in the following phrases and one compound from Cleasby and Vigfusson page 65:
bjarg úti, of cattle, to graze
bjarg sjálfr, to gain one’s bread
hví hann byrgist svá lítt, why he ate so slowly
bjarg-leysi, starvation, destitution
The more explicitly food-associated term ú-alandi is derived from ala, which means “to give birth to,
nourish, support” and thus encompasses raising children along with feeding and aiding individuals.
The same meaning occurs in several poems with reference to wolves, both literally and metaphorically.
The verb meaning “reared” in the first stanza of The Old Norwegian Rune Poem, quoted above, is føðesk,
identical to Old Norse fœðisk, the reflexive of fœða52 or fæða, “to feed, give food to; to rear, bring up; to
give birth to.”53 The same word appears in Völuspá stanza 40,54 “In the east sat an old woman in Iron-wood
/ and nurtured there offspring of Fenrir.”55 Likewise, the eleventh stanza of Völuspá in skamma,56 incorporated as the fortieth stanza of Hyndluljóð by Larrington, relies on ala to convey the same idea: “Loki
got the wolf on Angrboda”.57 Ala also appears in stanza 12 of “Sigurðarkviða in skamma”58 as part of a
warning that recalls the law term ú-alandi:
Let the son go the same way as the father!
Don’t nurture for long the young wolf;
for to which man would revenge come easier—
afterwards in recompense—than if the son were still alive?59
48 - Larrington 185.
49 - Snorri Sturluson, Edda 52.
50 - Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla 647.
51 - Cleasby and Vigfusson 65, 658.
52 - Flowers 20-21, 43.
53 - Cleasby and Vigfusson 184.
54 - Eddukvæði.
55 - Larrington 9.
56 - Eddukvæði.
57 - Larrington 258.
58 - Eddukvæði.
59 - Larrington 183.
Óðrœrir 66
The theme of restraint also appears in the Hávamál, which frequently stresses caution and moderation
in adherence to social norms--from knowing when to speak and when to be silent, to how much one should
drink and how best to maintain friendships. Among these admonitions, stanzas 20 and 21 emphasize restraint in eating habits, providing a direct contrast to the imagery of feeding wolves:
The greedy man, unless he guards against this tendency,
will eat himself into lifelong trouble;
often he’s laughed at when he comes among the wise,
the man who’s foolish about his stomach.
Cattle know when they ought to go home,
and then they leave the pasture;
but the foolish man never knows
the measure of his own stomach.60
Icelandic law emphasizes restraint in its proscriptions against feeding or aiding outlaws and the penalty
of lesser outlawry for going berserk or failing to restrain a berserker. Icelandic society valued hóf, moderation, over the vengeance of feuding. If a dispute could be settled through arbitration, and crimes with
compensation, then Icelandic society benefited from the lack of violence and the resulting disruption. In
the opposite of hóf; óhóf, and Icelandic society's response to it, can be found the rationale for the Æsir’s
binding of Fenrir. As Byock describes:
The practice of óhóf was known as ójafnaðr, meaning unevenness, unfairness or injustice in dealings with others. Ójafnaðr, which is often translated as 'being overbearing' or 'unjust', disturbed the consensual nature of
decision-making and set in motion a series of coercive responses; for example, when an individual's greed or ambition threatened the balance of
power, other leaders banded together in an effort to counter his immoderate
behaviour.61
To the Icelanders, Fenrir is without restraint; he has óhóf. His appetite is never ending, his eating habits
ferocious (judging from Tyr's courage in feeding him), and his growth exponential. He is this way simply
because he is a wolf: a raving killer, a devourer of corpses, the epitome of lawless violence, as quick to
consume as fire and just as merciless in the destruction of wealth and well-being. While to modern sensibilities the preemptive actions of the Æsir appear unfair, Fenrir's very nature requires them to impose the
restraint he lacks.
The wolf is the will to cause strife among men, the hunger and greed that urges violence, the raving
prowess that breaks all bonds of social order. Because he cannot restrain himself (as the Æsir believe), he
must be bound, to protect the world of men and the gods. Metaphorically, the binding of the wolf symbolizes the restraint that all members of a community must exercise both within themselves and with each
other. Similarly, not feeding the wolf, binding him, and leaving a sword in his jaws, are the only hope we
have of social stability, for to feed the wolf is to encourage death, battle and the betrayal of all we hold
dear.
60 - Larrington 17.
61 - Byock, Viking Age Iceland 190-191
Óðrœrir 67
When the Æsir saw that the wolf was thoroughly bound they took the cord
that was hanging from the fetter, which is called Gelgia, and threaded it
through a great stone slab—this is called Gioll—and fastened the slab far
down in the ground...The wolf stretched its jaws enormously and reacted
violently and tried to bite them. They thrust into its mouth a certain sword;
the hilt touches its lower gums and the point its upper ones. This is its gumprop. It howls horribly and saliva runs from its mouth. This forms the river
called Hope. There it will lie until Ragnarok.62
62 - Snorri Sturluson, Edda 29.
Óðrœrir 68
Tree Cults in Frankish Heathenism
•
By Erik Lacharity
Heathendom can be understood as an interwoven web of relationships that are formed between both individuals
within a community and communities with each other, whether of men or holy powers, which express the heathen
worldview. These relationships may take any number of forms from gifting, group rituals and all other modes
of symmetrical or asymmetrical reciprocity, at times taking on qualities of altruism. Equally important to the
relationship is where the relationship or its expression is taking place. There are examples of historical heathens
engaging in a hall or *w­īh1, but also at places such as rivers, stones and trees.1 These places were widely used by
heathen peoples to fulfill these relationships. As modern heathens, we tend to focus less on our relationships related
to the features of our soil held to be sacred by the community and put most of our energy into symbel and blót2.
The focus of this paper will be threefold. The first focus will bring to light the historical expressions of tree cult
among the Franks, the medieval French and modern French peoples2 followed by the drawing of a line of similitude
1 - Reconstructed Old Low Franconian root-word by Keobler meaning ‘holy’ based on Proto-Germanic *w­īhaz used here in the sense of
Old Norse vé with the same reconstructed semantic value
2 - For the purpose of this article the history of the Frankish Empire and France will be divided into three periods. The Franks 300 – 800,
Medieval French 800 – 1500 and Modern French 1500 – present. Note that this is for ease of categorization and may not reflect the
Óðrœrir 69
back to the earliest expressions of the cult among the Frankish peoples. The second focus will be to understand why
this cult remained so strong up to the modern era and finally a point-by-point rendition of the core cult elements so
as to reconstruct the custom for modern practitioners of Frankisk Aldsido3.
Tree cult expression past and present
The annals of Frankish and French history reveal many forms of heathen behaviour and custom throughout
the people’s history. One was ritualistic customs relating to trees, waterways or fountains and stones as well as
numerous behaviours regarded as pagan in the eyes of the early Church3. The investigation needed to catalogue and
present the many customs of the Franks is beyond the scope of this paper and so only those customs relating to trees
will be observed here.
Tree cult among the Franks
The earliest mention of tree cult practices among the pre-Christian peoples of modern France is Sulpicius
Severus’ recount of the account of the ‘falling of the pine tree’ by St. Martin of Tours,4 in the early 5th century4. In
the story, St. Martin vows to destroy the heathen temples, to which the population does not wholly object. However,
when he vows to cut down their sacred pine, they take great offence. If we are to take this account as containing
some truth, then it points to those people being more concerned with the tree itself than any of their temples or idols.
Furthermore, St. Martin tells them that ‘there is nothing sacred in the trunk of a tree’5 and that it was ‘dedicated to
a demon’6 which further points to the importance of the cult site being the tree itself.
Then at the Council of Orléans in 533, Caesarius of Arles makes it clear that people should avoid partaking in
‘devilish banquets held in the vicinity of a shrine or springs or trees’ and that even if they did not participate in
the banquet that they should not eat the food offered to demons in their own home. This was compounded at the
Council in 541 when he compared such an act ‘to vomit’7. This then points to the ferocity of the early Frankish
Church towards the condemning of offering food to various heathen sites and then partaking in the feast. This is a
clear example of a ritual in which food is offered to a tree. It may be that the food is not offered to the tree per se,
but that the food is offered to a divine agent contained within the tree itself making the tree a natural contact point
between the offering party and the holy power within.
In 597 in a letter to Queen Brunhild of Austrasia5 Pope Gregory the Great asks her to:
This too we urge equally that you should restrain other subjects of yours under
the regulation of discipline so they do not sacrifice to idols, worship trees, make
sacrilegious sacrifices with heads of animals, since we have heard that many come
to the churches of Christians and, what is unspeakable, do not give up the worship
of demons.8
Once again we find the early Frankish Church, under the leadership of the pope, trying to quash the worshiping
of trees. It is clear in this statement that the object of worship is the tree as he clearly differentiates between idol
various historical periods of a kingdom at times much divided.
3 - Frankisk Aldsido is a reconstructed Old Low Franconian term used as a label for the modern reconstructionist expression of preChristian Frankish custom(s) and worldview(s) as coined by Erik Lacharity, this label translating to ‘Frankish old custom’ in Modern
English. See <http://aldsido.blogspot.com/2011/03/what-is-ie-ald-frankiskon-sido.html> for more info.
4 - The account is in reference to pagan custom among the people of Gallia Aquitania. Although the Franks had not invaded this land before
the 6th century, Tours’ life was a great inspiration to later Churchmen looking to combat paganism. Furthermore these various peoples
contemporary with the account joined the later polity of the Franks and presumably brought their earlier custom with them.
5 - Austrasia being one of the kingdoms of the Franks.
Óðrœrir 70
worship and tree worship. Once again this does not point to the tree itself being the agent bid, but that within it, a
divine power resides.
In 601 Gregory wrote to his nephew Mellitus among the Anglo-Saxons, that the heathen temples should not be
destroyed but rather that ‘if the [pagan] shrines are well built, it is essential that they should be changed from the
worship of devils to the service of true god.’9 Here we see one of the first cases of the Church attempting to convert
heathen holy places to Christian ones. Although this reference concerns the Anglo-Saxons, it should be noted that
the early English Church owed much to the leadership of the Frankish Church. It is therefore quite likely that if this
process of Christianization of heathen holy places must have also taken place in continental Francia. In the coming
pages I will demonstrate the lasting effects of such a doctrine on the folk Christianity found in modern France.
Venantius Fortunas, an influential court poet of the Merovingians, wrote many hymns throughout his life. Before
his death in 600 he had composed a very influential hymn entitled Vexillia Regis (the Royal Banner), which further
served to blur the lines between heathen Frankish beliefs towards trees and those of Christianity. Here he used Psalm
96 ‘Tell it out among the heathen that the Lord reigneth from the Tree’ as the last line of strophe 3 and reiterates the
connection between God and the Tree in strophe 4:
O Tree of Beauty! Tree of Light!
O Tree with royal purple dight!
Elect upon who’s faithful breast
Those holy limbs should find their rest!10
The tree is a powerful religious symbol in many world religions including Christianity, but it cannot be mistaken
that during this historical period of the Frankish Church trees were an important element of heathen folk religion.
The constant battle of the Church to supplant these beliefs with Christian ones must have been on the minds of the
royal court and so to formulate verses in honour of trees in a Christian light, must have been a powerful tool against
old heathen customs. Albeit, the common Frank may not have been fluent in Latin, they did rapidly assimilate
with the more numerous Gallo-Romans11 so it would not have been long before Latin became the Lingua Franca.
With this rapid Latinization we could expect that many Franks, not only courtiers, would have heard the hymns of
Fortunas and would surely have been influenced by them.
In 658 at the Council of Nantes the cult of trees, wells and stones were condemned. It was further added that the
common folk believed that these sites had curative powers and would bring them gifts and lights. These trees were
so sacred that the people refused to cut their limbs or burn them and so the Church urged its clergy to do just that12.
Once again we see, as in the time of St. Martin that those participating in heathen acts felt strongly about the sanctity
of the trees and refused to bring them harm. St. Eligius at another Council of Nantes (possibly 9th century) also
ordered the destruction of sacred fountains and trees. Once again, the people refused to bring the wood of sacred
trees home for firewood13.
Into the 8th century we have evidence of Charlemagne’s crusade against his Saxon neighbours, who still
performed sacred acts at or near trees. We know that in 780 the Christian Franks enacted many capitularies against
the perceived heathenism of the Saxons. Such as one dealing with the ‘performing of religious rites beside streams
or trees or sacred stones’ or ‘offering prayer at sacred springs or trees’14. One constant theme that we see emerging
from these various examples is the mention of making ‘vows’ or ‘prayers’ to trees such as by Caesarius of Arles.
The word often describing these vows or these trees is sacrivi.15 Hendrik Kern in his translation of the Lex Salica
translates sariuus as sacrifus.16 the sacred, and glosses it with uotiuus meaning ‘vow’.17 As such it is possible that
what has come down to us as vow not only means a prayer or solemn vow, but also (or accompanied by) a votive
offering.
Óðrœrir 71
Tree cult among the Medieval French and Modern French
In Medieval France, there was a strong tradition of trees playing an important role in community. Although this
role was no longer cloaked in its original heathen narrative and now reflected the various folk-Christian narratives,
the central role that the tree cult played in the community still held the same purpose of being the focal point of
communal rituals relating to unseen forces6. It will now be necessary to peer into the folkloric record to find those
vestiges of the Frankish tree cults for the Church by this time either turned a blind eye to the various practices
or integrated the trees into the many local folk-Christian customs. Many of the following sources will be from
French and Belgian folklorists who collected information in the field through interviews with common folk. It is
important to remember that although these customs and beliefs recorded in the 19th and 20th century are relatively
recent, this does not mean that the recorded material is in and of itself recent. I shall demonstrate in each case that
the information gathered by these folklorists does indeed point to more ancient practices and were at the time of
recording investigated for the first time with a more critical eye.
First let’s take a look at the chanson de geste7 the Song of Roland (11th century). Within its pages references to
trees are numerous, yet they are not cast as agents worthy of offering, but rather as witnesses to important events.
The pine tree is referenced ten times and nine of those references place the pine tree at a momentous event. These
events include councils held by Charlemagne, scenes of treason and armament and sense of death, namely that
of Roland.18 According to Brault, the instances where the trees are present are a clear motif of Romanesque style
reflecting clear Christian iconography.19 This custom of holding court beneath a tree is by no means uncommon. St.
Louis (1214-1270) is said to have rendered justice while sitting beneath an oak tree in the forest of Vicennes.20 There
are also examples in Germany of court-lindens or Gerichtslinde that were known to be places to render justice and
proclaim regulations to the citizens of a village, such as in Diedendorf up until 1743.21 In Brussels c.1850 a priest
gave sermons at the Elterken, an ancient linden tree, to his people in times of war.22
Brault is right when he asserts that the trees in the Song of Roland represent Christian iconography, yet the
similitude between the councils held by Charlemange (back dated to 8th century), those by St. Louis in the 13th
century and the proclamations of the mayor and priest in the 18th century point to something more. Although the
narrative that is given is clearly Christian and inspired by the many symbols inherent within the faith, the role of the
tree remains the same as it was when the many Frankish councils were forbidding the making of vows to trees---the
clear role of the tree was as a witness to the community and point of maintenance of communal order.
For if we imagine a time when men were travelling to a specific tree to make vows, surrounded by their community,
surely we can imagine a community coming out to the village court-tree to hear proclamations and justice rendered
by their leaders. The fact the episodes of history in which these trees are mentioned take place either after church,
such as with St. Louis, during sermons as in Brussels or that these trees were confined to a churchyard as it was with
the tree in Diedendorf23 gives them a communal ritual aspect.
I will now describe four cases of tree cults in modern France and Belgium, both ancestral Frankish territory, and
compare them to each other and isolate the pertinent information in each to draw a line back to the various councils
and edicts of the early Frankish Church.
Elterken of Brussels
During the period of Rogations8 on the 17th of May, the clergy of St. Gudule, after a visit to the chapel of Ixelles,
6 - It shall be demonstrated further on that the cults were alive and well.
7 - French heroic lay
8 - A celebration of the Roman Catholic Church consisting of fasting, public prayer and processions three days before the Ascension and
lasting days or weeks being locale specific with regards to custom. Instituted in 469 by St. Mamert.
Óðrœrir 72
travel to Elterken where a priest performs an open air sermon, but only in times of war. It was also believed by
the residents that after raining, if a child was placed under that linden, the rain drops could cure fevers. During the
Kermesse9 the clergy and laymen would dance around the tree, sing and make merriment and eventually would have
a feast at its foot. This celebration lasted no less than six hours before the clergy and folk would return to St. Gudule.
This tree was also called a vryheideboom or freedom tree as it at one time offered sanctuary or divine protection to
the seeker.24
From this example we can see that the tree was considered a focal point of communal activities such as feast,
dancing and sermons. It also had curative powers and the ability to provide sanctuary.
At Vauzelles
There was constructed in the 15th century a chapel near a sacred elm. As the legend tells, the logging activities
of a few local residents, revealed a statuette of the Virgin Mary in the trunk of a fallen tree. This statuette could not
be physically removed from its home and seeing this as an act of supernatural will, they erected the chapel at that
same place.25
In this example, although nothing is mentioned of the communal activities of the local residents it does
demonstrate the belief that the divinity of the tree was inherently within the tree itself.
Namêche
On the right side of the Meuse and at a certain height, in a village called Namêche
there is located a tree that is said to be sacred to St. Anne. It is there that according
to popular belief, the witches gather on Good Friday or Midsummer10 and in the
holy nights so that they may dance their infernal dance around its trunk.26
This tree is dedicated to a saint, hence to a divine power. Additionally, allusions are made to either real dancing
ceremonies or imagined ones on holy nights.
Notre-Dame de Zichem
Around the year 1300, Lodewyk Van Velthem composed a work called Spiegel historiael which told that between
Diest and Zichem there was a sacred oak that formed a cross that was well venerated by the locals. Many would visit
it in hopes of cures to ailments and healings for paralysis. Those who were healed left their crutches and bandages
at its trunk.
This is why there is a sanctuary dedicated to the Virgin Mary at Scherpenheuvel covered over with bandages. It
was to give the site a Christian importance that the clergy attached to the tree a likeness of the Virgin Mary. They
tried in vain to abolish this cult, but by 1400 many traveled to the tree for cures for their fever. Nearly a hundred
years later, as J. Lipse tells it, an extraordinary event augmented visitation to the tree.
A shepherd, who was grazing his herd on the mountain, stumbled upon the fallen image of the Virgin Mary.
Wanting to keep it for himself, he took it into his hands and immediately he was frozen and could not take a step.
The owner of the grazing lands became worried that his shepherd had not returned at nightfall, went to find him.
When he came upon the man, he was told of the incident and then returned the likeness of the Virgin to the tree. At
9 - A church sponsored fair
10 - Here translated as Midsummer from the French St. Jean (St. John’s eve), it is held by the French and Belgians that this date is
Midsummer.
Óðrœrir 73
this time he is freed from his plight and returns the herd to the home of his master.
In 1587 after the original likeness was stolen, the Archbishop of Zichem bought a new statue from a pious
woman of Diest and placed in the empty crevasse left by the theft. People still flocked to the site and concluded that
the statue replacing the original must have been the originally stolen one, as the healings continued.
In 1602 a small chapel was built beside the tree to accommodate the pilgrims. One year later in a moment of
zeal, pilgrims began taking pieces of the tree home with them. Twenty thousand pilgrims then descended upon the
site, and to prevent calamity, the clergy was forced to cut the tree down. One half of the tree was sent to Austria
to Archduke Albert and the other half was carved into a likeness of the Virgin Mary. To this day she is venerated
throughout Belgium.’27
From this lengthy and detailed account we can see that the oak had curative powers. It also had an image of the
Virgin Mary affixed within it and many divine interventions were the result of the image. It was clearly a supraregional cult center and still is to this day.
Review and comparison between Frankish and French tree cults
Harkening back to the cutting down of the pine tree by St. Martin of Tours, we can see with the later examples of
the modern French cults that contrary to his assertion that there is nothing sacred held within the trees, there indeed
was. From modern France to Spain, Italy, Austria, Germany and Belgium, we can count no less than 276 sacred sites
to those of Veuzelles and Zichem.28 The prevailing characteristics of these cults are their curative powers, where
the sick bring their bandages in exchange for healing. All are either named after a saint and/or have some saintly or
Christian iconography affixed in/on its trunk.
Hence, due to the efforts of Pope Gregory the Great, the cutting down of the sacred trees was no longer necessary.
Simply by replacing older heathen imagery and narrative with (folk) Christian ones, the divine power of the tree is
credited to the saint’s intercession. There can be little doubt that not all clergymen were supportive of the cults, but
the decision to tolerate or condemn the practices were made at a local level and no longer imposed by Church-wide
edicts.
Clearly, it was the tree that was/is divine and worthy of worship and not the saint. This does not however
preclude the notion that there was some agent acting through the tree, as was claimed by St. Martin, but that the tree
is a necessary point of contact between man and the holy power of the tree. There is little doubt also that the early
Christian hymns told stories which could be interpreted through Christian or heathen eyes, such as those written
by Fortunas, and had a profound affect on the people. Highlighting those similitudes would only serve to reinforce
the heathen beliefs, yet providing a new and accepted religious narrative to cloak the practices in the end preserved
them.
Caesarius of Arles in 533 made a strong case in condemning the feasting near trees and making offerings to them.
Some 1300 years later, we see that trees such as Elterken still benefited from feasting by the community. What is
more, the local clergy partakes and encourages the event, by processing to the tree with the folk and dancing and
feasting for six hours. The event may have lost the custom of offering food to the tree, but that does not mean that
food was not eaten in honour of their local and national saint St. Gudule. This would be only a slight deviance of
the heathen narrative for the Chrisitian one. It is important to remember that although not every tree that is regarded
sacred today was historically a heathen holy site, what is key is that the customs persisted and new sites were
founded based upon customs and beliefs rooted in heathendom.
Gregory, in his letter to Brunhild in 597 urges the Queen to keep her subjects from worshiping trees and idols. It
must be clearly stated here that idols and trees are two different things and should not be regarded in the same light.
All the differences can not be wholly known without a thorough analysis of the two forms of cult. Gregory makes a
strong distinction, as did most contemporary clergymen, between the two. When he urges his nephew not to destroy
Óðrœrir 74
the trees, he insists that the idols must be destroyed. He most likely was influenced by the life of St. Martin, who also
put an emphasis on the destruction of idols and temples. The reason for this difference in treating both cultic forms
must lie in the fact that trees can be repurposed with Christian ritual and in time the affixing of Christian saintly
idols. The original heathen idols must have been of such a nature contrary to the teachings of Christian doctrine that
they could not be repurposed and were thus deemed too wicked to ‘save’.
In 658 at the council of Nantes, two important pieces of information regarding the sanctity of trees comes down
to us. We know that people held these places to provide healings and that the trees were so sacred that to bring any
of their wood home was taboo. From the example of Zichem and Elterken and many more not mentioned here, we
know that the curative powers of trees was well known and accepted and so it would make sense that edicts were
pronounced to curb this belief. As for the sacredness of the wood and the taboo with bringing it home, the tree
at Zichem demonstrates at least one case where modern sacred trees were pillaged of their wood, to bring their
powers home. This is of little surprise as by the age of the crusades, relics such as the True Cross were extremely
common in the West. Owning a piece of the Cross meant that man was in direct contact with the Christian divine and
would benefit from its miraculous benefits. By the 12th century nearly every monarch in Europe, from Scandinavia
to Brittan possessed a piece.29 It would thus be only natural that the common folk would want such a thing. So,
between the 7th and 12th century, heathen belief and Christian belief was greatly conflated and the taboo concerning
the possessing of a piece of a holy tree (which was at times used as a metaphor for the True Cross) was now
something to be coveted.
The making of vows at trees, as referenced by Caesarius of Arles in his sermons, most likely referred to solemn
words spoken to a tree, whether a prayer or bidding. The idea of a vow being a part of a votive act finds its modern
form in the cultic expression of the tree at Zichem. People left their crutches and bandages at these trees most likely
as an act of faith in the power of the tree. In a sense, after they make their vow, wish11 or prayer they bring their
lesser healing implements (those made by man) in exchange or in demonstration of proof of the tree’s superior and
divine healing power.
The Medieval references to trees witnessing or presiding over judgements are another testament to the divinity
of the tree. By holding court near a village tree, held to be important by the folk, the idea is reinforced that the tree
is at the heart of the community and effectively its hub binding the spokes. In the case of the tree at Diedendorf and
the Elterken, we can clearly see that the tree is made to take part in the life of the community. From feasts, dances,
law proclaiming, court deciding, warring, it is made to feel a part of the people and may well be seen as overseeing
the doom and weal of the folk.
Essential elements of the Frankish tree cult
Although the enumerated elements below may not be present in all historical and modern expressions of the tree
cults, the list is provided for a general overview of its many components.
The tree is divine
Solemn communal vows and events are held before and involve it
Feasts and merriment are held at the tree
Food is shared with the tree
The tree has curative powers
The tree is not a cultivated variety12
11 - In Modern French voeux translates to wish, which may well be the root of the term ‘wishing tree’
12 - It should be noted that in the sources none of the trees are what we would consider a cultivated variety, but the decision as to what tree
cultivar to honour should be up to the modern kindred to determine.
Óðrœrir 75
Modern reconstructions of the Frankish tree cult
First and foremost it must be understood by the modern heathen that although there are mentions of trees, idols,
springs and temples in the extant sources of the early cult, it should not be assumed that all of these sacred sites must
be found together, in the same place. We now know that whatever it is, a divine agent, a holy power contained within
its trunk or the trunk of the tree itself that was held to be the source of the trees power and devotion, the case must be
made that the addition of religious iconography to the tree is a later Christian product. Even the many cases, though
not all here enumerated, of statues of the Virgin Mary miraculously finding their way into the tree must be viewed
with a high degree of suspicion. Clearly these are legends or true events that developed as a means to legitimize the
power of the tree in the eyes of the Christian. Hence, any modern expression of the cult should be devoid of idols
affixed in or upon the tree being venerated.
As has been reiterated above many times over, the trees were points of communal affairs. Whether these are
affairs of a purely religious or secular nature, we will never know. We do know, however, that to our modern
understanding there were rituals and celebrations located at the trees or in their honour of a religious nature and
others seemingly secular. In any case words would have been spoke aloud and shared, not merely words of the
mundane type, but words that implicated the doom of a community or an individual. In a modern expression,
the tree to be honoured must be made to feel welcome and a part of the community. Festivals should be held in
its honour, in which all participate and festivals of the community must be held to which the tree is welcomed.
This is not to say that the tree was viewed as equal to the community; clearly it was not as its destruction caused
unimaginable distress to its community and in time Christianity had to mould itself to the realities of the cult rather
than the cult being extinguished all together. In short, when a modern Frankish (or other) heathen community feels
the need to celebrate, it should do so in part or whole at/with the tree. In modern France and Belgium it is rare, in the
older villages and towns, not to find a communal tree. This demonstrates further that at the heart of every Frankish
community was found its tree.
Feasting, drinking and merriment are vital to the health of a heathen’s constitution. If one wishes to adopt the
Frankish tree cult(s) as a part of their communal practices, feasting should take place in the vicinity of the tree and it
should be felt to take part in the festivities. What’s more is that if not all the community members can participate at
the feast, a share of the food should be brought to them so that they may presumably share in the prosperity afforded
by the tree.
A further testament to the power of the tree over the individual and his kin is its curative powers. In all documented
expressions of the cult, modern and ancient, it is man who goes and seeks the tree for healing. So powerful is this
belief up to this day that many trees known for healing the sick are heaped over with ligatures, bandages and
crutches as tokens of the tree’s success in curing the sick. Thus, the tree in the modern Frankish community must
be seen as holding the health of the folk in its limbs and that it has the final say over the providence of good health
bestowed upon mankind.
Conclusion
It is my sincerest hope that all modern heathens see the value inherent in claiming a tree for one’s folk. I see it
as something that is lacking for many heathens today. To my Frankish brothers and sisters, it is my hope that the
information here gathered will help illuminate the possibilities of Frankish heathen cult expression and that through
knowledge we may rebuild the many worldviews of the historical ancestors of our Aldsido.
Óðrœrir 76
The Finnish Tradition
An Introduction
•
By Anssi Alhonen
For every nation land is a sacred thing; for it is living on a land that gives birth to a characteristic and unique
way of perceiving the world. The ancient Finns lived in a world in which the survival and continuation
of life was dependent on the conditions of nature. Maintaining balance between man and nature was
crucial as it was the basis on which people’s livelihoods, lifestyle, religious beliefs, and even language and
morals, were developed1.
The aim of this article is to provide an overview of the indigenous Finnish spiritual tradition. For
the sake of brevity it is not possible to include all of the possible customs and beliefs. Traditions have
varied substantially through time, from the Shamanism of the Stone Age, to the religious practices of later
agrarian communities. There have also been additional geographical differences, for example, Western
Finland was historically affected by influences from countries to the West and the South, while Eastern
Finland, although retaining many archaic traditions, was influenced by the Russians and the Eastern
Orthodox Church.
It is not my wish to sketch a time line for the evolution of religious beliefs in Finland, nor is it my
wish to present the geographical differences in great detail. This paper shall instead focus on the religious
beliefs and customs of the Finnish folk religion as documented during the 18th and 19th centuries. Strictly
speaking, this is not a paper on reconstructed paganism. Literary sources of pre-Christian Finnish paganism
are scarce or nearly nonexistent. Therefore, in my opinion, it is probably impossible to reconstruct any
kind of meaningful version of Finnish paganism by using sources outside of those originating from the
syncretist folk religion. In other words, when trying to understand traditional Finnish spirituality our main
sources are the traditional songs, spells and stories which were collected by Finnish scholars in the 18th,
19th and early 20th centuries.
When studying the beliefs of my Finnish ancestors I am often surprised to see how many of the old
traditions continued to be practiced even after conversion to Christianity. Christian saints were equated
with the old spirits and most holidays from Christian folk tradition carried their share of customs and
beliefs from pre-Christian times. The oldest medieval churches in Finland were actually built on top of
old sacrificial sites2. The perplexing result of this being that the common folk continued to worship the
original spirit of the place, but inside the new church. Court records from the 17th century indicate that
people were convicted of blasphemy because they had made ‘illegal’ sacrifices inside these churches.
