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Hurricane memories, and writing update

Photo credit: Laura Adai. Unsplash license.

I don’t follow the news obsessively, but my impression is that, in terms of Hurricane Milton, things could have been a lot worse. It seems as if the storm hit with less force than expected. No doubt there has been great loss and suffering, but apparently it might have been worse.

Almost as if our prayers had efficacy.

So I’ll come out and say it, and let the skeptics laugh at me (since they will anyway) – thanks and praise be to God.

I can never forget my Florida years, when I lived in a mobile home and ruminated much on hurricanes in my lonely bed. One year a bad one (I think it was called Aaron. Or Erin) hit while I was on vacation in Minnesota. I came home to find my tin house almost unscathed – but the screen porch had been excised as neatly as if by a surgeon’s knife. The only damage to the main structure was a slit in a window screen.

That looked like divine timing in my case. I had recently lost my job, and I took the insurance money for the porch and lived on it, until I got work back home in the north. I sold the house without a porch.

I am currently in the toils of shaping The Elder King up for its paperback regeneration. I’m finding more than one spot where I’d like to do some re-writing, but I am practicing restraint. I don’t want the e-book and the dead tree version to be too different from one another. I only change obvious – and small – errors. Mostly.

But I just discovered that a certain character, when I introduced him in this book, looked differently from the way I describe him in The Baldur Game. Which means I’ll have to dip into TBG and make some changes tomorrow. I guess it’s another divine providence that publication has been delayed.

Though I have no doubt there are myriad inconsistencies I’ve missed completely, and with which I’ll just have to live.

Leif Eriksson Day 2024

Painting of Leif Eriksson by the Norwegian artist Christian Krohg. Krohg liked his models, male and female, to have a little meat on their bones.

I’m thinking a lot about the people of Florida today. I lived there eleven years, you know, and if I still lived in my old house, I’d be in the path – though on the opposite side of the state, so chances are the damage will be less there. But many a night I lay in bed thinking about hurricanes. More about that, perhaps, tomorrow.

I feel I should acknowledge Leif Eriksson Day, a holiday we Norwegians love to talk about, but rarely do much to celebrate. Heaven knows it’s my busy time of the year.

Leif Eriksson features in the Netflix series, Vikings: Valhalla, the sequel to the History Channel Vikings series. It should not have surprised me that they made him about 40 years younger than he actually was and sent him gallivanting around Eastern Europe and the Mediterranean as sidekick to a young Harald Hardrada.

The story of the discovery of America (Vinland) in the sagas is recounted in two different sagas, The Greenlanders’ Saga and The Saga of Erik the Red, which feature enough similarities to argue for a common factual basis, but which are quite different in content. One version (I forget which offhand) says America was first sighted by a man named Bjarni Herjulfsson, who did not go ashore. Leif, when Bjarni finally arrived in Greenland, bought his ship and went to the new country himself. The other saga credits the first sighting to Leif himself. Either way, Leif is the first Norseman to actually go ashore in Vinland.

Most stories about Leif mention that he was the first missionary to Greenland. That’s a somewhat complex issue, in fact. The saga says that King Olaf Trygvesson (whom you may recall from The Year of the Warrior) commissioned Leif to take the gospel back to his home, where he had good success with his message, except in his father’s case. His father, Erik the Red, rejected the new faith violently, and it caused a separation with his wife, Leif’s mother Thjodhild.

However, historians today tend to doubt that account. They note (and I’m talking from memory here, because for the life of me I can’t find documentation, though I know I’ve read it in more than one book) that early accounts of Olaf Trygvesson’s life say he “evangelized five lands” (I think it was five), while later accounts make it seven lands. One of the extra lands – added centuries later – seems to have been Greenland. Hence, they assume that the Greenland business was invented later in time and just appended to the list by later writers.

For my own part, I decided to square the circle in my novels. I portray Leif as a Christian (which is perfectly plausible) but say nothing (as far as I recall) about Olaf’s commission.

The foundations of a tiny church have been found in Greenland, near the farmstead identified today as Brattahlid, Erik’s and Leif’s home. This seems to corroborate a passage in the sagas that says that Thjodhild built a private church out of sight of the house, so her husband wouldn’t have to look at it.

However, I spoke to a man at the Viking Festival in Green Bay last weekend, who told me about a tour he’d taken to Greenland. There he met a man who believes he has good archaeological evidence that the farm identified as Brattahlid today is not the real one. He locates Brattahlid further up the fjord.

In any case, I do consider Leif a Christian. So I resolve to celebrate his holiday.

Next year, for sure.

The Viking house in Green Bay

I am (once again) reading a very long book, and so will be a while getting to my next review. As I pondered what to post tonight, it occurred to me to check whether there was any video about the Viking House that formed the centerpiece for the Midwest Viking Festival in Green Bay – from which I returned on Sunday.

And behold, there is one. This seems to be a promotional video, produced before the house was relocated to Green Bay, touting the idea of making it part of the campus.

The house is in a form called a “grind house,” after the “grind” (rhymes with “wind,” I think) which is a section of the house comprising its length between the sets of internal pillars. The buildings are constructed in an almost modular fashion, as I understand it.