The ancient tradition of making communal sacrifices at these sacred sites seems to have transformed
into the custom of giving donations to church officials. The donations of items such as elk antlers and
bear hides were used in church decorations in a similar manner as they were probably used at sacred
sites during pagan times. The old practices persisted in the guise of novel social and theological ideas,
for example, in some villages it was customary to honor the bear killed during the bear feast (a tradition
that perhaps dates back to the Stone Age) by playing the church bells. Another example of this, much to
1 - Hyry, Katja and Pentikäinen, Antti and Pentikäinen, Juha. Lumen ja valon kansa: Suomalainen kansanusko. Porvoo: WSOY, 1995.
2 - Oja, Arvo. “Karhuntaljat entisajan kirkoissa.” In Valoa kansalle, edited by Pekka Laaksonen, Ulla Piela and Maija-Liisa Heikinmäki,
58-63. Forssa: Forssan kirjapaino Oy, 1989.
Óðrœrir 77
the dismay of church officials, was the participation of village priests at their local feasts in honor of the
thunder god Ukko during the 17th century3.
In rural areas, Christian and Pagan influences were liberally mixed, giving birth to a syncretic religion
that was still very much alive in the latter part of the 19th Century, at least in the remote parts of Karelia.
It is for this reason that even though literary sources for Finnish paganism are very scarce, one could argue
that the ethnic religion of the Finns never truly died out but continued to live and take on new forms; even
during the thousand years of official Christianity.
This presentation of indigenous Finnish religious beliefs and practices will focus on four key factors:
1. Belief in spirits that reside in nature (including those of animals).
2. The concept of ancestor spirits living in the afterlife, instead of heaven or hell.
3. The survival of Balto-Finnic myths and spells as a living oral tradition.
4. A way of life closely connected to nature based almost entirely on self-sufficient agriculture or hunting and fishing.
I have concluded that the aforementioned factors, which can be viewed independently of Christian
theology and liturgy, can be considered the defining features of traditional Finnish folk religion. It is my
contention that the Finnish folk faith offers a unique and holistic world view which can be understood for
the most part without reference to Christian theological concepts. My main sources of information for this
are the Finnish Folklore Archive and, of course, the works of leading Finnish scholars in this field.
I. World View
The ancient Finnish conception of the world was a layered one. The world was thought to include a
flat disc-like earth that was covered over by a huge sky-dome4. The dome was called the ‘lid of the sky’
(Taivaankansi) and the night sky was known as the ‘bright lid’5 (Kirjokansi). At the center of the sky-dome
where the sky-god resided, the giant world-pole, or ‘axis mundi’, supported the dome. This pole was
connected to the Pole Star, ‘Taivaannaula’ (also known as the ‘nail-star’ or ‘sky-nail’), and this connection
allowed the world pole to rotate around its axis. In certain cases, the central object that was believed to
support the sky and all creation was considered to be a world tree (the ‘Great Oak’) or the world mountain.
Today, respected scholars identify this ‘axis mundi’ with a mysterious object from Finnish mythology, the
Sampo. It is for this reason that the main theme in Finnish mythology, the fight between the cosmic gods
and the forces of Pohjola for the Sampo, can be interpreted as a symbol for the eternally rotating world
and the struggle between life and death, order and chaos6.
The roots of ancient Finnish cosmological concepts can be found in Proto-Uralic mythology; a
mythology for which the scholar V.V. Napolskikh has proposed a fascinating reconstruction7. According
to Napolskikh the Proto-Uralic world view consisted of three different worlds or layers of reality, the
upper, middle, and lower worlds.
The upper world is located in the skies and also to the south. The great birch tree (or in Finnish
tradition, the giant oak) grows there. At the roots of the tree, a spring flows and marks the source of
3 - Oja, Arvo. “Karhuntaljat entisajan kirkoissa.”
4 - Talve, Ilmar. Suomen kansankulttuuri. SKS, 1990.
5 - Hyry and Pentikäinen & Pentikäinen, Lumen ja valon kansa.
6 - Kemppinen, Iivar. Suomalainen mytologia. 1960.
7 - Napolskikh, V.V. “Proto-Uralic World Picture: A Reconstruction”. In Ethnologica Uralica 3 (Northern religions and shamanism), edited
by M. Hoppal and J. Pentikäinen, 3-20. Budapest: Akademiai Kiado, 1992.
Óðrœrir 78
the world river. Near the tree and spring there is a warm lake, or ‘sea of life’, where water birds and human
souls are renewed. In the Finnish folk religion this upper world became a warm and light world located
in the south called Lintukoto (or ‘home of the birds’) and the sea of life became a body of warm water
surrounding the Lintukoto. This upper world is ruled by an old woman, the ruler of all life, protectress of
childbirth, motherhood and water birds. She is the sender of souls and the mother of the gods. In Finnish
mythology a mysterious virgin by the name of Iro is said to have given birth to the three divine brothers
at the beginning of times. In Finnish folk religion, the divine mother is the Virgin Mary (or ‘Maaria’ in
Finnish) and she is remembered in songs and spells as a spiritual mother, healer, helper and protectress of
motherhood.
Uralic belief states that migrating water birds are messengers of the gods that are traveling from the
upper world. According to this belief these birds travel between worlds via the Milky Way, or Linnunrata
(the ‘Birds’ Way’) in Finnish and in other Balto-Finnic languages. Birds such as black throated divers,
geese and maybe swans were thought to carry human souls to the otherworld8. The Milky Way was then
seen as the heavenly version of the world river; flowing down from the upper world to the middle and
lower worlds.
Beyond the middle world and to the north lies the lower world. There the world river flows into a
freezing cold ocean called ‘Sarajas’ and it is in the middle of this ocean that we find the dark and cold
‘Pohjola’ (‘the Northern Place’). Sarajas was perhaps considered to be one and the same as the northern
Arctic Ocean; an ocean into which many northern rivers flow and the Northern Lights were said to glow
near the gates of Pohjola. For all intents and purposes, Pohjola is located both in the north and under the
flat earth. According to certain folk songs, from Pohjola the world river runs into a wide bottomless abyss,
and eventually into the land of the dead.
In the Finnish folk religion this land of the dead, called either Manala or Tuonela, is also located in
the center of a cold ocean; giving the appearance that Pohjola and the underworld are one and the same
thing. When the Finnish healer, or ‘tietäjä’, fell into a trance, his soul faring to the underworld to gain
information from the souls of deceased legendary shamans was said to fall through a slit (Lovi). The word
‘Lovi’ is probably a synonym for Louhi, the matron of Pohjola. If this is the case both ‘Lovi’ or ‘Louhi’
would signify a hole in the ground which can be used as a pathway to the land of the dead, or as it may
also be known, Pohjola9.
In some folk songs the world mountain is said to rise up from Pohjola and reach all the way up to the
sky-dome and the Pole Star. This world mountain is called ‘Stone Hill’ or ‘Pain Hill’ and in healing spells,
pain that is exorcised from the patient, returns to this mountain. The mountain rising up from the land of
the dead and up to the skies signifies a place in which all pain and suffering is gone and the world is as one.
The world mountain motif is well-known from the cosmologies of several nations10.
In the underworld everything is backwards when compared to the human world. Left is right, up is
down and so forth. There the world river turns around and becomes ‘Tuonen Joki’, the river of the land of
the dead. In this form the river flows from north to south and upwards again towards the upper world. In
the heavens it returns to the spring at the roots of the birch tree. From there it flows down through the skies
once more as a world river. This is the eternal cycle of life11.
8 - Kuperjanov, Andres. “Names in Estonian Folk Astronom – From ‘Bird’s way’ to ‘Milky way’”. In Electronic Journal of Folklore 22,
49-61. Folk Belief and Media Group of Estonian Literary Museum, 2002.
9 - Kemppinen, Iivar. Suomalainen mytologia.
10 - Ibid.
11 - Napolskikh, V.V. “Proto-Uralic World Picture: A Reconstruction”.
Óðrœrir 79
II. The Cosmic Gods
The ancient Finns had two different creation myths recounting how the world or the earth was formed.
One is the ‘Earth-Diver’ myth which is widely spread in Eurasia and Northern America, and which was
also preserved by the Orthodox Karelians. The myth tells about a bird who dived into the primeval sea
and brought up earth from the seabed. The other myth tells that the world was formed when a water bird
laid its egg on the knee of Väinämöinen, who was at the time floating in the primeval sea. Väinämöinen
moved his leg and the egg broke forming the world. This myth is thought to have been adopted by the
Baltio-Finnic people as a southern cultural loan during the Iron Age12.
The myths recount that at the beginning of time the virgin Iro gave birth to three divine sons,
Väinämöinen, Ilmarinen and Joukahainen. Väinämöinen was the oldest and Joukahainen the youngest. It
is to these brothers that the appellation the ‘Cosmic Gods’ is given, since they were born before the world
was formed and contributed to making the world what it is today. The divine brothers seem to be connected
with the primeval elements. The oldest, Väinämöinen, is associated with water. In Finnish spells and folk
songs water is called the “oldest of the brothers”. Iron is thought to be the second oldest of the brothers,
especially when connected with the air from the bellows of the smith’s forge. Which is clearly the element
of the smith-god Ilmarinen. Therefore the youngest brother mentioned then is by virtue of logic, fire, or
Joukahainen (although there is no direct evidence of this connection in the folklore). Together water, iron,
wind and fire made it possible for humans to create better weapons and tools. These objects gave birth to
the whole of civilization. It is for this reason that the cosmic gods are not only considered to be gods of
natural elements, but also protectors of culture.
As previously mentioned, Väinämöinen is heavily associated with water. He creates the world through
his movements while floating in the primeval sea; he builds a legendary boat and swims several times to
the underworld in the form of a fish or otter. When Väinämöinen wishes to leave the human world he sails
in his boat through fiery rapids. Additionally, Väinämöinen’s famous kantele is made from the jawbone
of a pike and the ancient Finns called certain patterns on the surface of water the “Path of Väinämöinen”.
When the spiritual power of water was conjured, Väinämöinen was called. Hence the Finnish scholar
Kaarle Krohn concludes that originally Väinämöinen was the god of water13. Väinämöinen is also a mighty
shaman and the world’s first healer who travels to the underworld to receive the right words for healing
and enchants the whole world with his singing. Consequently, Väinämöinen is the god of water, shamans,
healers and poets.
The sky god Ilmarinen first brought fire to the world by causing the first lightning to strike over the
primeval sea. Väinämöinen and Ilmarinen appear together in many myths. Väinämöinen is also involved
in bringing the fire to the world but he is not the bringer of fire since his element is water. As a sky god,
Ilmarinen (or Ilmari, Ilmaroinen, Ilmamo, Ilmamoinen) rules over the elements of air: clouds, thunder,
lightning, wind, storm and calm, and rain and snow. Ilmarinen is also a creator god who forges the sky-dome
and the world-pillar. When he is done, he places the stars on the sky-dome. As a god of fire, wind and rain,
he was the god of slash-and-burn farmers. As a god of wind and storm, he helped sailors and fishermen.
Because of his intricate wisdom regarding fire and wind, he was the guardian of smiths. Ilmarinen might
have also been a fatherly god who people turned to when they were in trouble14.
It is possible that the strong folk devotion to the Virgin Mary, which continued long after Finland
12 - Talve, Ilmar. Suomen kansankulttuuri.
13 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto. Porvoo-Juva: WS Bookwell Oy, 1915 / 2008.
14 - Salo, Unto. “Ukko, the Finnish God of Thunder – Separating Pagan Roots From Christian Accretions”. In Mankind Quaterly,
December 1 / 2005.
Óðrœrir 80
officially converted from Catholicism to Lutheranism in the 16th century, was based on the memory of
older female deities. ‘Maaria’ is a popular figure in Finnish spells and her help is sought for a multitude
of reasons. For instance, bear hunters used to petition Maaria, as they believed she had a role in the birth
of bears. Maaria was also believed to protect cattle and save people in times of crisis. In addition, she
was said to heal the sick, help weavers and bring lifesaving warmth to people15. In the folklore, squirrels
and bees are associated with Maaria, and just as in a number of other European mythologies, the bee
symbolizes sexuality. In Maaria’s case, however, the bee signifies a lack of sexuality, virginity. The bee
is also believed to bring Maaria healing ointments from the sky and it is here that we find an interesting
connection between the mother of Lemminkäinen and Maaria. After the death of Lemminkäinen, his
mother collects the pieces of her son and brings the body back to life with magic and ointment brought by
a bee from sky. This theme of death and rebirth gives Lemminkäinen Christ-like features, and so it would
follow that Maaria and the mother of Lemminkäinen are the same being.
Lemminkäinen is the young hero of the folk poems. He is proud and brave, but short-sighted and prone
to bragging. Lemminkäinen is also a warrior and a skillful rune singer. He is the combination of a tietäjä
and a proud viking hero. In modern times, people have focused on Lemminkäinen’s role as a wanton
lover-boy, creating almost like a Kalevala version of Don Juan. Most respected scholars, however, have
emphasized the archaic shamanistic nature of Lemminkäinen16. Juha Pentikäinen sees eternal wandering
as the main attribute of Lemminkäinen. He is not invited to the feast at Päivölä (meaning the place of
the sun) but Lemminkäinen chooses to travel there anyway. During his journey he overcomes several
dangers which resemble shamanistic imagery, such as a flaming birch tree. When he arrives at the feast
Lemminkäinen is disrespected. As a result he kills the master of the house in a fight and flees to avoid
retaliation. Eventually Lemminkäinen is hunted down and killed; his body cut into pieces and thrown into
the Tuonela river. Then as previously related, Lemminkäinen’s mother collects the pieces of her son and
brings him back to life.
Lemminkäinen is a hero who, like Odysseus, is forced to travel for eternity, homeless and always
compelled to leave for one reason or another. In light of this it is worth mentioning that traveling between
mythical places is also the role of the tietäjä’s soul. Another shamanistic element to Lemminkäinen is his
dramatic death; he is cut into pieces and given a new life. This sequence of events resembles the initiation
rite of a new shaman, where the shaman-to-be must die and be reborn as a shaman17. Pentikäinen argues
that the feast of Päivölä takes place in the realm of the sun, not in Pohjola as Lönnrot’s Kalevala and
certain other later sources claim. The sun symbolizes the center of the world. Lemminkäinen tries to reach
that place and the celestial gods, but he fails and disappears into the sun; he is destined to die and to be
resurrected18.
III. Haltija: ‘The Invisible Nature’
For the ancient Finns, everything in nature had its own invisible soul which was somehow connected
to the natural phenomenon perceived by the senses. Trees, water, stones, fire, animals and plants were all
controlled by guardian spirits, or ‘haltijat’ in Finnish. This was also true of some places or beings in the
human domain; such as home, fireplace, cattle, and barn. They were each considered to have their own
15 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
16 - Pentikäinen, Juha. “Lemminkäinen – Shaman or God?”. In Ethnologica Uralica 1 (Northern religions and shamanism), edited by M.
Hoppal and J. Pentikäinen, 287-309. Budapest: Ethnographic Institute of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, 1989.
17 - Pentikäinen, Juha. “Lemminkäinen – Shaman or God?”.
18 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 81
Gifting the Nature Spirits: A woman gives offerings to the spirits of the forest at a “cupstone” located in Harola, in Eura, Finland.
guardian spirits. Even non-concrete things like death and sleep had their own spiritual forces19. Also, each
human being was accompanied by a guardian spirit that helped the person to reach his goals and protected
him against physical dangers and hostile spiritual forces20. The word ‘haltija’ is of Germanic origin and
is interpreted to mean ‘mother’ or ‘father’. In Eastern Finland nature spirits had names like ‘Mother’,
‘Father’, ‘Old Man’ and ‘Old Woman’21.
These guardian spirits protected their own domains and drove away intruders and any beings with evil
intentions. If a person treated the spirits with respect he could gain their protection, but bad or thoughtless
behavior would result in revenge. Respected house ‘haltija’ protected the house and warned the family
of any approaching dangers. If insulted, however, the spirit could burn down the house or cause other
damage. Spirits were generally considered to be invisible but sometimes they appeared to people, albeit
mostly in dreams22. This belief in guardian spirits made people aware of the spiritual order of things. It
was well understood that humans could not for instance, rule the forest, but instead they had to treat it as
an equal partner. The ancient Finns lived in constant interaction with both the visible and invisible forces
of nature. In order to secure luck and success in life one had to maintain a balance with the spirits.
Ukko-Ilmarinen: the Ruler of Wind, Rain, and Thunder
The scholar Unto Salo argues that Ilmarinen was a hammer-using sky god and the god of thunder who
evolved into a ruler of winds, the forger of the sky-dome and a smith-hero. This means that Ukko, the
Finnish god of thunder, storm, rain, and snow, is no separate god but in fact the same sky god as Ilmarinen23.
The name ‘Ukko’ means ‘Old Man’. In ancient times it was an honored title given by the community to
older men who had gained wisdom, life experience, and a position of respect in the community. At the
same time Ukko was a euphemism which was used in order to avoid saying the real name of the thunder
19 - Talve, Ilmar. Suomen kansankulttuuri.
20 - Ibid.
21 - Ahtinen, Johanna. “Luonnohaltijoiden sukupuoli itäsuomalaisessa ja karjalaisessa uskomusperinteessä”. University of Helsinki, 2008.
22 - Hyry and Pentikäinen & Pentikäinen, Lumen ja valon kansa.
23 - Salo, Unto. “Ukko, the Finnish God of Thunder – Separating Pagan Roots From Christian Accretions”.
Óðrœrir 82
god. The Sami people famously refused to recite the name of the god during thunder storms until as
recently as the 19th century.
The Finnish bishop Mikael Agricola mentions the mysterious “Rauni” in his 1551 list of ancient Finnish
gods. Agricola’s Rauni seems to be connected to Ukko. Since Rauni is not mentioned anywhere else in the
folklore, the character has understandably caused lively debate among scholars over the years. The most
common interpretation has been that Rauni is an ancient Finnish goddess and Ukko’s wife. This is highly
problematic, not only because there are no other mentions of this word outside of Agricola’s account, but
because Rauni is not even a Finnish word; the original meaning of the name has been traced to Germanic
roots. One theory that has gained ground is that Rauni comes from the Germanic word ‘raudna’ meaning
the rowan tree. This would make ‘rauni’ an epithet of Ukko instead of an independent god. So “Rauni
Ukko” mentioned by Agricola probably means ‘Rowan Tree Ukko’24.
As to whether this theory is credible, the answer is probably yes. Rowan was a sacred tree for the
ancient Finns. Each house had its own rowan tree on the yard; small loops and sticks made out of rowan
twigs were used to protect houses, cattle, hunter’s traps, and other items25. Many mythologies associate
rowan with thunderstorms, the sky god, and divine powers. In Lithuania for example, it was believed that
the god of thunder does not strike a rowan tree when he is destroying evil spirits lurking on earth. There is
no direct evidence linking thunder and rowan trees in Finnish tradition, but in Finland it was also believed
that the sky god uses lightning strikes to destroy evil spirits hiding on earth.
Lightning and rain during thunderstorms was perceived as a sacred marriage, or ‘hieros gamos’, and
which resulted in a new harvest. The union of gods fertilized the earth. In Finnish folklore there are several
extant sayings and beliefs which associate thunder with sexuality. For instance, in Western Finland it was
said that forest fires were caused by a nude maiden rising up from a spring and seducing the lightning to
strike. Unto Salo argues that this maiden was the spirit of water26. Moreover, that the sacred marriage that
brought fertility to the fields was the union of these two divine beings.
Heavenly Bodies: the Sun and the Moon
The brightly shining sun and the mysterious moon play their parts in mythologies the whole world over.
In Finnish mythology, the sun seems to be associated with the cycle of the year and shamanistic imagery,
while the moon is associated with luck, fate and natural cycles. It is perhaps a little surprising then, how
much of a role the moon plays in folk religion in comparison to that of the sun.
The Sun God Päivätär
Uno Harva and other Finnish scholars have assumed that the ancient Finns, like numerous other nations,
practiced sun worship27. When we take into account the importance of the sun as a bearer of light and
life and the further symbolism connected to these things, it would not be unreasonable to say that this is
probably true. Unfortunately, however, information on ancient Finnish sun-worship is very scarce. Päivätär
or Päivä, the sun god, is more of a mythological figure than a god to be approached in prayer. Only a few
prayers to the sun have been collected, all originating in Eastern Karelia, and therefore possibly the result
of Slavic influence28.
24 - Salo, Unto. “Ukko, the Finnish God of Thunder – Separating Pagan Roots From Christian Accretions”.
25 - Harva, Uno. Suomalaisten muinaisusko. Porvoo: WSOY, 1948.
26 - Salo, Unto. “Ukko, the Finnish God of Thunder – Separating Pagan Roots From Christian Accretions”.
27 - Harva, Uno. Suomalaisten muinaisusko.
28 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 83
In folk songs it is recounted that at the beginning of the world the celestial lights (Taivaanvalot) could
not shine freely and that the world suffered periods of darkness and cold. The darkness was caused by a
great oak that had grown so huge that it covered the sky with its branches. A mythic hero rose from the sea
and cut down the oak, bringing light back to the world, causing flowers to bloom and the leaves of trees
to turn green. Some scholars have interpreted the myth of the great oak as being a reflection of the cycle
of the year; the tree is born on midsummer and grows until midwinter, when everything is shrouded in
darkness. The tree is then cut and spring can return29.
Moon and Fate
Ancient Finns believed that the outcome of one’s actions was directly related to the phase of the
moon30. By choosing the right time for some particular work one could have the best possible results.
This knowledge of the effects of the moon on man’s work was highly uniform and still commonplace
in Finland but a few generations ago31. The moon, like any other natural phenomenon was thought to be
a living, soulful, being. The moon had a birth and a death, a beginning and an end. Phases of the moon
were interpreted from the sky and from using rune staves. The complete cycle of the moon was called the
‘Heavenly Moon’. One heavenly moon was the time between two new moons: approximately 29 days.
The cycle of the heavenly moon was divided into four periods, each about a week long. The time of
the new moon was regarded as the birth-time for the moon. The first days following the birth were called
the ‘early moon’. They were part of the upper moon (yläkuu) phase which extended over the first two
periods. Each upper moon ended with the full moon, which started a lower moon (alakuu) phase, which
extended over the remaining two periods. The last days before the birth of the new moon were called the
‘end moon’ or the ‘old moon’. The impact of the upper and lower moons can be summarized as follows,
the upper moon grows, the lower moon destroys. The days of the upper moon were fresh, full, and of
vitalizing strength. Every aspect of life in which growth was desirable was carried out during the upper
moon, e.g., planting crops, getting married, counting money. Conversely, during the lower moon was the
time for dealing with that which people wanted to destroy, stop growing or dry out32.
Kuutar, the god of the moon, seems to be connected with human fate. In Balto-Finnic legends a
heavenly maiden, the moon’s daughter, sits on the upper branches of the world tree and weaves people’s
fates together. Each fate is represented by a silver thread of life. The fates are weaved together in the skies
to create the complete picture of the life of the world. When the maiden accidentally snaps a thread, she
begins to cry, and her tears fall down as three rivers which form three hills with three birches growing on
top of each of them. At the top of each birch a cuckoo sings as a sign of fate to the person whose life thread
has been snapped33.
Water Spirits
Water, like all the other natural elements, was thought to have its own spiritual force called ‘väki’.
Väki was controlled, or symbolized, by the guardian water spirit which was believed to have been the first
29 - Lintrop, Aado. “The Great Oak, the Weaving Maidens and the Red Boat, not to Mention a Lost Brush”. In Electronic Journal of
Folklore 11. Folk Belief and Media Group of Estonian Literary Museum.
30 - Ibid.
31 - Pöyhönen, Anne. Yläkuu ja alakuu. Ajoituksen taito suomalaisessa kansanperinteessä. Yläkuu kustannus, 2008.
32 - Pöyhönen, Anne. Yläkuu ja alakuu.
33 - Lintrop, Aado. “The Great Oak, the Weaving Maidens and the Red Boat, not to Mention a Lost Brush”.
Óðrœrir 84
person to drown in that place34. Fishermen naturally had a reciprocal relationship with this spirit35. The
fisherman gave offerings to the water spirit and in return was given good fishing luck. After each catch,
the guardian water spirit was thanked through the offering of either money, silver, or more commonly, the
first fish from the catch36.
In the spring, when the lakes and rivers were freed from the ice, the first catch was a major event, and
the guardian water spirit was given offerings. Sometimes the spirit appeared in the fishermen’s evening
fire and future fishing luck was divined by the outward appearance of that spirit. One might anger the spirit
by breaking certain taboos associated with fishing. One of these taboos is very characteristic of Finnish
tradition, the need to keep different väki apart. For instance, one could not go fishing on a hunting trip
because this brought the forest väki and the water väki into close contact, which “ruined” the lake37.
Fire Spirits
Kaarle Krohn argued that the Finnish tradition shows no certain signs of fire-worship38. As far as I
know, Finnish people did not sacrifice to the fire directly. If, however, we take fire-worship to mean that
the fire is considered to be a sacred, living, being, and has a central role in religious rituals, the Finns
were certainly fire-worshipers. There are three reasons for this. Firstly, fire has a divine origin in Finnish
Birth of Fire Ritual: Hela is celebrated in Springtime. Here a man starts a holy fire while people dance in a circle
around him and sing the ritual song “The Birth of Fire.
mythology. Secondly, the burning and kindling of sacred fires has been a major component in many yearly
34 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
35 - SKS. Suomen kansan muinaisia taikoja II. Kalastus-taikoja. Porvoo-Juva: WS Bookwell Oy, 1892 / 2008.
36 - Ibid.
37 - Ibid.
38 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
Óðrœrir 85
feasts39. Lastly, the fire was also believed to have the power of purification and to ward off evil spirits40.
The story of how fire came into the world states that fire first came to existence in the heavens when
Ilmarinen struck the first lightning over the primeval sea. As previously mentioned, fire played a major
role in the various feasts during the spring and early summer. Great bonfires were set in remote places and
people gathered around them to sing, dance, and to welcome the spring. The sacred bonfires, which were
kindled according to strict ritualistic rules, and by using ancient methods no longer used in everyday life,
were thought to secure good harvest and cattle luck.
The main reason for setting the fires was to protect people and animals against evil spiritual forces.
Sacred fire was regarded as a primeval power, of which all the hostile spirits were afraid. Especially
powerful was a fire mixed with tar (called “the sweat of Väinämöinen”) and juniper41. Matti Varonen
claims that during the pre-Christian times, sacred fires had a dual role: to attract friendly spirits, such as
nature spirits and the spirits of the ancestors, and to ward off evil spirits. When the old beliefs started to
fade away, the idea of attracting good spirits was forgotten, and only the idea of driving away evil forces
remained42.
Land Spirits
The land was divided into two domains: that of human land (e.g., fields, arable land and the yard),
and that of natural land (e.g., forests, swamps, lakes, rivers). All these areas had their own väki and their
guardian spirits. Fields and yards were guarded by male and female spirits called different names such as
the ‘King Of The Land’, ‘Black Man’ and ‘Black Woman’, etc. These land spirits secured the luck in the
fields and in the yard. Every time beer was brewed or something was baked, the spirits had their offerings
before anyone else could eat the food or drink the beer. The land spirits also blessed the cattle with good
luck. These spirits could be angered if the offerings were neglected or the people of the house did not live
up to the moral standards valued by the spirits43.
When a person moved to a new house the first thing he had to do when stepping inside the house was
to bow to each corner, greet the land spirits, and offer them bread and salt. Whenever a new person, such
as a bride, or a temporary farmhand moved into a house, the person had to give sacrifices to the land
spirits and greet them with certain words44. The land spirits were also often greeted outside the yard when
the earth was needed for use. One example of these were the offerings made to the land spirits before a
deceased person was buried, in order to make sure the they approved the final resting place. In a similar
vein, hunters used to ask permission from the land spirits before they laid down for the night on their
hunting trips45.
Forest Spirits
The ancient Finn lived his life surrounded by forests. The forest was a source of food and tools, a place
to hide when the enemy attacked, and a sacred place for praying and sacrificing. Even today many Finns
feel that their souls ‘rest’ when they have a chance to visit their beloved forests. The forest was of course
thought to be full of väki, and ruled by the spirits of the forest.
39 -Varonen, Matti. Vainajainpalvelus muinaisilla suomalaisilla. Porvoo-Juva: WS Bookwell Oy, 1898 / 2009.
40 -Talve, Ilmar. Suomen kansankulttuuri.
41 - Vilkuna, Kustaa. Vuotuinen ajantieto. Keuruu: Otavan kirjapaino Oy, 1950 / 2010.
42 - Varonen, Matti. Vainajainpalvelus muinaisilla suomalaisilla.
43 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
44 - Ibid.
45 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 86
The main symbol for the forest’s väki was the anthill, or as it was known, the ‘Castle of the Forest’;
the nest served as a symbolic pathway between the humans and the spirits. It was believed that the spirit
of the forest would visit the man who sacrificed silver, liquor, or blood from his finger into the nest and
hunters could tell from the outward appearance of the spirit how he felt about the man’s plans. If the
spirit appeared in plain clothes and looked rude, the bounty was not going to be good. If the spirit showed
up in beautiful clothes and looked benign, it was a good sign46. In order to thank the forest spirit for the
bounty given, part of it was sacrificed into the anthill. Giving sacrifices to the forest spirits was not only
an expression of goodwill between the hunter and the forest, but also an attempt to avoid the wrath of the
spirits47. Angered spirits could cause the hunter to get lost in the wilderness; the insulted spirits could also
steal things from the hunter48.
The forest spirit was personified as Tapio, who was imagined as the wealthy patriarch of his forest
mansion. The forest animals were called Tapio’s cattle, the bear was Tapio’s oxen, the fox was Tapio’s
dog, the rabbit was the lamb of Tapio, etc. Certain peculiar spruce trees (Picea abies f. tabulaeformis) were
thought to be sacred for Tapio and offerings were left there. Tapio also had wife called Mielikki49. It should
be mentioned that often the hunters imagined the forest as a woman with two sides – either as the loving
and benign Mielikki, or the cold and cruel Ajattara. Some hunting prayers had clearly sexual overtones as
the hunters tried to seduce the forest with the right words to provide bounty for them50.
Spirits of the House and Farm
Guardian spirits in Finnish tradition were not limited to natural places, they were also thought to be
found in the buildings created by humans. While the best known of these guardian spirits is that of the
home, other buildings such as the barn, mill, sauna and the cattle shed were also considered to have their
own spirits. It was widely believed that the person who bought the land from the spirits in order to build
there, was the first person to die there, or was the first to make fire there, became the guardian spirit of the
place51. It can be argued that the spirits residing in the human environment were originally nature spirits
whose power was somehow relocated to buildings. The mill spirits, for instance, were originally thought
to be water spirits.
In Western Finland the guardian spirit of the house helped the family and ensured that moral values
were adhered to. While the guardian spirit could not prevent accidents from happening, it could warn
people about them in advance52. Grass snakes were thought to symbolize the guardian spirit and they were
fed and left to roam freely around the yard and buildings. This snake tradition is almost definitely of preChristian origin53. The ‘Haltija Snake’, as the snakes were called, was connected to the luck and fate of the
house. If the snake was treated well, the house had success and luck. If it was treated badly or even killed,
the house faced terrible times54.
For the ancient Finns, sauna was a sacred place to cleanse the body and spirit. As with all the other
places of importance, the sauna was also guarded by a guardian spirit (‘saunanhaltija’) whose job it was
46 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
47 - Lehikoinen, Heikki. Tuo hiisi hirviäsi. Metsästyksen kulttuurihistoria Suomessa. Teos, 2007.
48 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
49 - Ibid.
50 - Lehikoinen, Heikki. Tuo hiisi hirviäsi. Metsästyksen kulttuurihistoria Suomessa.
51 - Talve, Ilmar. Suomen kansankulttuuri.
52 - Ibid.
53 - Muhonen, Timo. “Haltijakäärmeperinne Suomessa”. Lecture in the “Myyttinen käärme” conference in Hämeenlinna, April 2, 2001.
54 - Muhonen, Timo. “Haltijakäärmeperinne Suomessa”.
Óðrœrir 87
to ensure all the norms and customs regarding sauna were followed properly55. Sauna was at least as much
of a sacred place as the church, and it was thought that when one cleanses one’s body, mind and behavior
must also be purified. Sauna was also the place where women gave birth and healers did their work.
People were expected to act respectfully and calmly in the sauna. When people were finished, water was
poured on the stones for the spirit to enjoy the warmth of the sauna in peace56.
Field Spirits
Each field and each crop was believed to have its own spirit. The arable land was sacred to the ancient
Finns as the source of nutrition and life, and if the field spirits were remembered and treated with respect,
good harvest luck ensued. There were several customs regarding sowing and harvesting, which were
aimed at showing proper respect to the spirits57. The haltija of the field was called Pellonpekko or just
Pekko (Pekka, Pikka), was probably originally the Finnish spirit of barley, and thus the spirit of beer.
Barley is one of the oldest cultivated grains in Finland, and probably at some point in history, the name of
the spirit of this particular crop came to refer to all of the field spirits58.
Where there is barley, there is always beer. In Finland beer was enjoyed as a sacred drink at feasts
such as the ‘Ukon vakat’. Sacred beer consecrated with spells and mythical songs was brewed for the
yearly festivities. In certain celebrations, getting drunk was almost mandatory, but the folk songs strongly
condemn any kind of misuse of alcohol that would lead to arguing, fighting, and violence. The role of beer
at a feast was to bring joy, laughter, and singing. Even Väinämöinen is said to have sung after drinking
beer, which makes Pekko, the spirit of beer, a Finnish god of singing59.
Riittipaikka Mansikki: A sacred “rite-site” in Mansikki where gifts are given, usually in springtime.
55 - Pentikäinen, Juha. “Kylpynormit ja saunatapain yliluonnolliset vartijat.” In Valoa kansalle, edited by Pekka Laaksonen, Ulla Piela and
Maija-Liisa Heikinmäki, 58-63. Forssa: Forssan kirjapaino Oy, 1989.
56 - Ibid.
57 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
58 - Harva, Uno. Suomalaisten muinaisusko.
59 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 88
IV. Emuu and Animal Beliefs
Animals and plants also had their guardian spirits. The guardian spirit of each animal or plant, was
thought to be the elder, or the primal mother of the species; all the existing animals or plants were
considered to be her sons and daughters. This mythic mother was called ‘emuu’, from the word ‘emä’ or
‘mother’. The name of the species’ ‘emuu’ was usually somehow related to the qualities, the behavior, or
the environment of the animal in question60. For instance, the bear’s ‘emuu’ was called Hongotar, which
is a combination of the ‘-tar’ suffix denoting ‘female’ and consequently ‘motherhood’, and ‘honka’ which
means ‘pine tree’. After every bear feast the bear’s skull was lifted and placed on the top of a pine tree so
that the soul of the bear could return to heaven.
People turned to the ‘emuu’ when they had something to do with its living descendants. Hunters prayed
that the emuu would allow them to hunt some of her “boys” and asked for her forgiveness after the kill was
done. It was believed that since the ‘emuu’ protected and guided her own sons, if insulted she would hide
them away from the hunter’s guns and arrows. It was especially a grave insult to kill a sleeping animal,
since the animal’s soul was thought to be out of body, and the soul could lose its direction if the body was
killed. This kind of traumatized animal soul could haunt the hunter and drive him to insanity. Hence the
hunters always whistled before killing an animal that was sleeping61.
Bear, the Heavenly King of the Forest
Bear worship has been a crucial part of the religious practices of the northern peoples since ancient
times, and the Finns were no exception to this. The bear, the biggest predator and undisputed king of the
Finnish forests, was a sacred animal for them. Like many other Finno-Ugric peoples, the Finns imagined
the Big Dipper as a golden basket in which the very first bear was lowered to the earth, thus signifying that
the bear had his origin in the heavens62.
In modern Finnish the bear is called ‘karhu’, but his original name was ‘Ohto’. Karhu is a euphemism
indicating the roughness of the bear’s hide (‘karhea’ means rough in Finnish). Yet ‘karhu’ is by no means
the only euphemism for the bear, in fact, hundreds of different names have been collected, including the
venerable ‘He’63. This demonstrates that the real name of the bear was a taboo, and people refrained from
using it not only out of respect for the divinity of the animal, but also because they did not want to lure the
bear near their cattle. Similar taboos have been associated with other divine beings; one example of this is
the use of the honorable title ‘Ukko’ rather than the sky-god’s real name, Ilmarinen.
Ancient Finns believed that the bear had a strong connection with the human race, and that this was
obvious even from the outward appearance of the animal. The bear was thought to be able to understand
speech and even to read minds. Bears were also thought never to harm women, possibly because of the
mythic marriage between a bear and a woman who were the founding ancestors of the bear clan. This story
is known amongst many Finno-Ugric tribes. In Karelia, people did not eat bear meat as late as the early
20th century as it was regarded as a form of cannibalism. It was also believed that some humans could take
the form of a bear64.
In terms of the cycle of the year, the bear was associated with both the midwinter and midsummer.
Midsummer was traditionally celebrated on the 13th of July and was called ‘The Day of the Bear’. This
60 - Lehikoinen, Heikki. Tuo hiisi hirviäsi. Metsästyksen kulttuurihistoria Suomessa.
61 - Lehikoinen, Heikki. Tuo hiisi hirviäsi. Metsästyksen kulttuurihistoria Suomessa.
62 - Leinonen, Antti and Willamo, Heikki. Ison karhun alla. Helsinki: Bildit Oy, 2001 / 2008.
63 - Leinonen, Antti and Willamo, Heikki. Ison karhun alla.
64 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
Óðrœrir 89
was also known in Estonia, where July was called ‘the Month of the Bear’ and the 13th of that month, the
mythic birthday of that animal. Midwinter was in mid-January, and according to Kustaa Vilkuna, this was
the time when the bear was killed, and a feast was held65.
The Finns were famous for their arctolatry; when hunters killed a bear, a great celebration was held
during which the bear was treated as a guest of honor. The ancient marriage between the woman and the
bear was also symbolically repeated66. In eating the bear’s flesh, the people took on a part of his soul and
qualities, a practice not completely unlike the Holy Communion practiced by Christians. When the feast
ended, the bear’s soul was to be returned to the heavens, and so the bear’s skull was raised to the top of a
great pine tree called ‘The Bear Skull Pine’ (Karhunkallohonka) to the accompaniment of farewell songs.
The scholar Arvo Oja speculated that, in ancient times, the bear hide was placed in the sacred grove after
the feast67. The bear cult was very strong in Finland and continued until modern times. There is evidence
that in rural areas of Central Finland bear skulls were being put on top of old skull pines until as late as in
the 1930s68.
Uhrikallio Suovu: Gifts are left during Karhujuhla (The Feast of the Bear) in midsummer in Suovo,
near Kuopio.
V. Sacred Places
For the ancient Finns, nature was full of sacred places: stones, hills, trees, lakes and springs. Offerings
to ancestral spirits were made at sacrificial sites near the house, such as cup stones, sacred trees located in
the yard (pitämyspuu, karsikko) or at the local graveyard. Offerings to nature spirits were made in natural
places, for example, people sacrificed to the anthill or to certain trees for the forest spirits, or to the watery
places for the water spirits. When offering to the guardian spirits of buildings, offerings were placed inside
65 - Vilkuna, Kustaa. Vuotuinen ajantieto.
66 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
67 - Oja, Arvo. “Karhuntaljat entisajan kirkoissa.”
68 - Pentikäinen, Juha. “Viitasaaren teksti”. In Kansanomainen ajattelu, edited by Laura Stark and Eija Stark. Helsinki: SKS, 2007.
Óðrœrir 90
these buildings or at nearby trees or stones69.
Ancient sacred places can be identified relatively easily from old place names. Over one hundred
Finnish place names, mostly lakes, include the word ‘pyhä’ (sacred). In other words, these places were
at one point considered to be taboo places with very strong väki70. Another possible sign of the ancient
sanctity of a place is the word ‘hiisi’, meaning ‘sacred place’ or ‘sacred grove’.
Groves, Sacrificial Stones and Springs
Kuppikivi Rapola: A cup stone from Rapola dating back to the Bronze Age.
In ancient Finland and Estonia, sacred sites were called ‘hiisi’. In folk religion though, Hiisi is also an
evil spirit, a demon of sorts, and the prevailing theory has it that hiisi originally meant ‘sacred place’ but
later became the name of a demon due to Christian influence. In Finland, hiisi as a place is associated with
ancient graveyards and sacred groves71. Hiisi was a place for prayer, sacrifice, and healing. The sacred
place was separated from the profane human world. No tree was cut there nor was cattle grazed or the
earth dug. In general, the human impact on the place was kept to a bare minimum. Disturbing a sacred
site destroyed the luck of the violator, and the luck of his descendants. People would only gather at these
sacred sites for religious reasons during certain holidays. Food, coins, and jewel offerings were left there;
as a further sign of respect, ribbons were tied to the trees72.
The sacred places of the Finno-Ugric peoples are usually located on top of hills. High and naturally
beautiful locations were valued, as were places with close proximity to natural water73. In Finland there
69 - Talve, Ilmar. Suomen kansankulttuuri.
70 - Talve, Ilmar. Suomen kansankulttuuri.
71 - Hyvärinen, Anne. “Hiisi-Places on the Landscape of Eastern Finland in the Light of Archive Materials.” Paper presented at the
international seminar “Holy Groves Around The Baltic Sea”, Tartu, Estonia, May 4-6, 2007.
72 - Ibid.
73 - Krohn, Julius. Suomen suvun pakanallinen jumalanpalvelus. Porvoo-Juva: WS Bookwell Oy 1894 / 2008.
Óðrœrir 91
are no great mountains, but there is some evidence that the highest hill near the village (often known as
‘Ukonvuori’ or ‘Ukko’s mountain’) was the location for sacrificial feasts in honour of Ukko; this involved
leaving food offerings overnight74.
Sacrificial stones have been either unshaped, natural stones, or so-called ‘cup stones’, which have one
or more small, man-made ‘cups’ on the surface (the actual technique used to make these cups is debated
among scholars). Cup stones are known from all over Finland, except in Northern Ostrobothnia, and are
most commonly located in areas that had major Iron Age settlements, as well as some parts of Savonia
and Central Finland75.
The Finns also regarded springs as sacred, and money, or silver, among other things, were sacrificed
into the springs. Midsummer night was considered to be an especially good time to make offerings to the
guardian spirit of a spring. Water was ‘bought’ from springs and used in healing and folk magic76.
Karsikko: the Tree of the Dead
The creation of the ‘karsikko’, or literally ‘one who has been pruned’, was a tradition that was
predominantly found in Savonia. This pruned tree could be dedicated to a deceased person, but was often
shared by the ancestors of a certain house or family. Details about the dead were carved on the tree, most
often the initials and the dates of birth and death of the deceased. The word ‘karsikko’ could mean either a
group of karsikko trees, one single tree, or even piece of wood collected from a Karsikko tree which had
fallen down. Karsikko trees were often located along the road between the house and the graveyard, this
was believed to prevent the return of the souls of the dead from the graveyard77.
The scholar Hornborg suggested that in pre-Christian times each family had their own karsikko78.
When a new house was built, one of the first things that was done was to choose a place for the karsikko.
Usually this meant that a section of the forest near the house was left standing, and this plot became the
karsikko as the years went by and trees prepared for each person to die in the household 79. This kind of
karsikko forest was a sacred grove of sorts where the offerings were made to the ancestors. The ancestral
spirits were given the first share of the crops, the milk, the game, and the fish. It was especially important
to remember the ancestors during family celebrations; As with other spirits, it was thought crucial that
the offerings were made before anyone else had tasted the foods, or drank the beverages. Money was also
given as an offering to the karsikko. Whenever people made a successful trade, they gave a little offering
of the money before it was spent on anything else80.
Hornborg also mentions the so called memorial karsikko. This kind of karsikko was made in the same
way as the usual karsikko, but instead of the life of a person, it marked the memory of certain significant
events or disasters. The tree was trimmed at the scene of the event, and the year of the event was carved
on it; this memorial could also be a rock81. It’s worth mentioning that several karsikko trees were created
at the places where people were murdered during the bloody Finnish civil war in 191882.
74 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
75 - Talve, Ilmar. Suomen kansankulttuuri.
76 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
77 - Ibid.
78 - Hornborg, “Karsikoista”. In Virittäjä-lehti 1886.
79 - Ibid.
80 - Ibid.
81 - Hornborg, “Karsikoista”.
82 - Vilkuna, Janne. Suomalaiset vainajien karsikot ja ristipuut. Suomen muinaismuistoyhdistys, 1992.
Óðrœrir 92
Sacred Trees of the Forest and the Yard
Every self-respecting hunter and fisherman had his own sacrifice tree, at the foot of which he would
bury his offerings to the spirits. This tree was also regarded as sacred, and cutting it down brought bad
luck. There were also beliefs about the other trees in the forest; the oldest tree in the forest was venerated
and called the elder of the forest83. Juniper was known to have an especially strong and beautiful guardian
spirit, and it was this that gave juniper smoke the power to fend off evil spirits. The rowan tree was also
sacred, as previously mentioned, and it was used extensively in folk magic84. Alder was associated with
the forest spirits and also used in folk magic85.
In every yard a special tree was grown called ‘pitämyspuu’ , or ‘the tree that is cared for’. This tree
was associated with the land spirits, and has counterparts in Scandinavian countries. When a house was
first built, a small tree sprout was also planted in the yard to be tended to by the new owners, since it was
believed that the tree spirit wouldn’t serve anyone younger than itself86. The pitämyspuu was promised that
it would be left to grow in peace and that not a single twig would be harmed. In addition, the inhabitants of
the house pledged that they would offer to the tree the same foods they were having at each feast; libations
were also poured for the tree. The tree spirit was said to protect the house, cattle, and crops. However, if
the master of house was not pleased with the protection the tree was offering, he could cut it down87.
VI. Luck and Rites
Every human being needs a certain amount of luck in order to reach his goals, and to get through the
critical moments in life. For the ancient Finns, it was crucial to secure the luck of the community and
the family with regards to their livelihoods and critical moments of life. Luck or ‘onni’ (sometimes also
known as ‘lykky’, or ‘säästi’ in Karelia) was protected and maintained through the right actions and rites88.
Personal and communal luck was protected at all costs89. During pregnancy, childbirth, and the naming
of the child, steps were taken to protect the luck of the mother and the newborn child. During wedding
ceremonies the bridal couple’s luck was protected. When a person became ill, his goal was to renew his
luck. Additionally, different livelihoods had their own luck associated with them, and a person might
possess luck in fishing, hunting, growing crops, etc. Luck was mainly protected and acquired by means of
spells, which were recited aloud, unlike folk poems which were always sung90.
The relationship between luck and fate is twofold. Firstly, the word ‘onni’ was sometimes used to refer
to a person’s fate and their guardian spirit. Luck was therefore something that a person was born with and
that he carried with him throughout life, it was his share of life. On the other hand it was believed that
people had the ability to influence their luck at certain sacred moments of the natural cycle, and the human
lifespan. People might, for instance, affect the outcome of their actions by following omens, moon phases,
and taboos such as keeping the different väki apart91.
For every situation it was of the utmost importance to secure a divine mandate from the spirits or
83 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
84 - Ibid.
85 - Virrankoski, Pentti. “Rantsilan noita ja hänen ihmisnukkensa.” In Valoa kansalle, edited by Pekka Laaksonen, Ulla Piela and MaijaLiisa Heikinmäki, 202-207. Forssa: Forssan kirjapaino Oy, 1989.
86 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
87 - Ibid.
88 - Talve, Ilmar. Suomen kansankulttuuri.
89 - Hyry and Pentikäinen & Pentikäinen, Lumen ja valon kansa.
90 - Ibid.
91 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 93
ancestors for your actions or at least to make sure the spirits were not hostile to your plans. Interaction
with the spirits followed the principle of do ut des, or ‘I give so you may give’. The favor of the spirits
was established through sacrifice and prayer, after which the spirits would agree to protect the person’s
actions if the spirits so wished. Different spells and rituals were also used to affect the outcome of events
(e.g., using magic and spells to enhance a girl’s erotic allure in order to attract suitors) or to protect oneself
from harmful forces92.
Luck with the crops was secured by carefully evaluating omens before starting work and honoring
the spirits of the fields in a proper manner93. In some places, the fertility of the field was strengthened by
singing the old mythic songs about the sampo, which tell how the pieces of the sampo helped to create
the world’s first harvest. This demonstrates the connection between ritual and myth. Ritual is the place
where myth lives. In the rituals, people repeated through words, actions, and symbols, the myths which
recounted the reasons why the world is the way it is. Through ritual, the world regained its original potent
sacred power94.
VII. Tietäjä: Healer, Seer and Sage
The Finnish tietäjä was an important and respected person in his community; a healer and a sage, he
had a special connection to the spirit world. The tietäjä was always an abnormal person who was both
respected and feared, and he was the spiritual leader of his community. When the normal, everyday life of
his community was disturbed, he was approached to give his counsel. The wisdom and knowledge of the
tietäjä were highly valued, and they often had the gift of clairvoyance. People asked for the tietäjä’s help
with many different issues, from marrying to negotiating land sales95.
A tietäjä usually learned his or her skills from an older tietäjä. Often the inherent capability to be a tietäjä
was inherited in the family and the older sage would teach his skills to a younger relative he had chosen to
continue the craft. According to one belief, a child born with a tooth in his mouth was particularly adept
to learn these skills since he carried with him the soul of a tietäjä. People could, however, come to meet
the tietäjä and learn his skills even though they were not kin; these skills could also be sold. The sages of
the Sami people, the ‘noaidi’, were considered highly powerful and people traveled long distances to meet
them96.
The scholar Matti Varonen argues that the power of tietäjä was believed to come from the ancestors97.
As the ancestor spirit made its home inside the person, he was thought to possess higher wisdom. The
ancestors had dramatic ways to instill their knowledge in the shaman-to-be. They might, for instance,
cause the person to fall ill, and during this sickness, transfer the ancestral soul into the person. This
gruesome sickness brought the person closer to the spirit world, and prepared him for life as a shaman98.
The belief that spiritual power is received from the dead is very apparent in the Finnish tradition. A tietäjä,
for example, might drink from a human skull in order to gain excellent memory, or use other rituals related
to the dead to gain the increased mental powers which would help him in his work. Most importantly, the
tietäjä always drew his power from the underworld before doing healing99.
92 - Ibid.
93 - Ibid.
94 - Eliade, Mircea. Pyhä ja profaani. Loka-Kirjat, 2003.
95 - Tuovinen, Jane. Tietäjistä kuppareihin: Kansanparannuksesta ja parantajista Suomessa. Porvoo, Helsinki, Juva: WSOY, 1984.
96 - Ibid.
97 - Varonen, Matti. Vainajainpalvelus muinaisilla suomalaisilla.
98 - Varonen, Matti. Vainajainpalvelus muinaisilla suomalaisilla.
99 - Ibid.
Óðrœrir 94
A Tietäjä’s instrument was the kantele, which the first healer and tietäjä Väinämöinen played at the
beginning of time. The kantele was believed to be of mythical origin, and to possess magical qualities,
but it was also part of everyday life for ordinary people100. Several scholars have discussed the possible
link between the kantele and the shaman drum. For instance, one of those scholars, Anna-Leena Siikala,
suggested that the kantele is an evolved Baltio-Finnic version of the shaman’s drum101.
VIII. Human Souls
Humans beings were believed to have several souls. We can identify three different soul-beings
connected with each person: the ‘henki’ or ‘löyly’ (‘Life-Soul’, ‘Body-Soul’), the ‘itse’ (the ‘Self’), and
the ‘luonto’ (‘guardian spirit’). The henki, or ‘life-soul’, represented the life force of the human body, and
was said to manifest itself as the signs of life: breathing, warmth, heartbeat, blood circulation, and other
vital signs102. When a person drew his last breath, the henki was believed to leave the soul in the form of
a small animal such as a butterfly, a little bird, or a fly103. For the Finns, the life-soul enters human beings
while in the uterus, at the point when the first signs of life begin to become apparent. Names for the ‘lifesoul’ in Finno-Ugric languages translate to ‘breath’, ‘vapor’, or simply ‘life’. The life-soul is the thing
separating living beings from the dead, those who breathe from those who do not104.
The human psyche is formed by the ‘itse’ soul, which literally means ‘self’, even in modern Finnish.
Itse is the personality which can exist outside the body as a knowing, wanting, and feeling being105. This
soul makes the newborn a person by giving him consciousness and personality. The itse belongs to the
family, and in death returns to the underworld to live among its kin; the same soul can be reborn into the
family line, and also appear as a ghost106.
If a person died a violent death or as a result of some other wrongdoing, or if the possessor of the soul
was a wrongdoer himself, the soul would become confused, and would not be able to enter the realm of its
ancestors to exist in peace. Instead, the soul was caught between worlds, where it remained a soul without
a place (‘Sijaton Sielu’). In former times, people who had committed suicide were not buried on hallowed
church ground, and these souls were also thought to wander without a place107. The soul without a place
continued look for moral compensation for the pain suffered, or it might try to be born again into the
world. Because of this pregnant women would avoid places where traumatic events such as murders had
taken place108. Sometimes the soul might even turn to the living to help them to accomplish some mission
that the soul had failed to finish during his own life109.
The third soul-being associated with humans was the guardian spirit, which was called the person’s
‘luonto’, literally meaning his ‘nature’ and ‘temper’. A luonto was the spiritual guide and protector of the
person, it could appear as his doppelgänger; sometimes the guardian spirit even appeared in a place before
the actual person arrived110. The scholar Haavio claims that the luonto could be the mythic mother of the
person’s clan, which would make the luonto an ‘emuu’ of the human being111. It was believed that the child
100 - Ibid.
101 - Siikala, Anna-Leena. Suomalainen samanismi.
102 - Hyry and Pentikäinen & Pentikäinen, Lumen ja valon kansa.
103 - Sarmela, Matti. Suomen perinneatlas. SKS, 2007.
104 - Ibid.
105 - Hyry and Pentikäinen & Pentikäinen, Lumen ja valon kansa.
106 - Sarmela, Matti. Suomen perinneatlas.
107 - Hyry and Pentikäinen & Pentikäinen, Lumen ja valon kansa
108 - Sarmela, Matti. Suomen perinneatlas.
109 - Varonen, Matti. Vainajainpalvelus muinaisilla suomalaisilla.
110 - Sarmela, Matti. Suomen perinneatlas.
111 - Haavio, Martti. Suomalainen mytologia. Porvoo Helsinki: WSOY, 1967.
Óðrœrir 95
received his guardian spirit at the time of his naming, or when he got his first tooth, and it was only then
that the child was fully accepted into the family.
A luonto could appear in the form of a person or animal but sometimes it was understood as the ‘nonpersonal luck’ of the person112. A person with a strong character was thought to have a strong guardian
spirit which provided him luck and the ability to carry out his plans successfully. The extraordinary mental
powers and the charisma of remarkable people, such as the tietäjä, was explained by him having a powerful
guardian spirit113. When the tietäjä did his healing work, he would use spells in order to call his luonto
from the underworld, and would allow it to possess him completely. This resulted in an ecstatic state which
helped the healing and gave the tietäjä exceptional powers114. It was also possible for a person to lose their
guardian spirit, by means of experiencing a traumatic event. A person without a spiritual guardian was
unlucky, depressed, and sick. If a person had a guardian spirit that was weak, they were believed to be able
strengthen it through carrying out the appropriate rituals115.
VIII. Ancestors
For the ancient Finns, there was no real barrier that separated the living from the dead. When people
died, they went to the land of dead which was thought to be located at the graveyard. Even after death,
the dead were in contact with the living, receiving their offerings, and hearing their prayers. The family
was thought as a single whole, consisting of both living and deceased members116. The ancestors were the
upholders of the family’s moral values, traditional ways, and societal structures. The individual person
and the family asked guidance from the ancestors in all major decisions. Hence the ancestors can be said
to have had a greater influence on people’s lives then the higher gods117.
If the living fulfilled their responsibilities to their ancestors in a proper way, the spirits continued to
protect and support them. If, however, the ancestors were neglected or insulted in any way, problems
would ensue. The ancestors might appear as ghosts in their former homes, and in the worst case, take
the soul of a living person to the underworld with them. The danger was at its highest during the first
30-40 days following a death, for this was when the soul was not yet fully located in the underworld.
Visiting ancestors might appear in human or in animal form118. Meeting dead relatives again could also
be a positive experience full of joy. The dead soul was thought to appear as a bird, or a butterfly, or as a
flower, among other things. In Karelia, belief in this kind of reincarnation and the soul was widespread,
and children were advised not to harm the birds, since they might the carrying the souls of their ancestors.
If a butterfly flew inside the house, it was not touched, and certainly not killed119.
The relationship between the living and the dead seems to have been curiously twofold. On the one
hand, the spirits of the dead were thought to reside in the land of the dead, where they could only be
reached by the soul-traveling tietäjä. On the other hand, people also had a more personal relationship
with the dead and would visit their graves, talk to them, and give them offerings. During certain yearly
feasts, the spirits of the dead were thought visit their living relatives. The difference between these two
approaches can probably be explained through the status of the deceased. One’s own ancestors were
112 - Talve, Ilmar. Suomen kansankulttuuri.
113 - Sarmela, Matti. Suomen perinneatlas.
114 - Siikala, Anna-Leena, Suomalainen samanismi.
115 - Haavio, Martti. Suomalainen mytologia.
116 - Varonen, Matti. Vainajainpalvelus muinaisilla suomalaisilla.
117 - Harva, Uno. Suomalaisten muinaisusko.
118 - Talve, Ilmar. Suomen kansankulttuuri.
119 - Konkka, Unelma. Ikuinen ikävä. Karjalaiset riitti-itkut. Helsinki: SKS, 1985.
Óðrœrir 96
regarded as somewhat closer and more familiar (albeit still with the element of fear and horror that is
always present when the living approach the dead), but the souls of the powerful tietäjä, and of other
powerful people, were regarded with fear120.
Finnish spells and folk songs also represent two ideas about the location of the souls of the dead. The
first idea is that the dead simply live in their graves. However, the second idea is that the souls reside in
an underworld called ‘Tuonela’ or ‘Manala’. But as Kaarle Krohn has shown, these two concepts do not
contradict each other121. The god of death, ‘Tuoni’, did not originally mean the personification of death but
the dead corpse itself. From there, it evolved into a general term for death, and finally became the name for
the ruler of the land of the dead. Yet in many folk poems, the “house of Tuoni” simply refers to the grave.
So it would not be unreasonable to say that the ancient Finns probably thought that they continued to live
in their graves, and formed a community of the dead in the graveyard. In later times, however, ‘Tuonela’
and ‘Manala’ became more abstract concepts122. This explains practices such as memorial feasts in the
graveyards and the need to lay the dead person at rest in the graveyard of his own community.
IX. Cycle of the Year
Finland has four distinctive seasons, which have had their effect on the yearly festivities. The ancient
Finns divided the year into a winter half, and a summer half, with the two yearly transitions between the
two halves occurring in mid-October and mid-April. In the middle of the summer half was midsummer
in July, and in the middle of the winter half, midwinter in January. In an agrarian society, there was little
reason to follow the Solstices and Equinoxes (which are decided in accordance with the movements of
the sun), and so changes in temperature became the deciding factor; July is usually the hottest month in
Finland while January is the coldest123.
Each year ended and the new year began at the ‘Kekri’ feast, which was held around the end of
October, or beginning of November. Kekri was a harvest feast and a memorial celebration for the family’s
ancestors, who were thought to visit the living on that occasion. The next major celebration was ‘Joulu’
(Yule, Christmas), which probably grew in significance over time due to Christianity, and many traditions
originally associated with Kekri were transferred to Joulu124.
The Joulu period lasted for three weeks, from the 21st of December to the 13th of January. During this
time, sacrifices were made to the spirits in order to ensure luck for the future. These sacrifices were mostly
given mostly to household and land spirits. It was also believed that ancestors visited their relatives at this
time of the year, as well as at Kekri125. Joulu ended around the mid-winter, called ‘Talvennapa’, when the
winter’s back was said to be broken (like the great oak was cut down in the folk songs), and the spring
started to return to the world. The coming of spring was hurried during Shrovetide by certain rituals;
during Easter, young children would walk from house to house to show off the first, decorated, branches
of spring, and to recite spells of good luck to the hostess of the house. This tradition still lives in Finland
as part of children’s culture126.
When spring arrived, people would gather in natural places to celebrate the new season of growth.
During these feasts, nature spirits were worshiped, and the sacred fires burned. Cattle were put out to
120 - Varonen, Matti. Vainajainpalvelus muinaisilla suomalaisilla.
121 - Krohn, Kaarle. Suomalaisten runojen uskonto.
122 - Ibid.
123 - Vilkuna, Kustaa. Vuotuinen ajantieto.
124 - Ibid.
125 - Varonen, Matti. Vainajainpalvelus muinaisilla suomalaisilla.
126 - Vilkuna, Kustaa. Vuotuinen ajantieto.
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pasture, and magical rituals were carried out for their protection during the summer. During May and
June, great communal feasts for Ukko were held. At these feasts, food was offered, and people prayed to
Ukko that he would give them rain and good harvest; during July, there was the Day of the Bear127. As the
year progressed towards autumn and winter, the celebrations became more associated with land spirits,
the household spirits, and the ancestors. The great communal gatherings in the spring gave way to more
family-focused celebrations held inside the house and in the yard. Cattle and horses were again brought
inside, and people once more prepared for winter128.
Talvennapa: The back of Winter breaks and the bear turns his side. This man is performing a rite to help
break Winter’s back.
Editor’s Note:
The author would like to let it be known that some of the Finnish words that are capitalized here would
not normally be so in Finnish. As the editor, I have tried to tread a line between the Finnish and English
rules. Secondly, in referring to the ‘luonto’, the word ‘luonto’ would not normally be prefaced with an
article in Finnish. In English, this is not possible as it would cause ambiguity for the reader. -Cat Heath
Photographs:
Kuppikivi Harola, Talvennapa and Riittipaikka Mansikki images courtesy of Jani Koski.
Birth of Fire, Uhrikallio Suovu and Kuppikivi Rapola images courtesy of Ranys Tuunainen.
127 - Ibid.
128 - Ibid.
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Self-Directed
Language Learning
Strategies for Reading Primary Sources in Their
Original Languages
•
By Caspian Smith
In recent history, the learning process has been the domain of the education establishment. Because of this,
many people are reticent to take charge of their own learning, believing that they need experts to present
new subject material to them. Whether a learner chooses an accredited university course or an online
workshop, it is natural to seek out a more experienced or knowledgeable person for instruction, but selfdirected learning is growing in popularity because of its many benefits. Reconstructionists as a group tend
to embrace self-directed learning, in part because their areas of interest are less common ones, making it
more difficult to find teachers, but also because they have come from (or into) a strong Western cultural
background that supports the individual’s quest for knowledge. Many reconstructionists teach themselves
history, brewing, traditional handicrafts, and folk skills. But when it comes to language learning, they
are unsure where to begin. However, with guidance on how and why to approach self-directed language
learning, reconstructionists can gain a valuable skill.
What is a source language, and what is the value of learning one?
A source language is exactly what it sounds like: it is a language in which one or more primary sources
are written. Primary sources are extremely valuable to historians and reconstructionists for several reasons.
Some of these sources give firsthand accounts and impressions of historical events; others record oral
traditions, sagas and skaldic poetry in a written form. Many textbook authors and historians discuss
historical events and make references to (or attempt to interpret) primary sources. These textbooks and
later works are called secondary sources.1 For example, Beowulf and Heimskringla are primary sources.
Beowulf is an example of Anglo-Saxon literature. Heimskringla is a collection of sagas that reveals
information about the society and politics of medieval Norway. An Anglo-Saxon reconstructionist could
read essays or listen to lectures about Beowulf, but these would be secondary sources. Relying solely on
secondary sources would be equivalent to reading film reviews without ever viewing the film itself. No
matter how accurate, descriptive and well-trusted the secondary source may be, it is not equivalent to the
primary source itself. 2
In general, reconstructionists understand this issue and require little persuasion of the value of primary
sources. However, one obstacle still remains. Reading a primary source in translation is not equal to
reading it in its original language. Textual meaning is open to varying interpretations, and a translator must
make interpretive decisions when choosing how to translate vocabulary and how to structure sentences.
1 - http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/source/robinson-sources.asp
2 - http://www.wisconsinhistory.org/turningpoints/primarysources.asp
Óðrœrir 99
Important and telling elements of a text may be glossed over or lost by the very act of translating. If moving
from secondary sources to primary sources removes one barrier of interpretation that stands between
the reconstructionist and the target culture, moving from a translation to the original document removes
another barrier. For reconstructionists, the decision to learn a source language usually arises within the
context of attempting to reconstruct the target culture. Mastering the original text of Beowulf makes sense
within the context of learning Anglo-Saxon culture. Whether a reconstructionist focuses on Old Norse,
Anglo-Saxon or another language, the language learning process can be long and difficult. However,
reconstructionists understand that a person who is not prepared to fully participate in one culture is left on
the outside of every culture, staring through the window at the riches within. The language and the culture
are best learned in tandem, as primary sources are literature rooted in a specific culture.3
Living, Dead, and Extinct Languages
A reconstructionist who has been persuaded of the value of learning source languages and has chosen to
learn Old West Norse has a very different task than, for example, a Canadian who decides to learn Dutch
in preparation for a trip to Holland. Dutch is a living language. Old West Norse, by many definitions, is a
dead language. Linguists differ in their definitions and categorizations of languages, so before contrasting
the differences between learning a living language and learning a dead language, the discussion will be
summarized and terms will be defined as follows.
A living language is one that is commonly spoken today. Most definitions include the requirement
that the language must have at least some native speakers. By this definition, Latin is not considered a
living language for, although it is spoken fluently by scholars and Roman Catholic authorities, no living
people speak it as a first language learned from birth. There is general consensus about the idea of a living
language, but there is more dissension about how to categorize others as either dead or extinct.
The older definition of a dead language simply required a language to have no native speakers. By
this definition, Old Norse and Anglo-Saxon are dead languages. The newer definition, partially informed
by Darwinian ideas of evolution, requires a dead language to have neither living native speakers nor a
living descendant language. By this definition, Anglo-Saxon is not a dead language because it evolved
into Middle English and then into Modern English. There was no one generation with which AngloSaxon died; it simply changed incrementally into something else. Other linguists would complicate the
discussion further by thus terming Anglo-Saxon as a dead language (no living speakers) but not an extinct
language (no living descendant languages). The other definition of an extinct language is one for which
all knowledge of its grammar, pronunciation, etc., has been lost. Ancient Egyptian was considered extinct
before the discovery of the Rosetta Stone, because no one could interpret its writings. After the Rosetta
Stone was discovered and Egyptian hieroglyphics could be interpreted, the language came to be viewed
as dead instead of extinct.
3 - E. Christian Kopff, The Devil Knows Latin: Why America needs the classical tradition (Intercollegiate Studies Institute, 2001) 23-24.
Óðrœrir 100
For the purposes of this discussion, a language that is currently spoken and which has native speakers
will be considered a living language. A language with no native speakers, whether it has living descendant
languages or not, will be considered a dead language. By this definition, the source languages studied
by reconstructionists are dead languages. The possible exception to this is Old Norse, which can be read
without difficulty by speakers of modern Icelandic.
Importance of Preserving Dead Languages
In addition to learning a certain language in order to access primary sources, reconstructionists are
often aware of their role in preventing their ancestral languages from becoming completely extinct (all
knowledge of its structure and literature being lost). The more students there are of a particular dead
language, the lower its chances of eventually becoming extinct. This paper is mainly concerned with
Northern European languages, most of which have extant documents and do not depend on current
native speakers to orally pass down grammar, vocabulary and stories. Languages such as those in the
Athabascan family, many of which were never written down, are currently becoming completely extinct
as their last remaining native speakers pass away and no documents exist to preserve their grammar,
vocabulary or lore. The possibility of this happening to Old Church Slavonic, Anglo-Saxon, or most other
languages valued by Northern European Reconstructionism is virtually nil because of the written record.
For reconstructionists, then, the value of learning a dead source language lies not in the need to preserve
it from oblivion, but in its inseparability from the culture being reconstructed.
Differences between Learning a Dead Language and Learning a Living Language
The aforementioned Canadian who is travelling to Holland might buy a Rosetta Stone program or
find a Dutch speaking partner to practice with. S/he could rent Dutch movies, subscribe to a Dutch
newspaper or host a Dutch exchange student. Should reconstructionists bemoan the lack of films dubbed
into Old Church Slavonic, or the scarcity of Gothic speaking pen pals? Hardly. In today’s global society,
people have some idea of how to go about learning a language informally, even if they have never done
so. However, most of these strategies are geared toward learning living languages, a task which is very
different from that of learning a dead language. Reconstructionists have many advantages over business
travellers in this case, as the skills needed to master a dead language are specific and fewer than those
required by a living language.
As detailed in the following table, there are four main language skills, and each can be categorized as
productive (active) or receptive (passive) as well as oral or written.4
OralWritten
ReceptiveListeningReading
ProductiveSpeaking Writing
4 - http://www.sil.org/lingualinks/languagelearning/otherresources/gudlnsfralnggandcltrlrnngprgrm/FourBasicLanguageSkills.htm
Óðrœrir 101
Mastery of a living language must eventually include mastery of all four skills. Mastery of a dead
language, on the other hand, requires complete reading fluency (including knowledge of genre structures),
some listening ability (for languages such as Anglo-Saxon whose bodies of literature contain many works
meant to be performed aloud), but no writing skill and very little speaking ability. As seen in the chart
above, reading and listening are the two receptive skills, while writing and speaking are productive. When
learning any language, receptive skills increase more quickly and nearly always exist at a higher level
of mastery than productive skills. This is true even for native speakers, as is demonstrated by the many
people who can read and understand a college textbook but would be hard pressed to write at that level, or
the audience members who appreciate the rhetorical abilities of a politician but could not deliver the same
speech with such effectiveness. This focus on reading and listening is a boon for the learner of a source
language as receptive skills are easier to acquire, especially for the self-taught learner.
Skills Required for Mastery of a Dead Language
Reading
The necessity of fluency in reading is obvious considering that the end goal when learning a source
language is to read primary sources, but when contrasted with the end goals of learning living languages,
the great difference becomes apparent. The Canadian traveller may never have to read more than street signs
and menus in Dutch. The Anglo-Saxon reconstructionist’s main interaction with the language takes place
through reading difficult texts in multiple genres. Reading with comprehension requires understanding
of the language’s underlying grammatical structure. Unfortunately, the word “grammar” appears to be a
powerful magical spell which immediately causes eyes to glaze over and mental paralysis to set in. There
is no way around learning grammar, but when it is approached as an interesting puzzle to be solved and
learners are passionate about the language and its culture, students who previously considered themselves
language dunces can acquire a high level of reading fluency.
Set list of vocabulary Modern English has around 300,000 words, with new ones being added and old ones falling out of use
constantly. Modern Spanish has around 100,000 words, and most other living languages have a comparable
number.5 Contrast that with Anglo-Saxon, which has only 50,000-60,000 words, or one-sixth as many
words as Modern English.6 In addition, there is no new slang, no technological vocabulary that arises with
each new invention. The Anglo-Saxon language that a student invests hours in learning this year will
not change at all over the next twenty years. Not only is the student of dead languages freed, for better or
worse, from the evolution of language, but the list of vocabulary itself is much smaller than that of most
living languages. In addition, not all the vocabulary words of a source language are necessary to read the
text of a single work. Students can focus their efforts on the vocabulary of one poem, saga or chapter at
5 - http://spanish.about.com/od/spanishvocabulary/a/size_of_spanish.htm
6 - http://hypertextbook.com/facts/2001/JohnnyLing.shtml
Óðrœrir 102
a time, mastering one text before moving on to another. The advantage (for language learners, not for
reconstructionism) of having a limited number of target texts quickly becomes apparent.
In order to read any single edition of a Dutch newspaper, the Canadian traveller needs to know around
3,000 Dutch vocabulary words. After a year of heavy exposure to the Dutch language, the traveller sits in
an Amsterdam coffee shop for a couple hours, reading articles and puzzling through about fifty unfamiliar
words, finishing the newspaper with a smile. But tomorrow there will be another newspaper, also with
about fifty unfamiliar words. The next day will bring another list of new vocabulary words, and the day
after that as well. Meanwhile, the Anglo-Saxon student has worked through the entire 3182 line text of
Beowulf. Even if each line has ten words, the reader still did not need to learn 31,820 words because
most of those words are common ones which are repeated many times. The student thoroughly enjoyed
reading Beowulf, and manages to re-read it about three times a year. Each time the book is reopened, the
vocabulary set remains the same. But far from boring the student, the repetition allows him/her to glean
new meaning and deeper understanding from the lines.
Translating in your head or on paper
Fluency in translation is necessary, but only from the source language to the reader’s native language. In
other words, while reading Heimskringla in Old Norse, the reader acquires meaning by mentally translating
each phrase from Old Norse into her native language. There is no need to translate anything from her
native language into Old Norse. This is another major difference between learning a dead language and
learning a living language. The Canadian traveller has to translate the Dutch she hears into her native
English, and also has to translate her own thoughts from English to Dutch before communicating them.
These two directions of translation are two different skills, and only one is necessary for learning source
languages. The beginning learner will usually translate on paper, because the translation must be done one
word at a time, frequently with the aid of dictionaries, and by the time the end of the sentence has been
translated, the beginning of the sentence may have been forgotten. As skill is gained and the speed of
translation increases, the need to write the translation will eventually cease.
Correct oral pronunciation
At first it may appear that pronunciation skill is not necessary, after all, the learner’s goal is to read source
texts, not to communicate with a community of Anglo-Saxon speakers. However, most of the recorded
literature comes from oral tradition and was originally intended to be performed aloud. Many learners will
eventually want to share their ability by reciting a poem, saga or other text in public. “In public” probably
does not mean Carnegie Hall; most likely it will be for family, friends, language enthusiasts or fellow
reconstructionists. Still, pronunciation is important. No modern bard or skald, having studied a language
and text, wants to butcher the pronunciation so badly that the audience receives the impression that
Beowulf just couldn’t speak German very well, bless his heart. Pronunciation practice can be combined
Óðrœrir 103
with translation practice (discussed above) by using progressively longer passages to memorize and recite
aloud. This builds memory and correct oral pronunciation as well as mental translation skills.
The skill of pronunciation, while necessary, is not identical with the skill of speaking. Speaking requires
forming an original thought, putting that thought in the target language, and then pronouncing it correctly.
It usually requires thinking on one’s feet as the conversation partner responds, necessitating the learner’s
further response to that answer. Reciting a saga or an epic poem does not require the language learner
to respond to a conversation partner or to create original material, complete with correct grammar and
accurate vocabulary. Rather, the learner is taking a completed text, often memorizing it, and then forming
the sounds correctly. So, for a learner to say, “I speak Anglo-Saxon” is very different than saying “I read
Anglo-Saxon”, “I understand Anglo-Saxon” or “I recite Anglo-Saxon”. Usually it would be inaccurate
to claim that one “speaks” a dead language when one’s skill actually lies in reading or studying the dead
language, but that is how it is commonly referred to within non-academic circles.
Self Directed Learning of a Source Language
Most language learners do not find themselves living two blocks from a major university with twenty
hours of free time a week and a thousand extra dollars in their pockets. For these learners, as for their
ancestors, necessity spurs creativity. Self-directed learning allows the language learner to move at his/her
own pace and to take advantage of the most convenient hours and his/her strongest learning styles, all at a
much lower cost. However, this approach also requires greater initiative and commitment, for the learner
must take on the roles of both teacher and student. Self-directed language learning can be defined as
language learning efforts where the learner makes most of the choices regarding goals, materials, methods,
plan, and evaluation, and takes most of the responsibility for executing and sustaining a language learning
effort. 7
The first step in self-directed learning, whether one is learning a language or another subject, is to design
a learning project. This can roughly correspond to a course and its curriculum, with the major difference
that a learning project can be as small or as large as the learner wishes, rather than being limited to the
length of a three-credit hour college course. The discussion that follows will guide learners in developing
a Language Learning Project (LLP), which will consist of four major parts: 1) a goal with objectives, 2)
methods/strategies, 3) texts/materials, and 4) a study plan. These four major parts will be analyzed and
modified if necessary throughout the duration of the LLP through the use of self-evaluation.
Developing a Language Learning Project
Set goals and objectives
Goals are general and often difficult to measure. Objectives are specific and can be measured. An
example of an overly general goal is: Become a fluent reader in Anglo-Saxon. A more specific goal would
7 - Don Snow, “Selling Self-Directed Language Learning”, Review of Applied Linguistics in China, 2, 2006.
Óðrœrir 104
be Read Beowulf in Anglo-Saxon without having to stop to look up more than one word per page. Specific
objectives that assist in attaining that goal could include: Translate the first page of Beowulf or Memorize
twenty Anglo-Saxon verbs. Chosen goals should be interesting and relevant in order to help the learner
sustain interest. Objectives should be specific and realistic steps toward reaching a goal. If your textbook
lists 200 verbs, formulating the objective Memorize all 200 verbs in six months is concrete, but it is too
long-range and vague to be a good objective. The objective Memorize five verbs a week for forty weeks is
a better breakdown of the task at a more realistic pace. Instead of the vague Translate Beowulf on paper,
one could choose the objective Translate one page of Beowulf on paper per week. Narrow and specific
goals are easier to complete, and they give the learner a sense of measurable progress. Remember, the
learner must set a pace that is sustainable even after the initial excitement wears off. Language learning
is not a sprint, it is a marathon.
The main goal should address the language to be learned and the level of mastery desired. Secondary goals
might deal with specific levels of mastery for skills including reading, translation, poetry memorization,
vocabulary, idioms/kennings and/or pronunciation. Once goals have been defined, objectives can be
chosen. The number of objectives will stem from the learner’s personality and learning style. A global
learner, one who looks at the big picture, may easily define goals but have a more difficult time with
objectives. This person may choose to define only one objective, and after that objective has been attained,
choose another one. A details person who loves the nuts and bolts of a project may revel in choosing
twenty graded objectives. The number of objectives initially chosen does not matter, as long as 1) they
help to attain the goal and 2) the learner works toward them consistently.
Choose strategies and methods
Strategies and methods are the ways learners work towards their objectives. Again, the strategies
chosen depend in part on an individual’s learning style. If you are unsure of your personality type or
preferred learning styles, there are many articles and tests online to help you explore your abilities. Once
you know whether, for example, you prefer abstract or concrete ideas, or whether you think randomly or
sequentially, you will be better able to choose approaches that work for you. It is extremely important to
start with your strengths, go at your own pace, and give yourself every chance for success.8
Among educators, the theory of multiple intelligences is well-known, and classrooms and curricula
are now being designed in new and creative formats so that all students can learn in the way that is
most comfortable for them. However, although teachers have had great success implementing multiple
intelligence strategies at the elementary school level, this tapers off as the subject material becomes more
advanced, more abstract and more heavily text-based. For the language learner, there is no escape from the
necessity of using both audio and visual learning methods. For the learner of a dead language, the subject
material will be even more heavily text-based (visual).
8 - Linda Verlee Williams, Teaching for the Two-Sided Mind: A guide to right brain/left brain education (Simon & Schuster: New York,
1983) 182.
Óðrœrir 105
Even though the theory of multiple intelligences recognizes, for example, a kinesthetic (movementoriented) intelligence, which is exhibited by dancers, martial artists and the like, strategies for implementing
a kinesthetic approach to memorizing verbs may have only a tenuous connection. For some kinesthetic
learners, the act of typing or writing provides enough physical activity, so note-taking is a very useful
exercise. Others who require more physical involvement may choose a partially integrated approach in
which the learner studies grammar exercises while walking on a treadmill or riding a stationary bike.
Alternation is another possibility, in which a fifteen minute vocabulary drill is followed by fifteen minutes
of stairs or stretching. The kinesthetic learner who chooses one of these approaches may make slower
progress than the learner who is naturally visually oriented, but faster progress than a fellow kinesthetic
learner who goes against his/her natural tendencies by trying to sit still and stare at verb tables for an
hour at a time. When choosing strategies and methods that work, learners may find it useful to remember
which of their school teachers they liked best, and why. Some of the methods used by those teachers can
be adapted to the learner’s Language Learning Project.
Regardless of the learner’s personality and preferred learning style, activities necessary for learning
a dead language must include reading texts, translating words and sentences, vocabulary exercises and
listening exercises. In addition to strategies discussed in textbooks and on language learning websites,
the learner must implement a regular review time. Review is necessary in order to solidify learning, and
material should ideally be reviewed two to three times. Each study time should therefore begin with
reviewing the material from two lessons (or study periods) ago, followed by a review of the previous
lesson, before addressing new material. In this way, all new grammar and vocabulary will be reviewed
two times as the learner moves through the material. A stack of vocabulary flashcards should be added to
and reviewed regularly, with each word being correctly identified ten times before being removed from the
deck. These older vocabulary words can be kept in a separate deck for occasional review.
The strategies and methods a learner chooses may be dictated in part by the chosen textbook or
materials, which will be discussed below. All strategies should be evaluated for effectiveness on a regular
basis, and modified or changed if necessary. Sometimes simply reordering vocabulary study and text
reading in different configurations helps to find an approach that is most effective for the individual. Even
experienced language learners do not always hit upon the right strategy the first time. Sometimes a method
that works at a certain time in life, a certain environment or while learning a certain language will not work
at a later time or for a different language. 9
Choose texts and materials
Not all texts are textbooks, although a textbook is usually necessary at the beginning. Problems can
arise when the textbook becomes a substitute for the goal, instead of a tool for reaching the goal. This
should not be as much of a problem when learning source languages, as the eventual goal is to read
specific texts in the target language. In other words, the learner’s main goal could be Read five sagas in
9 - Snow, “Selling Self-Directed Language Learning”.
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Old Norse rather than Complete all the exercises in the Old Norse textbook. The latter is an inappropriate
goal because it focuses on the textbook instead of the target language and source material.
One main difficulty that arises when choosing texts and materials comes from learners choosing
materials that are either too hard or too boring (or, unfortunately, both). When choosing a textbook, a
learner would do well to read as many reviews as possible. Online booksellers are nice tools for this,
because the reviews are usually sorted by rating. By reading all the five-star reviews and all the one-star
reviews, the learner will get an idea of what strategies and approaches each textbook takes, which types of
learners love the book and which hate it, as well as any gaps it may have. Because it is unlikely one will
be able to find and compare several Old Norse textbooks on the shelves of the local bookseller, it may be
necessary to order three or four online from a seller with an excellent return policy, with the intention of
examining them at home and returning the least preferred ones. In general, the textbooks published most
recently will be the most accessible for learners with little or no previous language learning experience.
Most of the older textbooks, while excellent, assume previous language learning experience (often Latin
or Greek, which were formerly required subjects) as well as a solid grasp of Modern English grammar.
Many of today’s North American college students and young adults attended schools which used whole
language curriculum, and are largely unfamiliar with grammar. A learner in this situation who chooses
a textbook that assumes knowledge of grammar can supplement his studies with an introductory level
English grammar textbook or reference book, which can clear up questions that the target language
textbook brings to light.
In addition to textbooks, other important materials include source texts in their original languages,
cds, mp3s or online recordings to assist in learning pronunciation, audio recordings of complete songs or
poems, vocabulary flashcards (make your own from index cards) and cultural materials (books on the art,
culture, mythology, history, technology, etc. of the culture in which the source language was used).
While not strictly a material resource, it is also helpful to find a study group or discussion group. This
group of people interested in the same language can help sustain motivation and answer questions a new
learner may have. Most learners of dead languages will find a study group online, as it is unlikely there
will be many others in the same town who are studying the same language. Online groups may also be a
place to find textbook recommendations and buy, sell or trade materials.
Set a study plan
In setting a study plan, learners must be realistic about the amount of time they can devote to a LLP.
Ideally, the learner will set aside at least two study times a week. Language study undertaken only once
a week is too infrequent, as language learning requires repetition and reinforcement. Twenty minutes of
study twice a week is far better than a ninety-minute study period every two weeks, even though the latter
actually involves more minutes spent studying. At the beginning, a twenty to thirty minute active study
period twice a week may be sufficient, although these will lengthen as the learner’s skill increases. Ideally,
active study should be undertaken for a short session each day, but this is not always possible in real life.
Óðrœrir 107
In addition to active study, learners should examine their schedules for opportunities for passive study. A
learner who listens to a pronunciation cd for 10 minutes every morning while getting ready for work has
added 50 minutes of passive study a week. A learner who tapes a verb table to the washing machine and
reads it aloud each time s/he does a load of laundry adds several grammar reviews a week. Anyone who
has lived with a language learner quickly realizes now many opportunities there are to fit study into one’s
weekly routine. All these strategies are part of a study plan, so do not be discouraged at the idea of fitting
in some language study each day.
A study plan will detail how much time to be spent studying (e.g. “Study X minutes on Tuesday and
Thursday” or “Listen to cd tracks 1-5 each morning”), how much material to cover (e.g. “Do exercise 3
on Thursday”) and some form of self-evaluation (e.g. “Self-test on Chapter 1 on Tuesday” or “Review
journal entries on Thursday”). This study plan should be reassessed every month to ascertain whether it
is sustainable in conjunction with the learner’s schedule and whether it is sufficient to accomplish the
learner’s language learning objectives.
Self-evaluation
For the self-directed language learner, self-evaluation is critical. Without evaluation, the learner cannot
know whether the methods and materials chosen are appropriate, whether the study plan is sustainable, or
whether objectives are being accomplished. Without an outside teacher to provide tests and quizzes, the
learner is responsible for observing and understanding his/her own successes and failures.
One method of self-evaluation is the self-test or self-quiz. When working through textbook exercises,
the learner simply decides that every fifth or tenth exercise will be completed without referring to notes or
textbook. If the learner feels unprepared, s/he should study in preparation. The mistakes will be corrected
afterward in consultation with the textbook, and a percentage grade assigned and recorded. If the result
is less than 70% accuracy, the four exercises preceding the test should be reviewed and the test repeated
before continuing. If a pattern of less than 70% accuracy emerges, the learner should revise study methods
or add more study time.
Another valuable method of self-evaluation is the study journal. This involves keeping a log for each
study session-recording what activites were done, how long the study period lasted and so forth-and
recording reflections about what is noticed in the language learning process. The goal of a study journal is
to gain a better understanding of the self as a language learner, and to create informal research questions
about language study methods which the learner can then explore while carrying out the LLP. The time
spent writing a journal entry increases the length of the study period by forcing the learner to recall what
has been done, which helps the learner to analyze the success or failure of a study session as well as to
solidify the learning from each session. This reaches the very core of self-directed language learning,
as the goal is not only to learn the language, but also to learn how to learn the language. Self-analysis
should accompany the whole process of study, not only at the beginning of designing a LLP, but also while
Óðrœrir 108
executing the plan, after which adjustments can be made so as to tailor the LLP to the individual learner.10
In order to reduce repetition in journal entries and make them less tedious, it is helpful to use a template.
Once the template has been designed, photocopied multiple times and cheaply bound or placed in a folder,
the learner simply has to fill out a sheet after each study session, and then review the journal entries every
four weeks or so. Here is an example template that has been filled out:
Study session date and length: March 25, 40 minutes
My Goal: To read a five-page excerpt from the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle without having to look up more
than one word per page.
My Objective (s): Read and translate one page of the excerpt each Tuesday, writing down all unknown
words and making vocabulary flashcards for them. Review flashcards daily. (Note to reader: In this
example, the learner studies grammar exercises from a textbook on Thursdays. She did not write down the
objectives that deal with Thursday’s study session, only those pertaining to today’s session.)
The material I reviewed: Reviewed verb charts on pages 37-38 of Sweet’s Primer. (Originally this was
studied 2 sessions ago.) Reviewed vocabulary flashcards from page one of the excerpt, which I made in
my last study session.
The new material I covered: Read page two of the excerpt. Wrote down all unknown words, looked
them up and made flashcards for them. Re-read the page, referring to the flashcards for words I didn’t
know. Had problems with two verbs. Looked up the verb charts that showed those tenses, and flagged
them with a post-it note for review next study session.
The methods/strategies I used, and whether they worked: Played Mozart cd in background to stimulate
right brain thinking. Read through entire page before going back and looking up unknown words, because
I’m a global thinker. Reviewed verb charts, but I’m having a hard time remembering them. Strategy of
reading to review isn’t working. Maybe I should highlight each column in different colors, corresponding
to the different tenses? Or make up a rhyme to repeat the chart out loud, since I’m an audio learner? Will
ask online discussion group members if any of them are audio learners, and if so, how they approach verb
charts.
Tasks to do between now and next study session: Listen to pronunciation mp3s each morning while
driving to work. Review vocabulary flashcards daily-preferably after supper (I’m an evening person).
Photocopy verb chart, highlight the column I’m having trouble with, and find a place to stick it where I’ll
see it regularly (the inside of the medicine cabinet door?) Post in online discussion group, to let members
know that I am 40% of the way to completing my current goal!
10 - Snow, “Selling Self-Directed Language Learning”.
Óðrœrir 109
When these journal entries are used regularly, the learner can review them and detect patterns that only
reveal themselves over time. Which strategies work best? Which need to be changed? At first learners
think they will remember details of each study session, but after a few weeks, lessons begin to blur
together in memory. A reflective analysis jotted in point form immediately at the end of each study session
will prove helpful in the long run in deciding which methods and materials need revision. 11
Rewards for progress and strategies for sustaining motivation: Language Learning Projects are often
difficult to sustain simply because language learning inevitably involves a significant amount of work,
often of a repetitive and even boring nature. Because of this, motivational strategies can be as important
as learning strategies. Learners should choose many small rewards to be used frequently, as well as a
few larger rewards to be earned at certain levels of language mastery. Minutes spent on unpleasant tasks
(grammar drills, for most people) can be used to earn enjoyable activities, or favorite foods or music can
follow a completed study session. For a larger reward, a learner might choose to buy a very nice edition of
Beowulf to commemorate having read the text in its original language, or commission a piece of statuary,
weaponry or a tattoo after having read a certain number of Old Norse sagas. Choosing a reward that is
somehow related to the language and culture being studied is especially effective.
Conclusion
Prepared with multiple strategies, the self-directed learner can approach a new language with confidence.
A student who is learning how to plan a self-study program and choose material with care, who understands
the importance of making one’s own decisions in the language learning process, and who is developing
greater awareness of the importance of strategies in language learning, can attain a level of language
mastery that need only be limited by time and dedication, not by opportunity to interact with a teacher.
Reconstructionists in particular can benefit from learning a source language at their own pace, as they
integrate their deeper knowledge of source materials with the culture they are attempting to reconstruct.
11 - Verlee Williams, Teaching for the Two-Sided Mind, 182.
Living
Heathen
A Springtime Procession
Reconstructing an Ancient
Practice for Today’s Heathen
•
By Christopher Robert
The price of inaction is far greater than the cost of making a mistake.
— Meister Eckhart
As a heathen, I pondered for many years the question of how to reconstruct old or construct new practices
for today.
In Chapter 40 of his Germania, Tacitus tells of a number of Germanic tribes who shared a common
worship of a goddess, Nerthus or Terra Mater. He writes that the tribes believe that she involves herself in
human affairs, travels among the peoples, and resides in a sacred grove on an island in a wain draped with
cloth which none but her priest may touch.
Further, Tacitus indicates when the priest perceives the goddess’s presence, he escorts her in her wain
through the countryside and there are rejoicings and celebrations. No one goes to war, no one takes up
arms; every iron object is locked away. Then, and then only, are peace and quiet known and welcomed,
until the goddess has had enough of the society of men and is restored to her sacred precinct by the priest.
In light of that writing and quiet contemplation, Lone Star Kindred performed a springtime procession
around Texas with a goddess idol riding in a wain in May of 2011. For some years, we desired to find
ways in which to honor this goddess that were different from the common fashions employed by many
Heathens. In the weeks leading up to that day in May, a synchronicity of occurrences, in the forms of
potential omens and fortuitous coincidences, gave rise to our actions. Our plan was to travel a bit over 600
miles in a day and a night, taking our idol to places where people could gather, enjoy the company of other
Heathens, give gifts, and honor the goddess. Those gifts would be sacrificed into boggy wetlands near my
home. We believed that the community was interested because of the response received.
1
BACKGROUND:
For many years as a kindred, we sought to strengthen the gifting cycle with our goddess. In previous
years, we held rites in her honor and offered gifts, votive sacrifices and animal blots. Desiring to give more
honor to her and to give Heathens in Texas an opportunity to honor her as well, the procession seemed to
be an ideal opportunity. The idea grew from the actions of other groups. In the 1990s, Midgard Hearth, a
now-defunct heathen group in Houston, Texas, performed a procession wherein members placed an idol in
a wain (a trailer) and traveled the highway loop that encircles Houston, stopping at members’ homes along
1 - Tacitus, Cornelius. The Agicola and the Germania. Trans. H. Mattingly & S.A. Hanford. Penguin Putnam, Inc. 1970.
Óðrœrir 111
the way. Their actions formed the basis from which we decided to have this year’s procession. Moreover,
while spending time with two former members of Midgard Hearth, we discussed this year’s procession.
To my surprise, one of them told of how the original idea grew from an apocryphal story of a group in
England who traveled throughout the London Underground with a small wagon (similar to a Radio Flyer
wagon) containing an idol to perform a procession. Midgard Hearth drew inspiration from that story and
Lone Star drew inspiration from our friends.
THE LORE
Literary references to gods or goddesses riding in wains or wagons are limited. In addition to references
by Tacitus, there are references to the god Frey making an annual journey in a wagon in the Ögmundar
þáttr dytts ok Gunnars helmings as related in the Flateyjarbok.2 Further, Flateyjarbok also contains
another story of the King of Sweden consulting with the wagon-borne god.3 H.R. Ellis Davidson briefly
discusses these stories and some of the surrounding archeology4 and Rudolf Simek indicates that the Freyr
story fits in nicely with the procession of Nerthus as told by Tacitus.5
When confronted with a lack of foundation, we decided to move forward with the procession while
constantly consulting among ourselves in order to establish a tradition of review among our group to guard
against far-flung interpretations or actions.
THE PREPARATIONS:
Our preparations began simply with an idol and an idea. Given the distances, an ox-drawn wain was
not optimal (but was possible). Consequently, we chose a pickup truck (oxen) and a small trailer (wain).
The route and timing were easily determined given my driving habits (600 miles was easily attainable).
The ladies of the kindred, once given a schedule, sprang to action and organized welcoming places for the
goddess to be received and honored. As we like to say in Texas, they did us proud.
In addition to obtaining those things necessary to actually perform the procession, as a kindred, we
consulted on what we believed could happen. We hold that our gods can communicate by means of omens.
In the past, we believe we have received omens in response to our actions and we could receive such a
response here. We also agree with the inherent gender roles that women are much more intuitive when
interpreting signs and omens. To that end, I asked our kindred to be aware of peculiarities that might be
observed and considered. In the end, we believe that omens were seen and that they were positive.
When we spread the news, we also received a number of questions as to our plans. These questions
gave us good reason for further study to make sure we got it right.
Q: Would we wait to perceive the goddess’s presence to begin the procession (as indicated in Tacitus)?
A: No. We decided that we might not be able to make such a determination. Further, given the busy
nature of our kindred’s members’ lives, we determined to perform it on a specific day that allowed
for all of us to participate.
Q: Would we cover the idol?
2 - See generally: Davidson, H.R. Ellis. Gods and Myths of Northern Europe. Pelican Books. 1964., Davidson, H.R. Ellis. Myth and
Symbols in Pagan Europe. Syracuse University Press. 1988.
3 - Ibid.
4 - Gods and Myths of Northern Europe. P 92-95 & Myth and Symbols in Pagan Europe. P 116-119.
5 - Simek, Rudolf. Dictionary of Northern Mythology. D.S. Brewer, Cambridge. 1993. P 92.
Óðrœrir 112
A: Yes. Indications from Tacitus are that the idol was covered and we would continue the practice.
To that end, a kindred member sewed a silk covering for the idol and she remained covered from
the beginning of the procession until well after the end.
Q: Tacitus wrote that after the goddess’s time among men, slaves washed the wain, the vestments
and the idol in the sacred lake where she resided and were themselves drowned. How do
you plan to account for that?
A: I made a number of jokes about it and was a bit concerned when that time came. I planned to
buy my life with sacrificed silver and hoped the goddess would accept. I guessed that if I did not
trip, knock myself out and drown in the bog, the goddess would accept my bribe. Further, on the
day of the procession, a member of another group (Hridgar Folk) came to my rescue with a
handmade doll that served as a surrogate slave and was bogged in my stead.
THE TRIP:
Leading up to the actual day, I conferred with members of Lone Star to coordinate where to stop and
what would occur at the stops. We determined to have three stops where local Heathens could gather.
With that settled, we put out the word to the local community of our plan. The response was positive and
surprisingly widespread. We received a number of requests for additional stops along the route. To that
end, we made two additional stops that sparked good additions to the overall procession.
Departing at sundown on May 21 with a wain (trailer in which rode our idol, previously washed and
honored, we stopped in Dallas (one of the requested stops) and overnighted north of there, where a number
of people awaited with a warm reception. As the sun tipped the horizon on the 22nd, we started south,
stopping in Fairfield (another requested stop) and in Conroe. From there, we turned west for Killeen. After
a hearty meal, we once again turned north to head for home and race the sun.
At each of the stops, those gathered were allowed to give gifts for the goddess. Two days later I gathered
and bundled the gifts, traveled to a wetland area near my home, and bogged them to the goddess’s honor.
As mentioned, during one of the stops made, a member of Hridgar Folk presented me with a handmade
doll to act as a slave to take my place in the bog at the end of the procession. For that gift I am thankful,
because, barring my genetic stupidity, my children will not lose their father in a freak drowning accident.
We were not even halfway into the procession when I started to notice occurrences that prompted me
to contact the ladies in our group. I explained what I observed and asked that they confer and consider
what it could mean. Further, other kindred and family members observed related occurrences almost
simultaneously. The ladies conferred and made the declaration that these occurrences were omens and
that they were positive.
After returning home, I gathered the gifts given in the goddess’s honor and wrapped them together
in a burlap bag bound with silver wire and tied off with an antique key. At the local wetlands, yet more
occurrences were noted and omens considered. For days afterwards, members of the kindred noticed more
synchronicities that suggested positive omens. Overall, the procession was a success and the underlying
intent proved proper.
Óðrœrir 113
FUTURE PLANS:
Given the success of our actions and the response from the community, we will try to make the
procession an annual event. With this first try, we practiced a bit of trial and error and now know what
worked and what did not.
For the next procession, we will have a new wain dedicated to the purpose and decorated for such.
Additionally, we commissioned a hand-carved idol from a talented Heathen artist that will become a
centerpiece of our kindred, just as the goddess herself is such an important part of our family.
CONCLUSION:
When trying to translate practices recorded in old books into our modern day, we wished to adhere to
those writings with a reconstructionist point of view. To that end, we believe the procession to have been
a success and we will perform it again in the new year and try to bring about practices that adhere to an
older mindset.
Óðrœrir 114
Two Yule Rituals
One Heathen’s Experience in
the Northeast US
•
By Josh Heath
My name is Josh Heath; in a fit of insanity I took it upon myself to begin documenting different Heathen
events I attend. My long term hope is that by creating a record of our worships, blóts, and Things, we can
leave important parts of our history to those that will follow us. I want our history to travel, I want some
new Heathen 5, 10, 20, maybe a 100 or even 1000 years from now to know the positives and negatives of
our experience with reconstructing Heathenry, how we took what we learned and how we actually applied
it to our lives.
I am married to the most wonderful Catherine Heath. We met in S. Korea while I was in the U.S. Army
and though she is English, and I American, we have made a life of craziness together. Together we helped
to build The Open Halls project, which has allowed us to help U.S. military members find community
wherever they travel. This however is not a story about me, my family or the Project.
What follows are two stories about the 2011-2012 Yuletide. This year our Yule was bookended by
two very different but equally powerful events. For those that do not know, the US is broken up into
loose regions that have certain distinctive cultural traits. The Northeast, which stretches loosely from
Maine to Maryland, has an incredibly active, engaged, and dedicated Heathen community. Internally to
the Northeast, there are many different groups, kindreds, and fellowships and organizations. Two distinct
but close, both physically and relatively, groups invited us to celebrate the beginning and ending of Yule.
We recently moved into the Poughkeepsie area of New York, and we already feel like an important part
of this community. It has been an awesome experience so far. Many thanks to the Oak Ridge Fellowship,
located in New Jersey, for inviting us to their Yule celebration. Thank you to Laerad Kindred, Located in
Eastern New York, for inviting us to their Húsel to end Yule.
****
I’m going to take a moment and change the tone. Why? I don’t want whoever reads this to get bored,
and I don’t want everything to be super serious all the time. I do not believe in stoicism in Heathenry and
at some point you can expect a paper relating to Heathen philosophy from me. Just keep expecting it and
it might happen. So, the point is humor is good for you, and I want folks to look at ritual as an integral
part of our lives. Which means, sometimes it isn’t just good to laugh, it is required. Laugh with me people!
No seriously, I want everyone to realize that laughing doesn’t reduce the sacred nature of our rituals,
relationships built on the lack of true mirth are not as deep as those that encourage both time for laughter
and time for seriousness. This is all my humble opinion of course.
Continue reading to get more of my skewed perspective on Heathen events in this era, area, and such.
What will you discover? What will I reveal?! Read on then to discover. (Dramatic, huh!?)
So. Do you want to read a story about why we worship the way we do? Or do you really want to know
what we did? Or do you want to know a little bit of both?
Modern Heathens work constantly to understand the worldview of those ancient Heathens that we base
our worshiping and worldview upon. That takes an intense amount of desire, focus, and work to interpret
correctly. Thankfully we have dedicated researchers who really are intent on discovering the underlying
Óðrœrir 115
reasoning for the actions and finds we have discovered.
So. Since you didn’t ask, I’m going to give you both. You, who may be some crazy kid a thousand years
from now who has found this crumbling manuscript in a recently uncovered internet era archaeological
dig. You, who are likely the descendant of someone in my today, who wanted to know why their ancestors
gave up their ancestral faith, for the faith of a foreign strange cult. YOU! I’m being incredibly pretentious
assuming this paper, and hopefully the book around it will survive that long, and that you want to know
how and why we called ourselves Heathens and how and why we worshipped the way we did.
Enough with the pretense, exposition and plain bollocks. Onwards!
****
Our first ritual was one which I think requires a serious tone and it will be presented that way. I
remind you future reader that this doesn’t reduce the sacred nature of the ritual of which I speak of
with a more gentle humorous tone. If you wish to build a reciprocal relationship with the Gods, your
Ancestors, the Landvaettir, than occasionally this will be filled with laughter, and occasionally it will
be filled with tears and silence. All are important, all are valid, and all are real aspects of life. Living
Heathenry is just that, living your life in all its parts as a Heathen.
Blót: Honoring the Gods
with the Oak Ridge Fellowship
My wife Cat and I had been invited to begin Yule with the Oak Ridge Fellowship in New Jersey.
This was a unique honor for us, we had just moved into the general area, but had been made to feel like
members of the community immediately. It helped that we already had met several folks at the East Coast
Thing a few years ago, and kept up with them through Facebook. Building relationships is essential! The
Oak Ridge Grove is on Lisa and Gary Golden’s land in New Jersey, and they had opened their lovely home
to us.
Our day began early. So early in fact that the sun wasn’t even beginning to peek up over the horizon
when I first rolled out of bed. Excitement, a shower, and a good cup of coffee charged up my batteries and
the day began in earnest. Blót was originally supposed to begin at 7am, however, several folks were due to
arrive a little late, and Gary chose to push back the start time to ensure everyone would make it.
As folks began to awaken from their slumber, anticipation brought a charge of electricity to the air.
Coffee and excitement helped to motivate those as they awoke from the previous night’s merry-making.
After all participants had arrived, our gracious gregarious Gothi Gary handed out the roles to those in
attendance. For me, this was one of the decisions I applaud him for the most. Engaging the members of
the community in such a sacred act, gives them a feeling of not just witnessing blót, but actively being an
integral part of it. I was chosen to help carry the pig to the grove, and to offer a bread man to the Odin idol
as well. To say I was honored to do so is an understatement.
Gary had organized feeding our porcine friend apples soaked in mead a few hours prior to blót time.
This had a calming effect on her, and she was generally fairly relaxed when we arrived to bring our
honored guest to the grove. Four of us used metal poles to lift and carry the pig while she stood inside her
cage. We marched ahead of the procession of the extended fellowship into the grove. The ground leading
into the grove is uneven and roots, dips, and holes are common. The biggest pressure on my mind was
making sure I didn’t trip while carrying the sacrifice.
The grove is set behind the Golden’s property, just outside of their cleared backyard at the edge of the
Óðrœrir 116
woods. It is walled in with low stones, an altar sits in the center, and two large god-poles stand towering
just taller than most men. The two poles are for Thor and Frey. Laerad had brought their Odin idol as well,
and his one eyed gaze watched us as we entered. We made it into the grove without incident, settled the
pig down beside the god-poles and waited for everyone to gather. There are many ritual formats given in
books written for new adherents to Asatru. All seem to require flowery speech and large amounts of verbal
bombast. Gary spoke softly, but strongly. And yet his words were not meant for us. They were meant for
the Gods to hear. I still don’t remember exactly what was said, in the end, it wasn’t important. Deeds over
words is something we hear a lot as Heathens these days. This moment was all about our deeds.
One person held the rope we’d tied around the blót-swine’s neck, and another stood just behind Gary,
ready to take the blót rifle to clear it once the deed was done. Gary opened the gate to the cage, spilled
some corn on the ground to entice her out, and patiently took aim. At the moment Gary took the shot,
she moved her head. The bullet struck, but not in the spot intended. I know many that would have been
terrified at this occurrence, so much that they would have failed to take action. Gary is not one of those
people. He apologized to the pig, and took aim again. This shot was perfect and it went down immediately.
All in all, it took only a couple seconds from his first to his final shot. It was over incredibly quickly, and
efficiently. Taking care that the animal is in as little pain as possible is essential. We expect our meat to be
butchered humanely and safely. Gary ensured this was the case.
We grabbed hold of the pig and we set her upon the table, a bowl was held under the neck to catch the
first blood that our Gothi’s blade let loose. My wife, Cat stepped in and collected the remainder, and then
Gary began to stain the idols with our blót’s sacrifice. Gary took a hlaut twig and sprinkled the attendants
from the bowl with the sacred blood. A portion of the blood was poured into a horn, mixed with mead and
would be offered to Gary’s Odin Pole which sat outside the grove. The ritual slaughter of the pig is done
so we have a connection with the animal, we know where our feast meat is coming from. We do so in a
respectful manner because we recognize a life is given so we can eat. The blood is offered to the gods, it
shows both our dedication to them, and it acts as a vessel for the symbolic circulation of luck between god
and man. The gothi takes a portion of the blood from the bowl, once it has been sanctified by the gods, and
he symbolically spreads the luck that they imbue it with around to those in attendance. Again, at all times
respect was felt for the animal we would eat and that gave its life for us.
We processed as a group to the god pole of Odin. At this god pole we again made offerings, these
included a portion of the blood from the pig mixed with mead, and bread. I had initially prepared things
I’d wanted to say, but again, our actions were so overpowering, my words seemed to echo hollowly in my
mind and I chose to refrain. Most of the group returned to the house at this point, but a few of us returned
to the grove to field dress the sacrifice and to organize the ritual space. We made sure the altar was back in
its original position, everything was set where it should be, and that the offerings were where they should
be. This was just a second look at the space to ensure the most positive response from the gods and from
the land for our actions. It seems difficult to describe, but the moment was quite a bit fuzzy in my mind.
We cut the head from the pig’s shoulders, and laid it upon the Frey post. When it was placed there, the
action seemed so correct; we all smiled. The image that written words convey seems slightly gruesome,
but in person everything seemed to be as it should. The entrails were removed and placed within a shallow
hole. They were an offering for any of the landvaettir that wished to have them.
The blot-swine was carried back to Gary’s shed and we began the process of cleaning, skinning, and
butchering. Most of our group went back to the house. I am told there was a feeling of reverence and a
deep emotional effect on those there. I was asked to assist with the butchering, and I didn’t interact with
others until quite some time after we had finished. Set behind the house, this shed was one set aside as a
work space, and Gary often used it to clean and butcher animals he had hunted. It had been years since
Óðrœrir 117
I’d witnessed this process, and it was amazing to me. Knowing the animal your meat comes from bothers
some people enough to stop eating it. For me it’s the opposite, I respect the animal that has given its life so
that we can eat. It lived a good life and was treated well, killed well, and had a purpose. Factory farming
animals has removed us from the beauty of life in so many ways. I knew again, that what we’d done was
right, and it was done well.
After we butchered the meat, Lisa, our hostess, came and added a marinade to flavor it, and the pork
was wrapped in foil. At this point I took a well needed break from the morning’s activities and headed back
to bed. Though I lay down, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep. I was so full of energy that I just sat there until
my wife fell asleep, and then I got back up.
The atmosphere was festive from that point on. Folks drank a little, laughed a lot, and chatted as
normal. Gary seemed a little worried about not hitting his mark correctly the first time, but I and many
others assured him that his skill and his steady nature was what mattered. Nothing could be done about
the pig moving her head. That was her choice to make, and Gary took the absolutely correct actions when
this occurred. Historically, blót would likely not have been as clean, but we wanted to ensure the most
humane treatment we could provide. As the day progressed we noticed birds landing in the grove, and we
kept an eye on which ones had chosen to do so. I personally saw a hawk, a falcon, and a vulture take part
in the offerings. We all took this as a good omen.
The pork was set to roast around 12 noon and preparations for other dishes for the meal began as well.
The feeling in the air was one that I’d only felt before at family holidays. People were pleasant, chatty,
and caring. Most of these folks I’d only met a few times prior, but it was like being home with this group
of wonderful people.
The meat cooked quickly and calls were made to ensure that those who were coming for the meal, but
hadn’t made the blót would make it in time for the feast. We assembled the dining area, and Gary and Lisa
worked incredibly hard at preparing both the feast hall and the meal. Lisa took to her role as the lady of the
hall and she seated everyone in their respective places at the tables. This action, though ritualistic, seemed
pleasant, natural, and it felt like wherever we were placed had purpose. This feast was an extended part
of the ritual nature of the day. Feasting was historically a very important ritualized event. Our modern
feasting is then based in the same concept.
After everyone was sat, Jesse and Christine, both members of the Oak Ridge Fellowship, brought
around a bowl of water and white cloths, so that we had a chance to wash out hands. This again had the feel
of ritual, but a familiar one, a pleasant one, and one that had the purpose not just of physical cleanliness,
but ritual cleanliness as well. It reminded me of the Passover Seder I attended while I was stationed with
the Army in Iraq. As an outsider at such a ritual I could only feel comfortable to a certain degree. At this
blót, I felt like I belonged and this small ritual was just one small aspect of that feeling of belonging.
Once washed and dried, Gary opened the sliding door to his backyard, and he began to ask the ancestors
to join us. This was awe inspiring, and a cold chill crossed by shoulders as everyone invited those who had
passed to join us for the feast. I invited my godfather Spec (Arthur Dicey Jr.) to join us, and Cat invited
many members of her family to sit with us as well. The hall was filled with thirty or so people and they all
called on others to join us. Tears flowed, but that was simply a warm up for what would follow.
Near the dining area, a small altar space had been set up to host pictures of the ancestors of those who
attended. Filled with photos from one end of the large table to the other, it was a great representation of
the thirty or so people that attended the feasting and the Sumbel. Truly it felt like our ancestors were in the
room with us, enjoying the festivities.
We feasted at this point, laughter, good food and drinks made their rounds. After the feasting, we had
chosen to engage in a sumbel. Sumbel is a ritual that is overdone, underdone, misunderstood, understood
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without question and done for the right, and the wrong reasons. Sumbel is one of the most sacred rituals
in heathenism, on a par with blót, but with a different focus and purpose. Blót is about the community’s
dedication to a reciprocal gifting relationship with our gods. Sumbel is about reaffirming the frith-bonds
between members of that community and the passing of the horn symbolically represents the weaving of
those bonds. I know of groups that attempt to do sumbel with groups of 500 or more people. Can any of
them really say they know everyone they are choosing to entwine their luck with? Done correctly, Sumbel
is cathartic and bonding; this sumbel fit that requirement perfectly.
Lisa acted as the cup bearer, representing both her role as lady of the hall, and the physical representation
of the active frith bonds being forged through our words. The title Frithweaver is welled earned in this
regards. This was a three round sumbel. The first round was dedicated to the gods. I raised the horn in
honor of the gods that dwelled within the Oak Ridge grove and asked they gift us in return for our gifts to
them. The second round I made a mistake with my words that still digs into me. This round was dedicated
to Ancestors, and I chose to honor those soldiers that had passed into their ancestral halls. I meant to
say that SSG. Eric Stanley Trueblood will always be remembered. Sergeant Trueblood, these words are
dedicated to both digital and written form. I will do my best to never have your name or deeds forgotten.
This ancestral line was and is usually the most difficult as it quickly can become emotional. Sumbel this
time was no exception. I have an audio recording of the sumbel, and I hope to successfully transcribe the
words said during the event. Our last round was open for anyone to toast, or boast in any fashion they felt
was appropriate. I had tried really hard to write a skaldic poem in honor of Lisa and Gary’s hospitality, but
specific words failed me at the time. So in honor of them, I used a bit of time honored skaldic alliteration,
to show my appreciation to them. I don’t know if the history of this style of poetry was known to the
assembled community. Alliteration was considered a great poetic
skill in Medieval Scandinavia. Consider a society that doesn’t
have access to dictionaries or thesauruses, the ability to string
related alliterative words together that way would have been
pretty impressive.
After we finished the sumbel the feasting area got
cleaned up and we reassembled again to witness the
‘Klandestine Krampus’ gift exchange. This should
not be seen as a serious ritual, it was a fun exchange
designed to break up the serious nature of sumbel.
Sometimes you just have to laugh a lot, and this was
totally one of those times! The Krampus is an assistant
to Santa Claus in Bavarian tradition who takes the
naughty children and stuffs them into his sack. This
year we began what will hopefully become a regular
tradition. The ‘AmeriKrampus.’ The AmeriKrampus takes
portions of the traditional Krampus story and integrates them
with aspects of American redneck culture. He carried a version
of the Krampusruten, or bundles of birch twigs, and he paired
it with a baseball cap, sparkly mid-rift shirt with gut pouring
out over his pants and a checkered shirt. His Krampus horns
poked out through the cap and his monstrous expression was
well applied.
Unlike the traditional Krampus, ours oversaw the gift
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exchange and gladly smacked everyone that received a gift with this Krampusruten. Coal was also thrown
liberally around the living room that had become our Krampus den. After the gifts were all delivered the
main parts of the night’s ritual activities were over. At this point we transitioned into spending time with
each other and just enjoying the night. Beer was drunk, jokes were made, and merry making occurred late
into the night.
It was one of the best Yule gatherings I’ve ever been to. I hope for many more in the future.
Húsel: A Formal end to Yule
Laerad, a group of Heathens in the New York region had invited us to celebrate the ending of Yule with
them at the home of Murray Lorberer and Lorien McCabe, both members of Laerad. This wonderful
group of Heathens have quickly become our close friends, and it is always an awesome time when we
hang out with them. All you need to know is that they rock!
Speeding along the road I thought we would be showing up just in time for the festival Josh Rood
was calling the Jólnir’s Húsel. Jólnir is one of the lesser known names of Odin. Odin is arguably (I mean
seriously arguably, people argue constantly about it) one of the most major deities of our time. Many
groups honor him, and yet understand his roles and worship him very differently.
Turn, turn, and wrong turn. We pull into Murray and Lorien’s yard, and we were greeted well. Hugs,
beer, and hellos were heard all around. We happily said hello to folks we hadn’t seen in years, and happily
introduced ourselves to those we had never met before.
Being invited to participate in ritual, worship, and blót should be seen as a big thing. Allowing folks to
enter one’s inner-yard and participate in the holiness of gifting between that group and the Gods; that is
humbling and wonderful.
Time passed and preparations occurred. Laerad was hosting the worship and they were working
diligently to ensure the best outcome to the event. Josh Rood would act as Gothi. Some groups today
choose one person to be a Gothi for their group. Some, look to those who are the right choice to officiate
a particular blót, worship, or ritual. Rood’s connection to Odin is strong, and it was right that he lead the
Húsel.
As the sun began to set, the hand carved idol of Odin was carried to the tree that would be the centerpiece
of the worshipping. Before it was set a horg, a stone cairn designed to be used as an altar. Atop the horg
was set a large brass bowl that would be used to house a fire. Odin was crowned with a wreath, and candles
were set upon his crown. Sat before the tree, his one eyed gaze was obvious and open to all assembled.
Before I arrived at the horg, the space was consecrated, dressed, and prepared for the worshipping.
Juniper was laid around the base and this greenery gave the area a very classic yule look. The space was
established as a holy ve and fire was traced around four trees that encircled the horg and the tree it sat
before. They marked the barrier of that holy space. Each of these trees was decorated with ribbon, but in
the descending darkness these became simply peripheral to the main area around the horg.
The worship was twofold. Offerings would be made to the fire and would be hung upon the tree.
Laerad had constructed offerings to be thrown into the tree, in case folks had not prepared any themselves.
There were small wreaths with entwined copper, silver, and brass threads. Small precious stones were
interspersed around them. They shined with beauty. Additionally there were copper plates, tied together
with string. These plates were embossed with imagery from our myths. In the darkness it was difficult
to make out all the details on them. This shows to me two parts of our worldview, that the gifting is
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important, and that it is hospitable to ensure that all involved can participate in the gifting. My wife had
crocheted two hanged men made of flammable wool. These we attached to the offerings provided by the
Laerad crew, and we stood before the tree, and around the fire.
Rood began the ritual by inviting Odin to attend the worshipping we had prepared for him. He recited
an alliterative poem he had composed to honor Odin. He listed the deeds of the One-Eyed god, among
them his presence at the formation of Laerad, and he recited many of his names, Fjolnir, Grimnir, Odin,
Wanderer, and more. He bent his knee in respect before the idol, and showed both his honor, and respect
for the One Eyed God. If the Poetic Edda still exists in your time fair reader, please look up the many
names of Odin. They are too many to name here.
Respect for the gods is important, you show respect to your parents, to those who have earned a place
where they deserve respect, and those that are hosting you. Some bend a knee to the Gods, some bow their
heads, and some show they respect them by meeting their eye, knowing they are terrible, and open to their
gifts. The action is important, as long as it shows that you have that respect.
I bowed my head slightly, but kept my eyes open to watch the assorted members of our community. I
take my role of recorder, reporter, and teller of tales seriously. I hope someday future Heathen, that you
read these words and see the worth of those that took these actions. Plus I kind of like being able to see
what is going on around me. You never know what could jump out of the woods at just the wrong time.....
Rood invited Odin to accept our gifts, allow our worship to be honored, and to grant us luck for our
actions. In turn we took our offerings and threw them into the tree. In ye olden times, hanging offerings
for Odin may have been common. We have tales of hanging offerings in Uppsala Sweden for Odin, and
the other Gods assembled there. The tree can be seen to act as a method for showing worth, both to the
tree for its connection to Odin, and to its connection to those assembled.
As well as the hung offerings, I placed a piece of an elf house I am building into the flames, Rood
placed the first copy of the journal Óðrœrir into the bowl, and Jesse Orton (a guest invited by Laerad)
placed one of the first idols he’d carved into the flames. Others threw things onto the tree, and into the
flames, but these three I remember clearly. They were all sacrifices of time, and dedication to the gods, to
our community and to you, the future generation.
In my mind, and honestly, this is UPG, unverified personal gnosis, once the worship has occurred, at
a certain point the idol becomes the god being worshipped. The idol becomes the deity for that particular
group, kindred, or fellowship. When worship is given, when the god or goddess is present, that idol is the
god. Take my opinion for what it is, an opinion, but I felt it appropriate to point out here. Or ignore this
paragraph completely. I won’t hold it against you.
Once the worshipping was done, we took the idol into our feasting hall with us. We ate, and a portion
was set before the idol of Odin in case he chose to eat with us. Now, I realize gentle reader that the idol
was carved of wood, but it was the principle of offering that is important. As with the Yule feast with the
Oak Ridge Fellowship, a bowl of water was made available for people to clean their hands. The húsel meal
is important for its connection to Laerad as a whole. The meat from the meal included a dish made from
a ritually sacrificed ram called Ottar. A portion of the sacred meal was set aside for Odin and this portion
was set in the flames of the horg after the meal. The omens that came afterwards are important to deciding
if our gift was accepted. I have to say I feel they were.
After we feasted, we held a sumbel. This sumbel was intended to be a little more open ended than most,
and the goal was to create a bond between those seated at the table, and to honor our One Eyed guest again.
Good words, good deeds, and challenges were spoken around the table. Our Thul was designated as Dan
Oropallo, a member of the Laerad crew. Dan challenged our deeds, and will make us keep our word that
we would follow through with the challenges issued to us.
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Doing this requires trust, trust not just in those challenging, but being challenged, and trust that the Thul
would ensure we kept our words or forced us to pay recompense for the failure to follow through with our
word. Making oaths, keeping our word; this is supremely important to us. Dear future Heathen, please
remember this. Our deeds define us, and our words should reflect our deeds.
The sumbel went on for several hours, as they are wont to do. There was talk about telling stories,
and your humble recorder had one prepared. Sadly, time flew by quickly and we chose to forego the tale
telling. A shame too, the story I had to tell still sits within my brain untold, but waiting to be told to those
around me, and to be accepted by those who hear it, as showing a deeper understanding of our community.
This record is done for now my future friend. The húsel was done, and my wife Catherine and I returned
home. Remember us. Remember our deeds, because with your memory of us, we live on forever. Don’t
forget to laugh once in awhile either. It’s worth it.
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Beer and Brewing
Culture Through the Eyes of a New
England Heathen
•
By Mark Andersen
Back in the mid 90’s, almost a decade before I converted to Asatru, I took up the hobby of home brewing.
Back then, my knowledge of beer in general was very limited, home brewing technology and ingredients
weren’t nearly at the level they are today, and not that many people were home brewing. Undaunted and
armed with the book “The New Complete Joy of Home Brewing” by Charlie Papazian, I gave it a fair go.
Nothing I brewed during that 2-3 year period was particularly good or memorable, but I learned the basic
mechanics of home brewing using only extract recipes and a stove top kettle. Ultimately, I gave it up. My
non-heathen ex-wife wasn’t very friendly towards the process. Usually she complained about the smell
of malt boiling on the stove and the mess made in the kitchen. Also, there really weren’t any other home
brewers that I knew on Cape Cod at the time. I have since found out that the CCLAMS (Cape Cod Lager
and Ale Makers) home brew club, of which I am now an active member, started around that time.
After the year 2000 I got divorced, and not long after met my current wife who introduced me to the
world of Heathenry. Finally in 2004, the two of us decided to attend our first ever Asatru event, the East
Coast Thing, that summer. One of the things that struck me most was the variety, and in most cases, the
quality of the home brewed beer and mead at the event. There seemed to be a real sense of pride in this
homemade beer and mead , not only by the individual brewers, but by the community as a whole. I was
also struck by the fact that folks were very hospitable when it came to sharing their beer and mead. It was
as if a significant part of the pleasure derived from brewing and mead making came from sharing it with
other heathens and the socializing/bonding that went along with it. This event and meeting other heathen
home brewers provided the inspiration I needed to really delve into home brewing again.
What was it that brought about this inspiration? Learning that good quality beer could be home brewed
and subsequently enjoyed was, of course, a big plus. The more time I spent around other heathens,
however, I realized that there was something more to it. What I came to understand is that home brewing
is an integral part of our culture and highly valued by the heathen community. Becoming a proficient home
brewer is one way that an individual can gain a good reputation within the community. It also is a great
way to bond with other members of the community. It is one thing to share a store bought bottle of beer
with a fellow heathen but it is ten times better to share your own home brew.
Shortly after my first East Coast Thing in 2004 I began a flurry of brewing activity. I bought lots of new
equipment, dusted off some of my old equipment from the 90’s, and began brewing a variety of extract
and partial mash concoctions. Some of the batches came out pretty good, but something was still missing.
I would bring bottles of it to local heathen events. My fellow Raven Kindred North members would
politely (but not too emphatically) praise some of my beers. None of them were anywhere close to being
home runs. I tried a variety of things, including shifting to outdoor brewing with a big 10-gallon kettle and
propane cooker so I could do full boils, as well as several other improvements. I still had not reached the
point where I was wowed by any of the beers.
Then I met a fellow heathen named Aaron Bennet at a pubmoot in Providence, Rhode Island. Aaron was
a member of a local Asatru Alliance kindred at the time. Not long after, I attended his annual Oktoberfest
party where he put on a keg of home brewed Oktoberfest. I was really impressed with it. That was the
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home run I had been trying to achieve.
Aaron told me that one big reason for the better quality in his beer was that he used the “all grain”
brewing process instead of using malt extract. I had read about “all grain” brewing quite a bit even back
in the 90’s but was a little intimidated by it. Aaron generously invited me over for a brew day to show me
the process. Admittedly, it did look easier than I had previously thought it to be. I got the run down on the
equipment needed and made a commitment to do “all grain” brewing from then on. With a lot of mentoring
from Aaron, I got pretty good at it and started to produce the quality beers for which I had always hoped.
My first home run came when I brewed a Maibock to be served at Raven Kindred North’s May Day
celebration back in 2007. I was completely hooked. I’ve been insane about home brewing ever since. I
can’t tell you how much time and money I’ve since invested in it, but a tour of my home will reveal a
brew cellar complete with lagering tank, racks of grain, grain mill, many carboys both empty and full, a
fully packed fridge just for hops and yeast, a kegerator in the living room, and so on- and the madness has
really just begun.
My second big inspiration for brewing, and beer in general, came when I visited Germany for the first
time also back in 2007. I had always wanted to visit Germany as I had been fascinated by the culture,
the history, the geography, and of course the beer! Having joined RKN a couple of years prior, I had a
chance to become good friends with a longtime member of RKN from Germany called Ingmar Lauer.
Ingmar had since started Raven Kindred Deutschland after moving back to Germany from Boston a few
years earlier. In 2007, I met Ingmar in Switzerland, and we worked our way from North to South doing a
beer tour of Deutschland that would bring us from the border of Switzerland all the way to the northern
city of Hamburg. What I discovered is that the German beer culture is substantially different than our
understanding of it here in the United States, based on the beer that has been exported to us. First, the
quality of beer in Germany, assuming you know where to look, is a lot better than what we’ve been
exposed to. Second, there is, in quite a few places, a deeply, well-established and very, very traditional
beer brewing and beer drinking culture in place. It really was an eye opener of how great it can be. I also
think that in experiencing the traditional German beer scene, I was witnessing a window into the past as to
how beer was brewed and enjoyed and thankfully still brewed and enjoyed in some places today.
There are quite a few very interesting practices in German brewing and beer drinking that you can
experience and I’ll enumerate a few of them here:
1. It was in the city of Bamberg that I first tried a beer that the city and region is renowned for
called Rauchbier. Rauchbier has been jokingly dubbed “bacon beer” by many because of the very smoky
beer made by Brauerei Heller Trum of Bamberg. Heller Trum brews a beer called “Aecht Schlenkerla
Rauchbier”. Schlenkerla does give the impression of almost drinking liquid bacon. They are one of a
couple of dozen breweries in the Franconia region of Germany that still brew this historical style. In their
case, the smokiness comes from the practice of kilning the malt over a beechwood fire before mashing it. I
reckon that most of the beers brewed historically from Germany all the way through Scandinavia had this
smoky aspect to it because of lack of modern kilning methods. Luckily we can reproduce these historical
styles either by purchasing pre-smoked malted grain or even smoking the grain ourselves.
2. We’ve come to know lager here in the United States as a bland, pale, and generally poor quality
cheap beer. I discovered in Germany that this is not the case with many breweries, especially in the
Franconian and Bavarian regions. I think this is a result of these breweries using a much higher standard
in both the ingredients that they use and the process that they employ. In many small breweries in Bavaria
and Franconia, they still use the process of step mashing called decoction mashing. This is a more labor
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intensive process that can be employed by the home brewer to bring out smoother, maltier, and clearer
lager beers, especially when it is combined with the process of lagering the beer at cold temperature.
3. In certain parts of Germany, there exists much more of a community aspect both to brewing and
beer drinking. Here in the US, all too often, going out for a few pints entails sitting in a bar staring at the
TV’s on the wall. This is not the case in a traditional brewpub in Germany. Often times, as a visitor, you
will find yourself sitting at a table with benches and conversing with complete strangers, or you’ll be
sitting outside in a gorgeous bier garten or bier keller enjoying the scenery along with the beer. Many of
the bier kellers in Franconia even have playgrounds and swing sets as they are often the weekend hangout
for families looking to enjoy a nice day out with good food, and great beer with other members of the local
community.
Nowhere is this communal aspect of brewing and beer drinking (mentioned in #3 above) better witnessed
than in a section of the Oberpfalz region affectionately called, by us beer tourists, Zoigland. This region
is in Northern Bavaria not far from the Czech border. Zoigl is the name of the beer that is brewed in the
5 remaining towns (Windischeschenbach, Neuhaus, Mittereich, Falkenberg, and Eslarn) that still preserve
the practice of communal brewing. They also have a tradition of having rotating Zoigl Stubes. A Zoigl
Stube is what we would call a pub but are essentially attached to the home of the family that operates it.
These Zoigl Stubes take turns opening on pre-designated weekends. There is even a calendar available
over the internet identifying which Zoigl Stube is open in each town on any given weekend.
I was lucky to be able to visit the neighboring Zoigl towns of Windischeschenbach (called Eschawo by
the locals) and Neuhaus in July of 2011. What struck me most about this visit, apart from the spectacular
Zoigl beer, was the tight knit community aspect of drinking in a Zoigl Stube. People were wandering in at
all hours, and it seemed as if they all knew each other. There was lots of singing, conversation, laughing,
and generally enjoying each other’s company while enjoying the locally brewed communal beer. The
atmosphere was like drinking in a friend’s kitchen or living room. I think that this is a living, breathing
example that can still be experienced today of beer drinking customs that were probably far more common
historically than they are in our modern age. Drinking beer, feasting, and talking together at a table in the
home of neighbors and/or relatives without distracting televisions, loud music, annoying waitresses, etc.,
all while, drinking beer that is brewed by the local braumeisters for the community connected the past
with the present. I was even fortunate on that one evening to sit at a table with the braumeister who had
been a Zoigl braumeister for 38 years, his son, his daughter, a few local friends, and even the town sheriff.
Incidentally I stayed out at the Zoigl stube that night until close to 3am when the son and daughter of the
braumeister kindly gave us a ride back to our hotel.
I also think that the activity of brewing itself is a community activity. This again can be seen in the
Zoigl town of Neuhaus. A fellow Zoigl beer lover from Ireland had this to say about his attendance at
a brew day in Neuhaus that he was invited to: “The people in Neuhaus really do know how to organise
a p*** up in a brewery and how! Unlike Eschawo, Neuhaus kommunbrauhaus is set up for hospitality,
with a really nice little room for visitors.” So here, we see that brewing itself is a social occasion where
the brewers interact with the locals and the rare traveler that is lucky enough to be invited to the occasion.
Over the last few years I have made a habit of organizing heathen brew days at my house once or twice
per year. Usually this happens once in the spring and sometimes once in the fall. Both home brewers and
just fellow heathens that want to hang out and socialize and drink good home brew are invited to attend. I
have found the camaraderie and good times at these events to be outstanding. I think we will see more of
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these in heathenry as our communities continue to grow and solidify. I feel that home brewing, and even
making a social event out of a day of home brewing, is participating in something that is a big part of our
heathen cultural heritage.
Another fantastic example of the community and cooperative aspect of brewing in Germany can be seen
every Autumn during the Bock beer release season. During the months of October, November, and into
December, many of the small local breweries of Upper Franconia work together to coordinate the timing
so that each brewery can have its own day to celebrate the release of its bock beer. This event is called
Bockbierantisch, and there is even a schedule posted so bock beer lovers will know what brewpub to be at
and what day and time to be there. Now, how cool would it be for a group of us heathen home brewers to
each brew a bock beer in the spring and have our own Bockbierantisch at our home on a rotation just like
they do in Oberfranken?
I have spent a lot of time experimenting with and brewing various German styles. I have brewed
seasonal bock beers, Helles lagers, Pilseners, Rauchbiers, and recently even a Zoigl beer using information
gathered from my aforementioned visit to the Oberpfalz region. I am now looking forward to learning
more about and brewing historical Scandinavian styles. We know from various sources that juniper berries
were used in Scandinavian brewing in lieu of hops. Let’s face it, they didn’t have hops readily available a
long time ago. So, they used juniper berries, among other things, as a preservative and to add flavor. One
example that survives even today is Gotlandsdricke ale from the Baltic island of Gotland. In his book
“Microbrewed Adventures,” The famous home brewing writer Charlie Papazian wrote a very nice article
about his visit to the island of Gotland and to a Farmhouse brewery run by an elderly gentleman named
Vello Noodapera. In it, he describes a beer brewed by Vello made with smoked malt, hops, and juniper
berries called Gotlandsdricke ale. According to Papazian, Gotlandsdricke brewing is widespread on the
island of Gotland and done mostly in small home/farm breweries. The late Michael Jackson (no not that
Michael Jackson) was known during his life as the “beer hunter” due to his extensive travel and research
worldwide regarding beer styles and local brewing culture. He wrote a very interesting short article about
the mountainous west of Norway where he discovered that many families keep their own supply of liquid
yeast for home brewing that get passed down from generation to generation. He also mentioned the use
of smoked malt and juniper berries.
A few years ago a fellow heathen brewer J. Talkington brought a home brewed example of a beer using
Juniper berries to East Coast Thing. I’m hoping to do the same this coming year, and in addition use
smoked malts to hopefully reproduce something similar to Gotlandsdricke. The experimentation never
ends and that is one of the beauties of being a heathen home brewer.
I’m going to end this article by providing some interesting links that readers can use as sources to
explore more about German and Scandinavian beer and other interesting tidbits.
1. First the article written by “The Beer Hunter” Michael Jackson about Norway: http://www.beerhunter.
com/documents/19133-000103.html
2. This is a very useful and interesting website listing all the breweries of Upper Franconia, Germany
(Oberfranken). This region has the highest density of breweries per capita than anywhere else in the world
(and it’s not even close!). http://www.beerhunter.com/documents/19133-000103.html
3. Historical beer researcher and blogger Ron Pattinson has a blog that is a treasure trove of information
regarding historical beer recipes, brewing logs, and other articles. http://barclayperkins.blogspot.com/
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4. The late John White of England wrote a very good travel article about Zoigland with lots of info and
links and his wife was kind enough to keep his website up in his memory as a reference for us beer lovers
to use. http://www.whitebeertravels.co.uk/zoigl.html
5. Website of the twin Zoigl towns of Windischeschenbach and Neuhaus. If you click through you can
find links to the various Zoigl Stubes in the two towns. http://www.zoiglbier.de/
6. It’s always nice to have a Zoigl calendar handy so you know where to go and when. http://www.
zoiglinfo.de/pdf/Zoiglkalender_Internet.pdf
Last but not least a shameless plus to the “Beer Gnome” blog of yours truly for those interested in reading
about and seeing pictures of my various beer travels and brewing adventures. http://the-beer-gnome.
blogspot.com/
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Some Brew Recipes
maibock
•
Mark Andersen
10 years Home Brewer
In the winter of 2006 I started brewing my annual Maibock beer to be served at our kindred’s May
Day festivities that we hold on the 1st weekend of May every year. Typically Maibock is a German style
strong lager beer (i.e. bock beer) that is brewed in the winter and lagered for 2-3 months to be served in
the springtime. Sometimes it is called Helles Bock by German breweries and not necessarily served only
in the spring time. You can also find Helles Bock on tap during autumn or winter. However, it probably
goes without saying, that if it is called Maibock it was brewed in the winter and served during springtime. Maibock is very much a malt forward beer with very subtle hops in the background. For those beer
drinkers that love a very smooth, malty, golden colored, easy to drink, yet robust beer then a well brewed
Maibock is a real treat.
In Germany a beer must have a minimum opening gravity before it can be labeled a bock. That number
is 1.066. The recipe below has an estimated starting gravity of around 1.068. Also, there are two things in
the brewing process that homebrewers normally don’t have to worry about with most homebrews.
1.Firstly and most importantly is the lagering process. It is very important that a bock beer undergo a
significant lagering period. I think at least 2 months is required and I tend to shoot for 3. The lagering process helps in giving the beer more clarity and smooths/rounds out the flavor. For example
the Wyeast Bavarian Lager yeast strain causes an unpleasant sulfuric character right after primary
fermentation. The long cold lagering period eliminates that. Now this may be a problem for some
homebrewers that lack a cellar and/or a lagering fridge. For those that really want to brew a bock
beer but lack the these things one can always make a hybrid and try using the California Lager Yeast
that is more tolerant of higher temperatures but even then you should at least be able to ferment and
condition the beer at no higher than around 65 degrees. The recipe below is done using Bavarian
Lager yeast and is thus fermented and lagered at more appropriate temperatures for the style. If you
want it to taste like the great Maibocks/Helles bocks of Germany you must lager the beer.
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2. Secondly one may want to consider employing a decoction mashing process on brew day. Now this
does assume that you will be doing an all grain batch in the first place. You can do an extract bock
beer but I really think this style as much any other really needs to be done all grain. This is because
the flavor of this beer is much more dependent on the flavor of the malt than any other. Thus any
flaws in the ingredients or the process are more likely to be obvious. You don’t have much hop flavor or dark and roasted grains to hide the flaws that might show up in a Maibock. Okay that being
said, a decoction mash is not required to make a bock beer. You can make a bock with well modified
malt grains and a much simpler single infusion mash. However, in my experience after experimenting with both processes, a decoction mash does increase the malty and robust flavor of a bock beer.
When in doubt I always recommend experimentation. Try one doing a single infusion mash and use
a decoction mash on the same exact recipe. See for yourself what version you like the best. In the
recipe below I will describe both processes.
Ingredients
Grain Bill
8 lbs German or Bohemian 2-row Pilsener malt.
4 lbs Munich Malt
8 oz Weyermann’s Cara Foam
8 oz Weyermann’s Cara Hell
Comments – the ratio of Munich malt to Pilsener malt can vary. I use the Cara Foam to help with head
retention in the beer and the Cara Hell to give the beer more body without darkening it too much.
Hops and other additives
2 oz Hersbrucker Hops - 60 minutes
1 oz Hersbrucker Hops - 30 minutes
.5 oz Hersbrucker Hops – 15 minutes
1 tsp Irish Moss – 15 minutes
I like to use Hersbrucker hops in this beer because of its very mild and pleasant flavor and aroma. I
think it’s a great style of hop to use in a malt forward German style beer such as this. This hop variety is
from the Hersbrucker region of Franconia, Germany. Other Germany noble hops such as Hallertau and
Tettnang are good substitutes.
Yeast
2 packages of Saflager W34/70 dried lager yeast or only 1 package if doing a yeast starter. This yeast
strain is from the Weihenstephan brewery in Bavaria and is extremely reliable and produces a very clean
lager beer. I’ve also had good results with Wyeast Bavarian Lager yeast and White Labs Bock Yeast.
Primary fermentation time is about 14 days. Primary fermentation temperature should be between 48-58
degrees.
Starting Gravity: 1.068
Final Gravity: 1.012-1.014
Óðrœrir 129
Decoction Mashing process
First of all if you are going to attempt the decoction mashing process I highly recommend you get a
copy of the book “New Brewing Lager Beer” by Gregory J. Noonan. It goes into much more detail about
the how’s and why’s than I do here.
1. Dough in the crushed malt by slowly mixing it with 24-28 ounces of cool water per pound of malt.
Let it sit for 15 minutes.
2. Bring at least 14 ounces of water per pound of malt to a boil and slowly mix it in with the doughed in
mash. Slowly mix it in until you reach about 105 degrees. If you have extra boiling water than save
it for later or toss it but don’t go above 105. Let the mash rest for about 20 minutes. This is the acid
rest. You can test it with PH strips. The idea is to get the PH level is between 5.2 to 5.8. My water at
home already is in this range but I still do a short acid rest to be sure. One this is done you’re ready
for decoction #1.
3. Pull the heaviest one third of the mash and put into a decoction kettle (i.e. any kettle big enough to
hold it). Even though you’re after the thick part of the mash some liquid mash is good to help keep
the grains from sticking to the kettle and makes it easier to stir. Very slowly bring the mash up to
a boil (stopping to let it rest between 150-158 degrees for 5-10 minutes on the way up) and boil for
5-10 minutes. Be very careful to stir it frequently to keep the grains from sticking and burning at the
bottom of the kettle. Once you get up to a boil this is not a problem but is when it is getting up to the
150-158 range.
4. Return the decoction to the mash tun and stir thoroughly. Temperature should be in the 118-128 degree range. Leave it there for a protein rest for 10-20 minutes then start decoction #2
5. Repeat the process in step #3 above except pull a higher proportion of the mash. I find that somewhere
between 40-50% is required to get the temperature for the next rest where it needs to be. Be prepared
to boil some water if you fall short or add cold water in the unlikely event you come out too high.
6.Return decoction to mash tun and mix thoroughly. You want the temperature here to be between 150155 degrees (the higher the maltier). Leave it there for Saccharification/Dextrinization rest for around
15-30 minutes before starting decoction #3.
7. Lauter decoction. Pull off 40-50 percent of the thinnest (i.e. liquid portion) of the mash. You will
probably have to pull some of the thick stuff to get to 40-50 percent. Bring it right to a boil and boil
for 5 minutes. Be careful of boil over occurring.
8. Return for final rest (hopefully at 170 degrees) for 5 minutes.
9. While in the final rest heat up sparge water to 170-175 degrees. I will usually heat up more sparge
water than I need just in case (5-7 gallons). Sparge as slow as you can to fill kettle with 6.5 – 7 gallons of wort.
Óðrœrir 130
Single Infusion Mash
1.Heat water up to about 170 degrees and slowly mix in with the grains. I usually heat up 1.5 quarts
per pound of malt and mix it in until I get to the temperature that I want. Ideally 153-155 degrees.
Let it sit for about a 1 hour Saccharification/Dextrinization rest.
2. Follow step #9 above.
As you can see the single infusion mash is much easier.
Boil and Chill and Pitch Yeast
I bring the wort to a boil and plan on about a 75 minute boil altogether. With 60 minutes left add your
first hops. See the hops ingredient above for the stages to add the hops at. Once the boil is done, chill it
and pitch the yeast and start primary fermentation at 48-58 degrees.
Lagering
After racking the beer into a secondary fermentation carboy, place the carboy into your lagering fridge
and set the temperature of 33-39 degrees and patiently let it lager for 2-3 months before bottling or kegging.
Enjoy!
Óðrœrir 131
Oakey Smokey Porter
•
Jon Talkington
Dogfish Head Craft Brewery,
16 year Home Brewer & Mead Maker
Oaky Smokey Porter is my annual Yule feast beer and is meant to be shared amongst friends and
kindred members. When I created the beer I was looking for a dark, roasty, smokey base beer with the
citrusy and piney flavors of juniper. To that end, I chose to combine Finnish Sahti, Gotlandsdricka, and
Baltic Porter. Finnish Sahti is a traditional beer brewed with smoked malt and juniper. At one time they
lined the mash tun with juniper branches, which acted as a filter bed when running off the wort. They also
used bread yeast to ferment the beer. Gotlandsdricka is a juniper beer similar to Sahti but they use birch
smoked malt and age it in oak barrels. Baltic Porter is a beer reminiscent of an English brown porter but
with higher alcohol content and complex, multi-layered flavor. They can also be referred to as Imperial
Porters and heavily roasted versions as Imperial Stouts.
My hybrid of the three, Oaky Smokey Porter, uses Scottish peat smoked malt, juniper berries, a variety
of pale and dark malts, as well as buckwheat honey and then aged with French oak chips. It is an opaque,
deep black with a tan creamy head that laces the glass. The aroma is reminiscent of a campfire – smokey
with hints of pine and citrus from the juniper and hops. The beer has a thick mouth feel with a smooth
finish, tasting slightly smokey, malty, with the flavors of juniper subtly lingering on your tongue. The oakaging smooths the beer out and adds a subtle vanilla character.
Ingredients
Mash
8 lbs American 2-Row Pale Malt
2 lbs Scottish Peat Smoked Malt
1 lb Belgian Special-B Malt
8 oz Chocolate Malt
8 oz Black Patent Malt
8 oz Roasted Barley
Boil
1 oz Palisades Pellet Hops
0.5 oz Palisades Pellet Hops
0.25 oz Palisades Pellet Hops
1 oz Crushed Juniper berries
1 tsp Irish Moss
2 lbs Buckwheat Honey
Fermentation
11 grams Danstar Windsor Ale Yeast
Óðrœrir 132
Secondary
2 oz French Oak Chips
Starting Gravity: 1.080
Final Gravity: 1.020
Process
1. Heat 4 gallons of water to 165° F. Add grain and mash at 150-152° F for 1 hour.
2. Mash out for 10 minutes at 168° F.
3. Sparge slowly and collect 6 gallons of wort.
4. Bring to a boil and start your time.
5. Add 1 oz of Palisades, boil 60 minutes.
6. At 15 minutes left add the 0.5 oz Palisades, Juniper berries, and Irish Moss.
7. At 5 minutes left add the 0.25 oz Palisades.
8. When the boil is over add the 2 lbs Buckwheat honey. Turn off the heat.
9. Chill wort and transfer to your fermenter, pitch the 11 grams Danstar Windsor Ale Yeast.
10. Ferment 8 - 10 days, then rack to secondary and age on 2 oz French Oak chips for one month.
11. Prime and bottle or keg.
Óðrœrir 133
Perkunas (Lithuanian Style Mead)
•
Jon Talkington
Dogfish Head Craft Brewery,
16 year Home Brewer & Mead Maker
Perkunas is my take on Lithuanian style mead or ‘Midus’. Traditionally these meads were flavored with
hops, juniper berries, spices, fruit juices such as blueberry or black currant, and were fermented with beer/
ale yeast instead of wine yeast. Meaderies in Lithuania still use these ingredients to make this unique style
of mead. I based this recipe on traditional Lithuanian and Russian recipes I read about while researching
this style of mead.
In many traditional mead recipes the honey is boiled in water, this was a practice done in the ‘old days’.
While this makes for clearer mead by coagulating the proteins in the honey, this process destroys the flavor
and aromatic properties of the honey. By not boiling and using modern techniques and processes you will
have a faster fermentation and quality mead.
I wanted this mead to be sweet, allowing the rich flavors of the buckwheat and wildflower honey to
shine through. The ingredients all come together nicely and make for very complex mead. The blueberries
give the mead a really nice color and subtle fruitiness. Aging on oak chips really mellows the mead giving it a ‘barrel aged’ character. I let it age one year in the bottle which really allowed the flavors to meld.
In fermentation bucket
10 lbs Buckwheat Honey
10 lbs Wildflower Honey
3 lbs Wild Blueberries
1 oz Crushed Juniper Berries
1 oz Hallertauer Leaf Hops
1 Tbsp Ginger Powder
1 Orange – Zest & Juice
Fermentation
22 grams Safbrew T-58 Dry Ale Yeast
5 grams Fermaid-K Yeast Nutrient
5 grams DAP Yeast Nutrient
Secondary
2 oz French Oak Chips
Starting Gravity: 1.145
Final Gravity: 1.040
Óðrœrir 134
Process
1. Mix honey and ginger into 1 gallon warm water, pour into a fermentation bucket, and then add cold
water to top to 5 gallons.
2. Put juniper, hops, orange zest, and crushed blueberries into a mesh bag. This will make racking
easier.
3. Rehydrate yeast warm water, aerate must, and then pitch yeast.
4. Fermentation should be kept around 68 – 70° F.
5. When fermentation begins add the Fermaid-K, when the gravity reaches 1.097 add the DAP.
6. Allow the mead to ferment for 10-14 days, rack into a secondary fermenter – a clean glass carboy and
age on oak for a month, and then rack into another carboy.
7. When clear, rack off of the sediment which usually takes 3-6 months. A fining agent may be added to
speed up the clearing process. Bottle when clear and stable. Cork in wine bottles for long-term aging.
Living Lore
Skald Craft
A Practical Guide to Understanding and
Writing Poetry in the Old Norse Meters
•
By Jon Cyr
There have been many approaches to the study of Old Norse Poetry. Modern academia has spent an
exhaustive amount of effort in identifying metrical patterns and trends within the lines of the voluminous
collected works. They have asserted sometimes arguable theories varying from simple to complex and
from mundane to fantastic. However (un)interesting the results may be, the decades of scholarship have
failed to contribute to the most important body of listeners: the audience of common would-be poets and
budding artisans who are ripe with a genuine and fervent love of Old Norse culture. The direction of this
paper will be one of modern practical application so that listeners will be able to apply the concepts learned
to their personal or professional poetic endeavors, whether they are religious, magical or purely artistic
in nature. Other practical guides to writing poetry in the Old Norse meters do exist. Many however are
woefully incomplete and the works of up-and-coming skalds have suffered. Rather than point out the
errors of modern authors, this article can equip the reader with the ability to identify correctly conforming
poetry that adheres to the restrictions of each meter.
Old Norse Poetry: Eddic and Skaldic
Old Norse poetry is in modern times classified in two distinct groups: Eddic and Skaldic poetry. The term
‘Eddic’ has been imposed on a group of poems composed in different meter, but mainly about the same
subject matter: Old Norse mythology and legendry. The term itself is borrowed from Snorri Sturluson’s
book on Old Norse mythology from 1220 called Edda. Eddic poetry comprises several metrical forms,
three of which are galdralag, ljoðháttr and fornyrðislag. Skaldic poetry is a specifically Scandinavian
metrical form that does not seem to have any counterparts outside Scandinavia in general and the WestNordic area in particular. The most prominent meter of Skaldic poetry is commonly called dróttkvætt and
this poetic form is mostly known for its complex circumlocutions called kenningar and heiti.1
Where Eddic poetry seems to have roots in a common Germanic form of poetry about gods and heroes,
Skaldic poetry seems to have developed during the Viking Age to serve as homage for contemporary kings.
The metrical forms that are identifiable as “Eddic” must have been established for some time in a common
Germanic heritage and Skaldic poetry likely sprung out of these older, simpler forms of alliteration. In
1 - Jesch, Judith, Ed. Meleungracht Sørensen, Preben: Kapitler af Nordens litteratur i oldtid og middelalder, Aarhus Universitetsforlag,
2006.
Óðrœrir 136
many ways we may trace the evolutionary path that Old Norse poetry has taken, which allows us to better
understand its varied forms.
The Evolution of Old Norse Poetry
There are many examples of ‘pre-poetics’ in history to choose from, beginning with the Roman historian
Tacitus in the 2nd century. Although no alliterative poetry from this period has been discovered, he makes
brief mention of the ancient oral traditions practiced by all pre-literate Germanic peoples and the songs
sung regarding the heroes of that day.2
In the 4th Century, the well known Golden Horns of Gallehus, discovered in Denmark bore this runic
inscription:
Ek hlewagastir holtijar / horna tawidô
I, Hlewagastir Hoti’s son, the horn made.
Although the composition of this verse must be examined later, is has been pointed out by scholars that
it contains basic alliteration, and I personally believe it may demonstrate the foundational components of
the Eddic meter fornýrðislag and thus all Old Norse alliterative poetry to follow.3
Image shows a museum replica of the Horns of Gallehus and its runic inscription made from drawings of the now lost horns
In the 5th Century, the Kjolevik Stone bares the following inscription which has also been observed
2 - Tacitus, Cornelius Works of Cornelius Tacitus. Includes Agricola, The Annals, A Dialogue Concerning Oratory, Germania and The
Hisotories, MobileReferences 2009
3 - Schulte, Michael “Early Runic ‘metrical’ inscriptions-How metrical are they?” In Versatility in Versification Multidisciplinary Approaches to Metrics Vol 74 of Berkeley Insights in Linguistics and Semiotics. Dewey, Tonya Kim/Frog (Ed). New York, 2009
Óðrœrir 137
to be alliterative, and which may demonstrate an early version of what will become the Eddic meter of
ljóðháttr [3].
hadulaikaR ek hagustadaR hlaiwido magu minimo (battler dancer)
(I the stubborn one)
(buried son of mine)4
The Eggjum Stone, dating from the 7th to 8th century, perhaps demonstrates what may be the earliest
example of galdralag.
Hverr of kom Heráss
á hí á land gotna?
Fiskr ór fjanda vim svimandi, fogl á fjanda lið galand (To whom comes the War-Ás)
(High to land of men)
(A fish from enemies swimming,)
(A bird to enemies screaming.)5
Eddic Poetry is most readily accessed by the modern reader in the publication entitled, Poetic Edda.
Once thought to be the collections of Saemund the Learned, it is a compilation of mythological and heroic
poetry, roughly half of which is found in the manuscript Codex Regius (GKS 2365 4to). The meters represented consist of fornýrðislag, málaháttr, and ljóðháttr. The Lay of Hárbath follows no true meter but
still uses stanzic form, general alliteration and caesura. The use of the rare galdralag, also makes several
powerful appearances.6
Examples of Skaldic poetry can likewise be found from many sources but none as thorough and comprehensive as those rendered in Háttatal found in Edda by Snorri Sturluson.7 Dróttkvætt acts as a base or
template for many of the other Skaldic meters have clearly evolved from it. Surely dróttkvætt is to Skaldic
poetry as fornýrðislag is to Eddic poetry.
Rímur as it was practiced from the 14th century until today is the next developmental step in Old Norse
as it was practiced in Iceland. It is beyond the scope of this paper to give it more than passing mention.
The modern Asatruar wishes to write in the Old Norse meters for reasons of artistic, religious or magical
practice. A common misunderstanding regarding Old Norse poetry is that it cannot be written in English.
Although the physical differences between Old Norse and English do present some difficulties, nothing
could be further from the truth. JRR Tolkien wrote a rendition of the Sigurd lays called The Legend of
Sigurd and Gudrún, with each line written in fornýrðislag.8 It is nearly impossible to convert an Old
Norse poem into English and retain its meter – something must be lost in translation. Present day skalds
may write both Eddic and Skaldic poetry in English and any flaws may be kept so minimal that it will still
compare soundly to the licenses taken by skalds of the Viking age as many historical examples contain
intentional imperfection.
Components of Old Norse Poetry
4 - Schulte, Michael “Early Runic ‘metrical’ inscriptions-How metrical are they?” In Versatility in Versification Multidisciplinary Approaches to Metrics Vol 74 of Berkeley Insights in Linguistics and Semiotics. Dewey, Tonya Kim/Frog (Ed). New York, 2009
5 - http://www.runenprojekt.uni-kiel.de/abfragen/standard/deutung2_eng.asp?findno=380&ort=Eggja&objekt=runsten,%20gnejs
6 - Larrington, Carolyne. (Trans.). (1996). The Poetic Edda. Oxford World’s Classics. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
7 - Byock, Jesse (Trans.) (2006). The Prose Edda. Penguin Classics.See also Sturluson, Snorri, Faulkes, Anthony. Edda. Everymans Library, 1995
8 - Tolkein, JRR. The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún., HarperCollins Houghton Mifflin Harcourt., 2009
Óðrœrir 138
There are many types of poetry and further classifications to describe their general character or purpose
were deemed to define them in ways beyond their structure or form. These types may manifest themselves
in any meter of the age and are not to be confused as meters themselves.
• Drápa: formally constructed poems, often in gnomic style and with refrains.
• Flokkr: less formal poem, usually short.
• Lausavísur: an impromptu verse spoken “off-the-cuff ”. Saga material reports even the complex meters
such as Dróttkvætt could be spoken by gifted skalds.
• Niðvísur: scathings or insulting poems.
• Mansöngr: erotic love poems, considered illegal on the grounds that it can entrap or ensnare women,
thus defaming them.
Heiti: A single word or name used to describe a more common name, place or thing. They were archaic
words in the sense that they were archaic even to the skalds of the Viking age. They comprise a list of
‘poetic words’ or terms that listeners may or may not have readily known. The more poetry one studied,
the more it could be understood and appreciated. Here are just a few examples of heiti below:
Common Name Heiti
FreyjaSýr, Mardoll
ThorAtli
ramHeimdalli
oxHlid
OdinHar
Kennings: These are phrases that point to a more common name, place or thing. They may reference a
commonly known mythological story or poem.
Common Name Kenning
FreySuttung’s Slayer
head
burden of the neck
kingring giver
sea
whale ways
gold
barrow flame
Kennings may be further complicated by forming kennings within kennings. The above examples are
considered first degree kennings. Here is a second degree kenning:
Common Name Second Degree Kenning
Hugin
longship
Gullinbursti
Hanged-Tyr’s First Raven (Odin’s First Raven)
serpent of the abode of Nine Daughters (Serpent of the Sea)
Frey’s shield-shaking mount (Frey’s battle mount)
Kennings may be confounded to the fifth degree, Snorri describes anything more than this is
“unprofessional.” For fun, here is a question in the form of a kenning. What is the “twig’s-bane in the
barrow sorrow-drops Goddess’s made-of-maggot-wights’ payment.” The answer is: Brisingamen!
According to Snorri, heiti and kennings expand the vocabulary resources, and displays artistic and
Óðrœrir 139
verbal skill. This is to say, a knowledgeable author has more choices of words to use in the content while
still keeping the rules of the meter.
Structural Attributes
Foot and Caesura (these are modern terms): as it applies to Old Norse poetry, a basic unit of rhythm,
made up of a fixed number of syllables a line (= foot) of completed meaning with relative tense, separated
by a pause (caesura) allowing its sense to be made clear and producing a “stately effect”. Snorri’s primer
addresses this characteristic of form in terms of “syllables and staves per line” and whether or not the
syllables create a uniform whole of the stanza.
Troche (a modern term not used by Snorri): it is the characteristic of the best lines to be ending each
with an unstressed syllable. Given the natural differences between English and Old Icelandic, this rule is
often the most difficult to observe.
Alliteration: As it applies to ON poetry, alliteration occurs when the same sound appears at the
beginning of stressed syllables (stafir). Consonant blends alliterate as long as their initial sound is the
same (Hval, Hrafn, Hler, etc.) with the exception of sk, sp and st which only alliterate with themselves.
All vowels sounds alliterate with each other vowel sound as well as with the soft ‘y’ sound expressed in
Old Norse as a ‘j’.
Staves (ON Stafir): These are the stressed syllables within the poetic lines that must alliterate in sound
in order to “tie” the verse together as a whole. Reminder: a stressed syllable may not always be the first
sound in a word. For example, ‘truth’ and ‘taking’ both alliterate with the ‘t’ sound, but ‘truth’ does not
alliterate with words such as ‘today’ or ‘tomorrow’. In the later examples, the stresses fall on the second
syllable of the word rather than the initial sound.
Main-stave (hofuðstafr): This is the stressed syllable that dictates the alliterating sound for the odd
line that precedes it. This is always the first syllable in the even line. The lines are usually ‘coupled’ in
this manner. Therefore, line 1 will contain staves that must alliterate with the main-stave which is the first
stave in line 2. Line three must alliterate in the main-stave of line 4, line 5 is governed by line 6, etc.
Rhyming: Strictly speaking, Eddic poetry does not contain rhymes. The Skaldic meters derived from
dróttkvætt contained ‘internal’ rhymes rather than end-of-word rhymes which the old skalds considered
inferior. An example of an internal ‘half-rhyme’ called a skothending is ‘skald and colder’. The consonant
sounds are the same but the vowel sound is differing. An example of a full rhyme called an aðalhending
would be ‘talk and stalking.’ The same vowel and consonant sounds appear in each word. In both
examples, the sounds do not need to appear at the end of the word. Egil Skallagrimsson (ca. 910 – 990)
presents the first historical example of the use of ending rhymes in Old Norse poetry. However, he did not
use it without first adhering to the rules of the meter in which he was writing. Therefore, the end rhymes
were added to the traditional form, not replacing it creating an additional challenge for the author, not an
easier one.
Alliteration of staves, internal rhyming and a fixed number of syllables, also helped preserve the content
of Old Norse poetry. It would not be much of a challenge for someone to ‘Christianize’ these verses below:
Thor our Protector,
Hammers the troll,
Óðrœrir 140
This friend of man,
We wish to extol.
This verse is, of course, not in alliterative form: it simply contains end rhymes only. The subject and
verbs are easily changed without disruption to the ending rhyme. The words affected by the rules of the
form, by happenstance come at the end of each line and are seldom the main subject of the verse.
Thor the thewful,
He thwarted the Etin.
Loki’s lead man,
Laughed at his foes.
This verse is very difficult to Christianize without a total re-write. On a similar note, if the poetic form
before you uses a set number of lines, stanzas or syllables, it is far more difficult for the literary vandal to
make an addition to the poem. Furthermore, the alliteration most often falls on the stronger more integral
words of a line, such as the subject and the verb denoting the subject’s primary action. Thus the subject
and its action are the hardest things to alter. When someone attempted to add, distort or subtract from an
old poem, it usually can be identified by scholars who understand the old meters.
The Eddic Meters:
Fornyrðislag – “words of the past made”
• Formed of symmetrical stanzas of 8 lines.
• Each line contains two stressed staves, (I will bold stressed syllables).
• Main stave is the first stave in the even lines, (main stave is italic).
• At least one stave in the odd line must alliterate with the main stave.
• May have fixed or without fixed number of syllables but usually has four syllables in each line.
Here’s a short poem in fornyrðislag honoring a great Icelandic sheep sire, Ottar. His curling crowns
were fashioned into beautiful drinking horns.
I’ll toast my kin,
And call the names,
Of Ancestors gone,
To All-father’s halls.
The mead so sweet,
The memory drink,
In twisted horns,
Of hallowed ram.
Now look at the inscription from the Golden Horn of Gallehus examined earlier:
ek hlewagastir holtijar
horna tawidô
Malaháttr – “Speech–meter”
• Like fornyrðislag except:
Óðrœrir 141
• Has a regulated number of syllables in each line, usually five.
I will skip any examples of malaháttr because its difference to fornyrðislag is so minor that to hear it
spoken in English seldom produces a different effect – at least to our modern ears.
Ljoðháttr – “Song-meter”
• First line contains two stressed staves. (I will bold stressed syllables).
• Main stave is the first stave in the second line. (main stave is italic).
• The third line contains three staves, two of which must alliterate.
• The above format is repeated to make a stanza of 6 lines.
These four stanzas of ljoðháttr are regarding the eating of the heart of a slaughtered ram from a flock of
Icelandic sheep we used to keep at the farm.
While eating the heart,
Of a healthy strong ram,
I wonder on words of legend.
The gallant saga,
Of Sigurd Volsung,
Fafnir’s fearless slayer.
He merely touched,
The tip of his finger,
His tongue tasted the magic.
He gained the main,
Of the mighty wyrm,
Learned cant of common birds.
I doubt the skull,
Of this skald will thicken,
My strength will stay as before.
The fence posts of cedar,
Are safe from breaking,
Horns won’t grow from my head.
Could some small gift,
Be given to me,
Be passed from beast to person?
Perhaps he’d impart
That prudent gaze,
Those watchful amber eyes.
"Sigurd Slaying the Dragon" by Christine Foltzer
The Kjolevik Stone mentioned earlier can be read in the same manner. By knowing the stressed
placement within the poem, the Old Norse verse can be read more authoritatively and with additional
feeling, despite the orator’s lack of understanding.
hadulaikaR ek hagustadaR Óðrœrir 142
hlaiwido magu minimo Galdralag – “Galdr or incantation – meter”
• An extra line or lines added to a stanza of another form, usually ljoðhattr.
• The added lines change in word slowly from line to line, transitioning the meaning.
Here is a quick prayerful stanza of galdralag I wrote after my wife was involved in a car accident. It is
both to show thanks for Thorr’s protection as well as including the 4th and 8th lines which are transformed
lines 3 and 7 respectively. The transformed or ‘magical line’ is similar to the one preceding it yet it has
added a statement for a slightly shaped future. Examples of galdralag and how it was used can be found
in Havamal and Skírnismal, yet all of the books regarding magical practices of the Old Norse skip an
examination of galdralag and instead focus on ceremonial magic or other traditions.
Help from the hands,
Of hallowed Dis,
Heal the bruise on bone,
Make whole the bruise on bone.
Give thanks that she,
By Thor was helped,
Wish the soreness away,
Wend the soreness away,
Help from the hands,
Of hallowed Dis,
Heal the bruise on bone,
Make whole the bruise on bone. (Transition from ‘heal’ to ‘make whole’)
Give thanks that she,
By Thor was helped,
Wish the soreness away,
Wend the soreness away. (Transformation from ‘wishing’ to ‘wending’
away pain)
Skaldic Meters:
Dróttkvætt – “Noble-speech.”
• Formed of symmetrical stanzas of 8 lines.
• Each line contains three stressed staves, (I will bold stressed syllables).
• Main stave is the first stave in the even lines, (main stave is italic).
• At least two staves in the odd line must alliterate with the main stave, (I will underline alliterations).
• The last stave in the odd line must precede an unstressed syllable, (I often don’t keep this rule - it
isn’t kind to English and is much easier to stick to when writing in ON).
• Fixed number of syllables in each line, usually 6 – as in this case (the number of syllables will follow each line).
• Odd lines must contain two skothending syllables (half-rhymes), one of which must come at the end
of the line. Skothendingar contain a different vowel sound but same ending consonant sounds. (I
Óðrœrir 143
colored skothendingar in red).
• Even lines must contain two aðalhending syllables (full-rhymes), one of which must come at the end
of the line. Aðalhendingar contain the same vowel sound and the same ending consonant sound. (Aðalhendingar are in blue). These four stanzas of dróttkvætt were written to honor Úllr and is entitled “Lakeside Hunter.” Here is
normal textual version first, the breakdown will follow:
The Ás is crossing ice,
Úllr from the North comes forth,
On blades of bone he slides,
Borne through hindering winds.
On frozen firth he rises,
The forest greets their meeting.
He wears the wild caught furs,
Woolens hold back the cold.
Staring from stand of firs,
A stag in blowing snow.
His light-brown colored coat
Crests shine tawny from dawn.
Lashings light on his feet.
On laced frames hunter braces He bends the yew wood bound.
The bow kept taught held low.
Raising, sighting, sizing,
Seeking the bone of his cheek.
Squinting eye scopes the point.
And squares to horse tail hair
The gust from grasp released,
The grip of fletch bound tip,
Wending it splits the wind,
Whispers in lake air crisp.
Feathered tail of felling,
Firmly sets biting wýrm.
Pierced by painful arrow,
His prize from hiding rises.
Bounding full he soon finds,
Faltering hoof steps halt.
Úllr the Hunter then hailed,
The hart from forest shore.
The Ás is crossing ice, (6) – skothending
Úllr from the North comes forth, (6) – aðalhending
Óðrœrir 144
On blades of bone he slides, (6) – skothending
Borne through hindering winds. (6) – aðalhending
On frozen firth he rises, (7) – skothending
The forest greets their meeting. (7) – aðalhending
He wears the wild caught furs, (6) – skothending
Woolens hold back the cold. (6) – aðalhending (don’t be tempted to stress
‘back’ it ruins the hold - cold rhyme)
Staring from stand of firs, (6) – skothending
A stag in blowing snow. (6) – aðalhending
His light-brown colored coat (6) – skothending
Crests shine tawny from dawn. (6) – aðalhending
Lashings light on his feet. (6) – skothending
On laced frames hunter braces (7) – aðalhending
He bends the yew wood bound. (6) – skothending
The bow kept taught held low. (6) – aðalhending
Raising, sighting, sizing, (6) – skothending
Seeking the bone of his cheek. (7) – aðalhending
Squinting eye scopes the point. (6) – skothending And squares to horse tail hair (6) – aðalhending
The gust from grasp released, (6) – skothending
The grip of fletch bound tip, (6) – aðalhending
Wending it splits the wind, (6) – skothending
Whispers in lake air crisp. (6) – aðalhending
Feathered tail of felling, (6) – skothending
Firmly sets biting wýrm. (6) – aðalhending
Pierced by painful arrow, (6) – skothending
His prize from hiding rises. (7) – aðalhending
Bounding full he soon finds, (6) – skothending
Faltering hoof steps halt. (6) – aðalhending
Úllr the Hunter then hailed, (6) – skothending
The hart from forest shore. (6) – aðalhending
These next two stanzas of dróttkvætt are for Thorr. This poem was inspired by all of the remarkable
photos of the volcanic eruptions in Iceland’s Eyjafjalajökull.
Jökull á Eyjafjöll,
The island-mountain riled.
Storm-God’s ire is stirring,
Stories of old retold.
Falls merciless Mjölnir,
On molten glowing flow.
Shuttering sky is shattered,
Shaking glacier quaking.
Óðrœrir 145
Wild the blaze is rising,
With whirling brimstones hurled.
Ashes searing and soaring,
The cinders blown by winds.
Lashing out rage unleashed,
Lightning the storm-cloud brightens.
Behold the havoc he wields,
Hlórithi whose name is Thorr!
Jökull á Eyjafjöll, - 6 – skothending
The island-mountain riled. - 6 – aðalhending
Storm-God’s ire is stirring, - 6 – skothending
Stories of old retold. - 6 – aðalhending
Falls merciless Mjölnir - 6 – skothending
On molten glowing flow. - 6 – aðalhending
Shuttering sky is shattered - 7 – skothending
Shaking glacier quaking - 6 – aðalhending
Wild the blaze is rising - 6 – skothending
With whirling brimstones hurled. - 6 – aðalhending
Ashes searing and soaring - 7 – skothending
The cinders blown by winds - 6 – aðalhending
Lashing out rage unleashed - 6 – skothending
Lightning the storm-cloud brightens. - 7 – aðalhending
Behold the havoc he wields - 7 – skothending
Hlórithi whose name is Thorr! - 7 – aðalhending
Thríhenda – “Thrice rhymed.”
• Formed of symmetrical stanzas of 8 lines.
• Each line contains three stressed staves, (I will bold stressed syllables).
• Main stave is the first stave in the even lines, (main stave is italic).
• At least two staves in the odd line must alliterate with the main stave, (I will underline alliterations).
• Th
e last stave in the odd line must precede an unstressed syllable (difficult, see the description in
dróttkvætt).
•F
ixed number of syllables in each line - though seldom conformed to. Paired lines must contain a
balance when read as in all stanzic poetry. •O
dd lines must contain two skothending syllables (half-rhymes), one of which must come at the end
of the line. Skothendingar contain a different vowel sound but same ending consonant sounds. (I
colored skothendingar in red).
•E
ven lines must contain three aðalhending syllables (full-rhymes), one of which must come at the
end of the line. Aðalhendingar contain the same vowel sound and the same ending consonant
sound. (Aðalhendingar are in blue). Óðrœrir 146
This poem in Thríhenda is about the fabled “Raven Banner” which guaranteed victory to the army it
flew before, yet death to its bearer.
This Spirit was spun in linen,
Spearmen cheer as it nears them.
Paying severely to bear it,
Praying that it stays high and raised,
Moved were the skalds of old,
By a man who ran for the banner,
Grandiosely held and shield-less,
Gripped lest it dip or slip.
Marching with host abreast,
Boldly holding on shoulder,
Sig-Tyr’s symbol of doom,
Soaring before the warriors.
Wind in Grimnir’s standard,
Grave is the Raven’s waving.
First baleful flit and flutter,
Then flight off white field bright.
This Spirit was spun in linen, -8– skothending
Spearmen cheer as it nears them. -7 - aðalhending
Paying severely to bear it, -8– skothending
Praying that it stays high and raised, -8 - aðalhending
Moved were the skalds of old, -6– skothending
By a man who ran for the banner, -8 - aðalhending
Grandiosely held and shield-less, -8– skothending
Gripped lest it dip or slip. -6 - aðalhending
Marching with host abreast, -6– skothending
Boldly holding on shoulder,
-7 - aðalhending
Sig-Tyr’s symbol of doom, -6– skothending
Soaring before the warriors.
-7 - aðalhending
Wind in Grimnir’s standard, -6– skothending
Grave is the Raven’s waving. -7 - aðalhending
First baleful flit and flutter, -7 – skothending
Then flight off white field bright. -6 - aðalhending
Skjálfhenda – “Shivering rhymes”
• Formed of symmetrical stanzas of 8 lines.
• Each line contains three stressed staves, (I will bold stressed syllables).
• Main stave is the first stave in the even lines, (main stave is italic).
• At least two staves in the odd line must alliterate with the main stave, and the alliterating sounds in a
line must only be separated by one syllable (I will underline alliterations).
• The last stave in the odd line must precede an unstressed syllable.
Óðrœrir 147
• Fixed number (6) syllables in each line. • The first and fifth in a stanza which must have two skothending syllables (half-rhymes), one of
which must come at the end of the line. Skothendingar contain a different vowel sound but same
ending consonant sounds. (I colored skothendingar in red).
• The remaining lines must each contain two aðalhending syllables (full-rhymes), one of which must
come at the end of the line. Aðalhendingar contain the same vowel sound and the same ending consonant sound. (Aðalhendingar are in blue). This poem in skjálfhenda was prompted from a discussion on the afterlife with kin. I composed it
afterword with a heavy mind while working through a cold night on the late shift. How fitting this meter
is: Skjálfhenda – “Shivering rhymes.” Snorri tells us this meter was invented by Thorvald Veili after being
shipwrecked on an outlying skerry in the cold ocean. It is similar to dróttkvætt in many regards.
Power from Fylgja flows,
From this river I come.
Strong and striving long,
Stream flows forth and forward.
To Skald three bairns were born,
Bright and shinning these lights.
Pray to Dísir daily,
Deem their future gleaming.
Power from Fylgja flows, (6 syllables)
From this river I come. (6 syllables)
Strong and striving long, (6 syllables)
Stream flows forth and forward. (6 syllables)
To Skald three bairns were born, (6 syllables)
Bright and shinning these lights. (6 syllables)
Pray to Disir daily, (6 syllables)
Deem their future gleaming. (6 syllables)
There are of course more types of Skaldic meters, many of which are not expanded forms of dróttkvætt.
Some are made from Eddic forms with controls and rules to the content. For example, Greppamini may be
a stanza of fornýrðislag with the first four lines asking questions that result in the last four lines producing
the answer. Refhvörf or ‘fox-turns’ is a poem of any meter where each line contains two subjects that are
in opposition to each other such as shown in the brief example below:
The chaser found quarry, (chaser is the opposite of quarry)
And conquered defenses. (conquered is opposite of defense)
Conclusion
The strict metrical and compositional rules and the prolific use of heiti and kennings truly make Old
Norse poetry a challenge to both writers and listeners. Skalds are often surprised, though pleased, by the
end results of their work. Readers are familiar with the “word leading to word” passage in the Havamal. When writing in Drottkvætt, the skald is in constant struggle to make things fit, like the boy trying to plug
Óðrœrir 148
all of the leaks in the dam. As he fixes one, another problem soon presents itself. For example, you may
correct one word to make it ‹half-rhyme› only to discover you are now in violation of an alliteration rule. Several hours later, one might find a complete stanza of conforming lines. The meaning however has
completely changed from the skald’s original intent or idea. The process is emboldening and humbling
at the same time. A layer of words isn›t just followed by more words; they shape the words to be. By
attempting to convey stories about our eldest ancestors in skaldic meter, we can catch a glimpse of how
inner pathways reveal the story along with us. Words map out the tale for us – using the contours of our
being. This is perhaps the true great origin of our holy myths. Óðrœrir 149
POETRY
Ottar’s Tribute
•
By Jon Cyr
Fornyrðislag
This poem was presented to Laerad Kindred by Jon Cyr along with the great Iclelandic sheep that sired
his flock. The sheep was sacrificed in blót and this poem was dedicated to him. His horns were fashioned
into drinking horns that are used only for ceremony purpose.
Curling and wide,
His crown of power,
Guarded in wool,
The wide muscled chest.
Holding his head,
Both high and proud,
A noble beast,
Now borne away.
The one dethroned,
Though worthy still,
The guardian strong,
Gone to the knife.
I’ll miss those eyes,
Always watching,
Bright golden orbs,
Brilliantly staring.
The coveted locks,
By crafters wanted,
His coat of warmth, The weavers’ desire.
Deep bellied voice,
Valiant and pure,
No longer the song,
Sung to his ewes.
I cannot conceive,
Or call to mind,
A better way,
This one to thank.
Gods and Goddess,
Gifted with feast,
A tribute to Ottar,
To honor the lord.
Evergreen sprig,
Dipped into the bowl,
His regal blood,
Around the horg.
On God-staves flecked, And gathered folk,
Luck you will bring,
Lending us strength.
I’ll toast my kin,
And call the names,
Of Ancestors gone,
To All-father’s halls.
The mead so sweet,
The memory drink,
In twisted horns,
Of hallowed ram.
Óðrœrir 150
Tiwaz
Mannaz
•
•
By Jill Evans
By Jill Evans
Dróttkvœtt
Between Earth
And Asgard
Philosophy
And religion
Between science
And sorcery
I find Self
And solace.
Dedicated to my friends and relatives who have
served or are serving in the Armed Forces.
For seldom seen soldiers
Sacrifice felt back home.
Twice Tiwaz carved for you.
Tyr I call twice for all.
Young men battled Jotuns
Yesterday flew away.
Ready today’s rally
Roar victoriously
Community
And countrymen
Prosperity
Or poverty
Whether fit
Or feeble
This is Midgard.
We are Mannaz.
Towheaded tot waiting
Tiny lad misses dad
A year her heart’s yearning
Youthful bride cries with pride
Rich are those he reaches
Roaming no more from home.
Safe, the sounds have ended
Son, the battle is won.
Art by Rachel Jacob
Óðrœrir 151
The Wild Hunt
•
By Matt Walker
When the days have waned shorter and shadows grown long
And the geese have come singing their wintertime song
They course the night skies in their search of fair prey
Wise folks stay inside to keep out of harms way
When the moon lights the sky like a great silver pearl
The furious host sees its banner unfurl
And woe be to those who’ve out in the night strayed
Who should happen afoul of this dread cavalcade
and with thundering hooves and the baying of hounds
the dead rise from within
their old burial mounds
Midden in dem wag! comes the troups’ warning cry
best heed these few words or you surely will die
Wod Ho, Wod Ho, the huntsmaster calls out,
and the huntsmen reply, the same bone chilling shout
Middle of the way!
booms the voice from the sky
face down on the road
and they may pass you by
Over fields across lakes and through woods go the pack
great fiery black dogs,
the dread host at their back
Wod Ho, Wod Ho,
the huntsmaster calls out
And the huntsmen reply, the same bone chilling shout
Hear the din of the hounds
resound throughout the hollow
Hear the ancient fell cry of the huntsmen who follow
Wod Ho, Wod Ho
the huntsmaster calls out
And the huntsmen reply, the same bone chilling shout
Óðrœrir 152
Winter Full
Moon Bede
•
By Shane Ricks
Hear, I tell men | to honor the gods
the far famed ones | favor to good men
high holy powers | our people’s providence
I pray the One-Eyed god | hail the GallowsBurden
Father of Hosts | God of the Hanged
words I give | for Raven god’s weal
Hail heaven’s warder | holy hammer wielder
fare forth swiftly | friend of men
great in battle | the bane of giants
Hear, I bid | battle-bold Ing
boar-rider | folk-leader
give wealth | and fertile seasons
I pray the One-handed god | leavings of the wolf
proud faith-keeper | prince of temples
mighty glory-god | guide us well
A gift for a gift | good folk true
wealth for men | honor for gods
memory for the dead | and weleful wights
I wield words for | world’s mighty warders
sharing hall joys | just in giving
fair fame | kindly words
Praise and wisdom | we seek in life
Happiness and health | for kith and kin
right action | wide wealth
Corn Wight
•
By Josh Rood
Fornyrðislag
This poem was written in honor of this season’s
corn spirit and the idol we built for it.
Wild-hearted Warden
Wight-lord of the field
Wholeness and Health
Heilag you bring
Gladly we gift for The gains in our luck
Since captured you, caught you,
Corn-Idol made you
Óðrœrir 153
A Snake Story
•
By Josh Heath
It was a nice warm early fall day and I was basking on top of Rattlesnake Mountain. It’s one of the
easier climbs in the state, something you could do in a few hours and then still make it to the party you had
to go to later that day. Or something like that anyway.
I usually did this hike once a week, it was a good way to reenergize after a week of work, and I really
enjoyed the atmosphere and view from the small peak. It was one of those nice places to relax, maybe talk
to a few of the other hikers and let all the worries of the week pass by. Actually, I think the interactions
with other folk are one of the most interesting parts of the hike, especially when you get to meet the day
hikers that bring their girlfriends along on a “short” hike. You can tell the type, those that want to be more
outdoorsy and intrepid, but rarely make it past the stairs in the mall. I can’t say I’ve made a habit of it, but
I’ve met my fair share of women that way. Usually good for short relationships, the kind you know won’t
go too far, but go on long enough to enjoy the company.
I sat there in between the crook of two larger rocks and sipped slowly out of a pleasantly cool water
bottle. I’d had the sense to throw a few ice cubes in before I left the house. It was a tad past mid-day and
clouds were floating by, you know the ones were kids are pointing at the different shapes and what not.
I heard the footsteps of someone coming up the path, but I wasn’t worried. I’d known someone would
come by before too long, it was guaranteed this time of year. An older gentleman, not too old but not
young either, made his way gracefully up the path. He was dressed in green slacks and a green button up
shirt. I figured he must be a forest ranger, but he didn’t have the usual patches on. Maybe he’d just retired.
He carried with him a cooler, quite a bit bigger than most hikers would have carried. It was one of those
big blue ones, white top and handle, the kind you see at a barbecue. He had worn tan boots on, and had
his distinguished gray hair tied back in a ponytail. He wore a long beard. It was trimmed and combed well
though, and like his long hair, just seemed to work.
“Hello young’n,” his crisp voice traveled over to where I sat.
His accent was odd to say the least. He could have been an old timer from around here, but the way his
hello came out, almost made him sound foreign. Familiar, but not quite what I’d expect from one of the
people around here.
“Hi,” I called back respectfully raising my right hand in greeting.
“Yuh mind if I join yah?” again he sounded like he could be an old native, but just not quite right.
“Mountain’s not mine. You’re welcome to,” with a broad smile on my face I replied.
“Yuh right ‘bout that, mountain don’t belong tah no one anymarh,” he chuckled and left it at that.
He sat down near me on a rock that had been worn down with so many other folks doing just the same.
He set his cooler down and reached towards his feet, stretching his arms down towards them.
“Arrrgghhh, if I could tell you not to get old and you’d listen, I’d do so,” he chuckled.
“If I could stop it I would,” I smiled back again.
With a strangely serious face he said back, “Ayuh, I’d do the same”
I looked him over one more time and sat up straight. I put forward my hand in introduction, “My name’s
Alex.”
Óðrœrir 154
He took it with a firm grip, “I go by quite a few names, but you can call me Grim if you like.”
“Grim it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Ayuh.”
Again, I got the sense that he’d been here for a long time, long enough to pick up the colloquialisms but
not long enough to get rid of that foreign accent he seemed to have. We sat for a few minutes gazing at the
same view, taking in the mountain. I saw him breathe in deeply quite a few times, and I realized he was
doing something I tended to do when I first reached the summit: breathe in the clean air. Usually a silence
like that can drag on, but not this time, it was a pleasant day, and it was nice to see someone get the same
enjoyment as I from it.
About a hundred years ago the last of the rattlesnakes had been killed off in the state. The locals didn’t
take to them very well, and there weren’t enough to really make it hard. This small mountain was just
one of two in the region with the name, so they’d had a pretty wide territory back in the day. I’m not one
of those folks who have any sort of phobia about snakes, I kind of find them interesting, and I’d heard a
rumor about a project to reintroduce the serpent. I was sure that some bureaucracy would stop that from
happening though. Some mothers group against snakes or something. My opinion was this mountain
could use a few more snakes and a few less flatlanders walking around on it.
“Kinda ironic the name of this place isn’t it,” I asked from my train of thought.
“Ayuh, sure is,” His smile broadened and he laughed a little,” Hasn’t been a snake here since the earlier
1900’s.” “Last one was killed in 1906, June 16th.”
“Wow, that’s impressive you know the date and everything?”
“Ayuh, I make it my business to know,” the smile on his face was one of satisfaction at his knowledge.
“I’d say this mountain could use a few mah snakes and a few less flatlandahs walking around on it,
don’t you think?” His echo of my exact thoughts was a little strange and his smile was pleasant, but had
an odd knowing sort of look on it.
“Uhh, yeah.”
“Well take a peek at what I got here,” he said while cracking open the lid of his cooler.
He raised the lid slightly, and I heard a faint rustling sound come from within. Gently putting his hands
in, he pulled out a small snake, tiny rattle on the end of its tail swaying slightly side to side. At first I
couldn’t believe my eyes, here was one of the snakes that had been so long ago snuffed out. What was he
going to do with it? Let just one of them loose? It wouldn’t make much difference, I thought. The snake
was beautiful though, its markings were slightly different from any I’d seen before, and he seemed to have
no fear from the old man holding him. As I watched him handle the snake, I realized the old man had two
different colored eyes. Both of them moved a little differently than the other, and I realized one of them
had to be fake, a really good fake too, because I couldn’t quite tell which one. The rattlesnake wound his
way up his arm, and came to rest in the sun that was shining there. It flicked its tongue a few times, and
seemed content.
“Wow, so they finally OK’d that program huh?” I asked hoping the old man wasn’t doing this on his
own volition.
“Ayuh, they’ll have started the official release soon, this here’s a little head start for the fellas.”
I sighed with relief that he wasn’t just going to release a snake by himself and hoped it worked out, that
sort of thing could lead to a real mess.
“When you gonna tell the public?”
“Well, they’ll ah hear about it real soon, I’m not part of the wadeya call it, Public Relations’ Department
in this heah mattah,” he laughed and smiled broadly.
“He seems to be really comfortable around people.”
Óðrœrir 155
“Not really, he’s a bit of a shy one, but I’ve spent some time as a snake I got the smell on me,” he had
a mad sort of grin on him.
Maybe he misspoke, I’m sure he meant to say he spent a lot of time with the snakes.
“Just the one though?” I asked in a curious way.
“Nope, got 6 of em this trip. Be bringing a few more in the next few days. I’m sure they’ll ah take to
their old home pretty well,” he stroked the top of the snakes back while the little rattler’s tongue flicked
around for a few seconds.
“I’m gonna let em out down the way a bit, don’t want to put em too close to where the people congregate
just too soon, give em a chance anyway. I figure. Well it’s been good talkin’ to yah Alex.” At that point
he stood slowly, and placed his charge slowly back into the cooler. And without looking back he ambled
down the path.
“Where you from?” I called down to him as he left.
“All ovah, but last place before I came heah were Iceland,” he called over his shoulder.
I sat there for a little bit longer trying to get my head around what was going to happen to my little
mountain.
A few days after that I heard a story on the news, the Fish and Game department had officially decided
against the snake reintegration, however it looked like somehow a container of the snakes had gotten away
from an assistant Warden and had been let loose. Fish and Game had decided to allow those 6 to roam
and would keep an eye on how they were doing with the local population and the program would go from
there. No one could pin point exactly who the assistant warden was either.
Óðrœrir 156
Ashlad and Redfoks
•
By Tim Gladu
ONCE ON A TIME there was a king who ruled a newly settled farmstead. He had many hundred sheep,
many hundred goats, many hundred cattle, and many hundred horses he had too. Silver and gold he had
in great heaps. But for all of that, he was so given to grief that he seldom ever saw folk, much less spoke
a word to them. In such a state he had been ever since his youngest daughter was lost.
Even if he had never lost her, it would still have been bad, for there was a troll who was forever making
such waste and worry there that folk could hardly travel to the king’s grange in peace. First the troll let all
the horses loose, and they trampled down fields and meadows, and ate up the grain. Next he tore the heads
off all the king’s ducks and geese. Sometimes he killed the king’s cattle in the barns. Sometimes he drove
the king’s sheep and goats over the cliffs, and broke their necks. Every time folks went to fish in the mill
pond, he had driven all the fish to land, and left them lying there dead. People lived in fear of the dark and
cowered inside at night, and on all the days that Sunna hid so did they.
There was an old couple who had three sons, the first was called Per, the second Anders, and the third
Espen, called Ashlad, for he always sat and poked about in the ashes, dreaming the day away.
They were capable youths. Per, who was the eldest, was said to be the most capable. One day he asked
his father if he might have leave to go out into the world and try his luck.
“Yes, you shall have it,” said the old fellow. “Late is better than never, my boy.”
So Per got mead in a skin, and food in his knapsack, and then he threw his pack on his back and trotted
down the hill. When he had walked a while, he passed an old moss-green troll hag who lay by the roadside.
“Ah, my dear boy, give me a morsel of food today,” said the old troll hag.
But Per hardly so much as looked to one side, and then he held his head straight and went on his way.
“Ay, ay!” said the troll hag, “go along, and you shall see what you shall see.”
So Per went far, and farther than far, till he came at last to the king’s grange. There stood the king in the
dooryard, feeding the roosters and hens.
“Good evening, and Frey bless your majesty,” said Per.
“Chicky! Chicky!” said the king, and scattered corn both east and west, and took no heed of Per.
“Well,” said Per to himself, “you may just stand there and scatter corn and cackle chicken-tongue till
you turn into a bear,” and so he went into the kitchen and sat down on the bench as though he were a great
man.
“What sort of a runt are you?” said the cook, for Per had not yet gotten his beard. That, Per thought,
mocking so he fell to berating the cook. While he was hard at it, in came the king, who made the cook cut
three red stripes out of Per’s back, and then they rubbed salt into the wound and sent him home again the
same way he had come.
Once Per was home, Anders decided it was his turn. He too got mead in his skin, and food in his
knapsack. He threw his pack on his back and trotted down the hill. When he had gotten on his way, he too
met the old troll hag who begged him for food, but he strode past her and made no answer. At the king’s
grange he did not fare at all better than Per. The king called, “Chicky,” and the kitchen maid called Anders
a clumsy boy. When he was going to beat her for that, in came the cook with a butcher’s knife and cut
three red stripes out of him and rubbed hot embers in them, and sent him home with a sore back.
Then, Ashlad crept up from the hearth and began to brush himself. The first day he shook all the ashes
Óðrœrir 157
off him. The second day he washed and combed himself, and the third he dressed himself in his best
clothes.
“Just look at him,” said Per. “Now we have a new sun shining here. I suppose you are off to the king’s
grange to find his daughter and win half the kingdom? Better stay in the ashes and lie on the hearth.”
Anders said, “You have spent all your time in the pantry at Mother’s skirts, what do you know of the
world? Best crawl back in the ashes where you belong.”
But Ashlad paid his brothers no mind, and he went to his father and asked leave to go out a little into
the world.
“What are you to do out in the world?” said the graybeard. “It did not fare so well for either Per or
Anders, and what do you think will become of you? Your thoughts are never on what you are doing.”
Ashlad would not give up, and so at last he had leave to go.
His brothers were not in favor of letting him have a morsel of food with him, but his mother gave him
a cheese rind and a bone with very little meat on it. With these, he trotted away from the cottage. As he
went he took his time.
“You’ll be there soon enough,” he said to himself. “You have all the day before you, and afterwards the
moon will rise if you have any luck.” So he breathed deeply of the air, and wandered up the hills, and all
the while he looked around him on the road.
After a long, long way he met the old woodwife who lay by the roadside. She sat before an open door
in the earth and sang softly.
“The poor old cripple,” said Ashlad, “I guess you are starving.”
The wolf crone nodded, yes, she was.
“Are you? Then I’ll share with you,” said Ashlad, and as he said that he gave her the meat bone. “You
are freezing, too,” he said, as he saw how her teeth chattered. “You must take this old sweater of mine. It’s
not good in the arms, and thin in the back, but once on a time, when it was new, it was warm.”
“Bide a bit,” said the old woodwife, as she fumbled down in her big pocket. “Here you have an old
silver key. I have nothing better or worse to give you but when you look through the hole at the top, you
can see what may be.”
“Many thanks,” said Ashlad. He looked up and she was gone, and the door in the mound was closed.
When he got to the king’s grange, the kitchen maid was hard at work drawing water, and that was great
toil to her.
“It is too heavy for you,” said Ashlad, “but it is just what I am fit to do.”
“I am glad for the help.” said the kitchen maid, “Come with me, my lad.” From that day on, she always
let Ashlad scrape the porridge pot. Some of the other kitchen helpers were envious of Espen. They went
and told lies to Jarl Redfoks about him, who was not slow in telling the king.
One day the king came and asked Ashlad, “Is it true that you could protect the fish in the mill pond so
that the troll could not harm them? For that is what they tell me you have said.”
“I have not said so,” said Ashlad, “but if I had said it, I would have been as good as my word.”
“Well, however it was, whether you said it or not, you must try this task if you wish to keep a whole
skin on your back,” the king said.
“Well, if I must, I must,” said Ashlad, “I have no need to go about with red stripes under my jacket.”
In the evening Ashlad set to work. He knew what herbs were needed to ward off trolls. He began
plucking all that he could find of the nine needed herbs. Some of these he spread in the pond and some on
land. The rest he spread over the brink of the dam. The troll had to leave the fish in peace, but now the
sheep suffered for it, for the troll chased them all over the cliffs and crags the whole night.
Then one of the servants came to Redfoks and said that Ashlad knew a charm to protect the sheep as
Óðrœrir 158
well, if he only chose to use it. That Ashlad had said he was capable enough to do it was the very truth,
insisted the servant boy.
In short order Redfoks told the king, who then went out to Espen and spoke to him as he had spoken
the first time. The king threatened that he would cut three broad stripes out of Ashlad’s back if he did not
do what he claimed he could.
There was no help for it, Ashlad thought. So he committed himself to his herb mixture again. There
was no end to his work, for as soon as he bound herbs the sheep they ate it off one another’s backs. As he
went on binding, they went on eating and they ate faster than he could bind. At last he made an ointment
with tar and rubbed it well into them, and then they stopped eating it. Then the cattle and the horses got
the same treatment, and so they had peace from the troll. But the buildings next bore the wrath of the troll,
who spent the whole night rending and tearing the barns and storage houses to pieces.
Ashlad then burned the nine herbs and smudged the ashes on the house. Then he went to an old gnarled
mountain ash and said, “Help me now as you have helped Thor.” He then pulled out his knife and said to
the mighty rowan, “Grant me leave to cut some branches.” He then took some berry laden branches and
hung them over the troughs where the cows and horses and sheep fed.
“How did you learn your plantcraft?” asked the king.
“Treat the spirits of plants like you treat other human beings, then the plants will speak and teach us
their use as medicines.” said Espen.
That night such an endless rain of boulders besieged the folk that the king was finally convinced to
send out a hunting party. He gathered his best warriors and they rode out that very morning to much
fanfare. Redfoks had managed to stay behind. The king and his men made their way onto a mountain
pass. A huge waterfall thundered by from on high. The men dismounted from their horses and made slow
and wary progress, swords and shields at hand. Three abreast they could walk along the narrow tract. As
they approached the waterfall they realized there was no way past. Attempting to pass through the torrent
meant a personal greeting with the jumble of rocks hundreds of feet below. The cliff face went straight up
for an equal measure on the other side as well. There was no going up.
Then with a piercing shriek and a deafening thud the troll was upon them. The beast leapt down from
above into the midst of the warriors. He grew until he towered above them. All they could do was fall
back, shields raised. The king raised his sword to charge toward the troll, but the bodies of all his men lay
between them. In just a few passing heartbeats the king stood alone with the troll. The troll stepped over
the king, shrunk down in size, and walked directly through the waterfall.
The king, unable to deal with his loss, rode round and round for many days bewildered and lost. He
had nothing either to eat or drink, and his clothing fared so ill in the thorns and thickets that at last he had
scarcely a rag upon his back.
Then the troll came to him, bending trees out of his way, and said, “If you promise to grant me the first
thing you set eyes on when you get back on your own land, I will guide you home to your grange.”
“Yes,” agreed the king, he could have that, for the king thought it would surely be his little dog, which
always came hustling out to meet him.
Just as he got near his grange, out came his eldest daughter and all the people after her to meet the king
and to welcome him back safe and sound.
When the king realized that she was the first to meet him, he was so cut to the heart that he fell to the
ground on the spot sobbing. From that moment forward he remained befuddled and addled. The trees
parted and the troll allowed himself to be seen so all would know how the king had come to be home
again. Everyone was in great despair, not knowing how to break the spell the troll had cast over their king.
Finally it was decided that the princess would have to be delivered to the troll.
Óðrœrir 159
One evening the troll was to come and fetch the princess. She was dressed out in her best and sat in a
field out by the lake, weeping. Redfoks was to go with her, but he was so afraid that he climbed up into a
tall spruce tree, and there he stuck. Just then up came Ashlad, who sat down on the ground by the side of
the princess. She was so glad to see that there were still good folk who dared to stay by her after all. Then
she took a gold ring off her finger and knitted it into his hair.
There was a great silence in the forest. Up came the troll, puffing and blowing. He was so heavy footed
that all the wood groaned and cracked for a whole mile round. When the troll saw Redfoks sitting up in
the treetop like a little rooster, right at the troll’s eye level, he spat at him. He let loose a little breath, like
blowing out a candle, and down toppled Redfoks and the spruce tree to the ground. There he lay sprawling
like a fish out of water.
The troll roared then, spotting Espen he said, “To fight with me is not a child’s task.”
“Uffda!” said Ashlad. He was not slow, he pulled the cheese rind out of his knapsack in a heartbeat, and
squeezed it till the whey spurted out. “Hold your tongue!” he cried to the troll, “or, I’ll squeeze you as I
squeeze the water out of this white stone.”
“Huh,” said the troll, “Huh, who are you?”
“I am Espen, son of...”
“Never heard of you,” interrupted the troll. As he said that he hurled his iron spear at Ashlad so that it
sliced deeply into the rock. Ashlad was so quick and ready on his feet that he easily dodged the spear as
the troll hurled it.
Ashlad then looked at the troll through his silver key. Emboldened by what he saw, he taunted the troll
for being so afraid of one as little as himself and took to running and jumping like a deer in an effort to lure
the troll away from the princess. They went in and out of the wood, and the troll ran and stumbled over the
stumps, so that the dust flew and the wood rang.
Now that the troll was gone, Redfoks found his courage and came out of the felled treetop and carried
off the princess to the grange as though he had been the one to set her free. There was such joy in the
king’s grange that it was heard and talked of over land and realm, and Redfoks was to be married to the
oldest daughter.
When Espen arrived back at the grange he was asked by the other kitchen boys what had happened, for
they knew Redfoks well enough not to trust the words of the fox.
“He proved no match for me, ‘Hand over your toothpick, and you shall see something like a throw,’ I
commanded the troll. His spear was as big as three gate poles.
“‘Hu!’ grunted the troll, ‘What are you gazing at now?’
“‘I am looking out for a star at which to throw,’ said I. ‘Do you see that tiny little one due north? That’s
the one I choose.’
“‘Nay,’ said the troll, ‘let it be as it is. You must not throw away my iron stake.’
“‘Well,’ I said, ‘you may have it again then, but perhaps you would not mind if I tossed you up to the
moon just once.’
“No, the troll would have nothing to say to that either.
“‘Haven’t you a mind to play blind man’s buff?’ I asked him.
“‘Yes, that would be fine fun,’ the troll said, ‘but you shall be blindfolded first,’ said the troll.
“‘Oh yes, with all my heart,’ I told him, ‘but the fairest way is that we draw lots, and then we shall not
have anything to quarrel about.’
“‘Yes, yes, that would be best.’
“I took care to make sure the troll should be the first to have his eyes covered, and was the first buff.
We went in and out of the wood, and the troll ran and stumbled over the stumps, so that the dust flew and
Óðrœrir 160
the wood rang.
“‘Haw!’ screamed the troll at last, ‘I’ll not be the blind buck any longer,’ for he was in a great rage.
“‘Bide a bit,’ I said, ‘and I’ll stand still and call till you come and catch me.’
“Meanwhile, I pulled up some tree roots and ran round to the other side of the lake, which was so deep
it seemed bottomless. ‘Now come, here I stand,’ I called out.
“‘I dare say there are logs and stumps in the way,’ said the troll.
“‘Your ears can tell you there is no wood here,’ I said to him and then assured him that there were no
stumps or logs. ‘Now come along!’
“So the troll set off again, and splashed into the water, and there lay the troll in the lake. I flicked out
an eye with the root whip every time he got his head above water.
“Now the troll begged so prettily for his life that I thought it was a shame to take it, but first the troll
had to give up the princess and to bring back the other whom he had stolen before. Besides that, he had to
promise that folk and flock should have peace. Then I let the troll out.”
“So where is the young princess?” asked the boys.
“I am off to the troll’s home to fetch the youngest princess now,” answered Ashlad.
Laughing mightily, off the boys ran to find Redfoks and spread the fanciful tale.
Ashlad arrived at the troll’s mountain home, a large barrow atop a cliff overlooking the ocean. The troll
met him there and in they went, and down. The walls were artfully sculpted out of the living rock and the
whole chamber gleamed gold and silver from torch-lit reflections in huge piles of gold and silver and all
things precious to men strewn about. Tapestries, lush with golden and silver threads, hung on the walls and
finely wrought furniture stood before them. Carvings and paintings depicted forest and mountain scenes.
He peeped through his silver key and saw, through the wall, the princess chained to the wall along with
some cows, amid an enormous heap of skulls.
“You promised to set her free in exchange for your life,” said Ashlad.
The troll, in no mood to argue, opened a huge door in the wall by pounding on it with a pole, and they
both went inside. The troll bent down and snapped the chain.
“There is the princess,” said the troll.
“Can you walk?” Ashlad asked the princess.
“I’ll damn well walk out of here,” she said.
The huge door then slammed closed, bones rattled, sounding like voices, and there was nothing but fear
and dark and bones. They were trapped in the huge damp chamber filled with skulls.
Espen pulled out his silver key once again and peered through the hole. He saw a great waterfall and a
narrow path. Ashlad saw a wolf and the princess escaping along the ledge. Trusting in his fylgja, Ashlad
and the princess went to the back of the cavern and, pressing their backs to the wet wall, inched themselves
through the waterfall and out onto the ledge beyond. All the land between them and the sea stood open to
his gaze.
Espen had seen a drinking horn hanging on the wall and taken it on their way out.
“What is in the horn?” asked the princess.
“Saliva from tortured snakes, gives magic strength,” answered Ashlad. Ashlad always felt more
comfortable in the mountains, hard was the climbing but he did not mind it. Espen and the princess
journeyed together back to the king’s manor. Ashlad had brought the youngest princess as far as the garden
when they heard the news that Redfoks was to marry the oldest princess that very day. Redfoks himself
was there to meet them.
Redfoks, whom all thought had saved the princess was to drive off the troll. There was no help for
it but to send in Ashlad again. Redfoks went at Ashlad with threats, claiming he was born of bear, not
Óðrœrir 161
wanted. He then told them that just as they were preparing to feast, the troll had gone down under earth
and stopped all the springs of water. “I heard the troll say, ‘If I cannot do them any other harm, they shall
not have water to boil,’” Redfoks said.
In the end, Espen agreed to help once more.
Redfoks then led the young princess home to take credit for her rescue as well.
Water soaking had not worked, so Espen decided to try burning the troll instead. “I will need that iron
spear which the troll had, which is twenty-five feet long. Six smiths also I need, to make it red hot,”
Ashlad said.
The smiths did as they were bid. Then Ashlad peeped through his key and saw the troll just as easily
underground as he would have if the beast were above ground. He took a gulp from the troll’s drinking
horn, then, utilizing his newly gotten troll-strength, he drove the spear down through the ground and into
the troll’s backbone. There was a smell of burnt hair for fifteen miles around.
“Haw!” bellowed out the troll, “let me out!” In an instant he came tearing up through the hole, and all
his back was burnt and singed up to his neck.
Burning did not work, but Ashlad was not slow. He caught the troll on a stake that had thyme twisted
round it, and there he was forced to lie till he told Ashlad where he had gotten fresh eyes from after those
he had were poked out.
“If you must know,” said the troll, “I stole a turnip, and rubbed it well over with ointment, and then I
cut it to the sizes I needed, and nailed them in tight with ten penny nails. Better eyes I hope no human
will ever have!”
Then the king came with the two princesses and wanted to see the troll, and Redfoks walked so bent and
bowed, his rump was higher than his neck. Then the king caught sight of something glistening in Ashlad’s
hair.
“What have you got there?” he asked.
“Oh,” said Ashlad, “nothing but the ring your daughter gave me when I freed her from the troll.”
And now it came out how it had all truly happened, for the troll himself related the tale. Redfoks
begged and prayed for himself, but for all his trying and all his crying there was no help for it, down he
had to go into a pit full of snakes.
The king then asked, “Who is your grandfather?”
Espen, wanting not to insult the king, told the truth. His grandfather was a coal biter.
“My offer was for a prince,” the king announced, “There will be no wedding today.”
The king learned that it was the felling of the great trees of the wood by the folk for their homesteads
that had so offended the troll and the king agreed to let the old trees be.
The troll laughed, and agreed to pay for all the damage he had wrought.
“What did you say your name was?” asked the troll, ignoring the king and directing his question to
Ashlad.
“Espen,” replied Ashlad.
“I’ll remember you,” said the troll, and he departed.
Ashlad went and gathered a score of cattle and headed on up into the mountains after the troll. Upon
his return everyone wanted to know what had happened, and whether the troll would return. Espen was
happy to tell the tale.
“‘We have worked quite well together, come and work for me,’ that is what the troll said to me.
“I was willing enough, and when they reached the troll’s house in the mountain, the troll was to make
up the fire, while I went to fetch water for our supper. There stood two iron pails so big and heavy, that I
could not so much as lift them from the ground.
Óðrœrir 162
“I said to him, ‘Bah! It isn’t worth my while to touch these thimbles. I will just go and fetch the spring
itself.’
“‘Nay, nay, dear friend!’ said the troll, ‘I can’t afford to lose my spring, just you make up the fire, and
I’ll go and fetch the water.’ So when he came back with the water, the troll said, ‘before we cook supper
the cows must be put back in the barn. The dog will show you the way.’
“Off we went, me and the dog, Hops, up to the barn. There was no door on the barn and I quickly
realized that the troll just picked up the building and set it over the cows. Then Hops squeezed inside
under some loose boards. ‘Hops will show you the way, indeed,’ I said. So I chopped the cows into pieces
and tossed the pieces in under the loose board. Then Hops and I returned to the house where the troll was
building the cook fire.
“‘Are the cows put away already?’ asked the troll.
“‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘but first I split them up.’
“The troll said, ‘You finish up cooking, and brew a barrel of malt, put plenty of hops in it. Then make a
goat bridge so that they can cross the marsh, they are hungry.’ Then the troll set off to check on his cows.
“I brewed the malt and when I saw Hops, I tossed him in the barrel. Then, I went out to the marsh and
slaughtered the troll’s three goats. I turned them on their backs with their legs sticking up and put them in
the water, the biggest one in the middle. Then I waited for the troll.
“When the troll saw his goats had been killed, he was quite angered, but without uttering a word, he
went across the bridge and on to the house with me following.
“‘Is supper ready?’ bellowed the troll gruffly.
“‘Yes, made just as you directed,’ I said.
“The troll picked up a ladle and was about to taste the drink when the ladle came up full of bones. ‘I
think these belong to Hops!’ he shrieked.
“‘You said plenty of hops,’ I said.
“The troll then went to his house and kicked a great heap of bones out of his way and pulled out an
enormous sleigh. He then heaped up great piles of gold and silver and finely wrought things and pushed
the sleigh out the door.
“‘I can stand it no longer,’ he said, ‘I am moving from this mountain. Here is payment for your king.’
With that he pushed the great sleigh down the mountain.”
The king interrupted, “And where is this great sled filled with treasure?”
Espen then presented the great sleigh for all to see.
Meanwhile, the troll disappeared over the mountain, to the place where Ashlad had taken that score
of cattle, far up to the new howe Espen had built on the far end of the ridge, with a splendid ocean view.
The folk then began to be noisy and merry, to drink and dance at the feast that had been prepared in
Espen’s honor. They feasted on goat meat and beef and enjoyed quite a strong brew.
The king then said, “We shall see what we shall see,” and invited Espen to join him, and he was given
the place on the king’s bench by his right side, opposite his youngest daughter.
After the feast, Espen gathered a heaping bowl of stew and took it into the forest for the woodwife.
Óðrœrir 163
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