The video features my new friend Owen Christianson and his wife Elspeth. Owen is – as I mentioned yesterday – a physicist. He also has a black belt in karate (I kid you not).

All in all, a formidable individual.

Festival report, Green Bay 2024

The Midwest Viking Festival in Green Bay is, once again, history (in two senses). I made the four-hour-plus drive to and from without incident, and had an excellent time.

I shared a motel room with the experimental archaeologist who oversaw the construction of the Viking House, on the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay campus, that is the centerpiece of the encampment. His name is Owen Christianson and he is a physicist (I really didn’t understand his descriptions of his work, but it has something to do with electromagnetics) by day. He’s also a recognized folk artist, and I once took his class in making wooden stave vessels. He was by himself this year because his wife was unable to come along. I was somewhat daunted by his credentials at first, but we actually found a lot to talk about, and parted good friends.

The festival itself runs Friday and Saturday. Friday is a day for school groups; it went okay, but was rather quiet. I feared we were losing public enthusiasm. But Saturday, as it was last year, was a madhouse, and people bought up nearly my whole stock of Viking Legacy (I’d brought extra this year) along with a fair quantity of my novels. I was in no wise disappointed.

As is more and more the case these days, the hard part for me was setting up, tearing down, and packing the car. I’m getting too old for this stuff, I fear, but I expect to keep at it for a while. I’m too proud to hang it up, I imagine, until I actually hurt myself. (Much thanks to Andy and Missy, especially, for helping me tote that barge and lift that bale.)

We got handsome coverage from a local TV station, and I was fortunate enough to get a lot of the air time. I’m the devilishly handsome man in the blue tunic, in case you were wondering.

Into enemy territory — the Midwest Viking Festival in Green Bay

I am, of course, keenly aware of the irony of holding a Viking festival in Green Bay, Wisconsin, home of the Packers. Yet so it is. Life does not always make sense, as I think Nietzsche observed.

In any case, I plan (by God’s travel mercies) to be at the Midwest Viking Festival this Friday and Saturday, selling my books in the ancient Norse manner. I guess I’ll also be doing some kind of presentation. Come and see if you’re in the area.

A good Hostfest for Vikings

This is me with a Norwegian Forest Cat. I’m the bigger one, but only slightly bigger.

I think I can do my promised post on Høstfest tonight, before time and senescence wipe all recollection from my mind. I’m gradually recovering from the rigors of travel, and expect to be fit for duty on Thursday, when I have to drive four hours to Green Bay, for the Midwest Viking Festival on Friday and Saturday.

How was Høstfest 2024? From my point of view (and I think I speak for all the Vikings), it was a smash. Among the highlights were these:

First of all, we were in a new location. Over the years (and a lot of years it’s been in my case) the festival has shoehorned the Viking encampment into any space they could find after the really important exhibitors had been accommodated. But now at last they placed us next to the Log Cabin (used, I understand, for Fur Trapper rendezvouses), right across from the main entrance to the exhibition/entertainment building.

This meant, first of all, that people could find us. The chief complaint we’ve gotten from Viking afficionados over the years is that nobody ever seemed to know where we were. This year we were front and center – and the visitor numbers were correspondingly gratifying.

It also meant that we were in the fresh air, where – strictly speaking – Vikings belong. An American log cabin isn’t so different from a Scandinavian one after all (Swedish immigrants invented them), and the weather was pleasant (sometimes, in fact, pretty darn warm).

Now if you know me at all, you know that I’m not numbered among the Great Outdoorsmen of this world. But even a couch tuber like me could feel the difference, spending four days in God’s sunshine and fresh air, as opposed to four days on concrete under fluorescent lights (often breathing the dust of a horse barn). I was tired at the end, but I didn’t feel as if I’d spent the time confined to a jail cell, as in the past.

I also sold a good number of books. And the local hosts who gave me a bed for four nights were extremely pleasant and congenial.

Each day, at 2:45 p.m., I went to an inside stage to sit on a stool next to a very beautiful woman who interviewed me about my writing and translating, as well as Viking history. I could tell she was in awe of me, but retained my dignity.

I even found a vendor who sold me some Norwegian Kvikk Lunsj candy bars, which are like Kit Kat except really, really good.

I drove home weary in body but quite fizzy in spirit, as Bertie Wooster might have put it. And as usual I stopped for lunch on the way with my friend (and commenter on this blog) Dale Nelson, which is always a pleasure.

I suppose Høstfest 2024 could have gone better for me, but offhand I can’t think how.

The Word Salad Days of America

The word salad comes to us through the fourteenth century Old French word salade, which developed from the Latin salata. The term was derived from the Latin word for “salt,” originally referring to salted vegetables. It may be an American habit to use this word to refer strictly to garden salads. Something like chicken salad was invented in the mid-1800s (but that’s an entirely different, um, animal).

The 1953 Webster’s New International gives salad an alternate definition of “an incongruous, heterogenous, or haphazard mixture or collection.” That could fit many things, and for the last couple years, you may have run across the curious term word salad in your esoteric reading. It’s an immediately recognizable term; no definition required. Its use has sharply increased over the summer. It comes from psychiatry referring to the incoherent speech sometimes observed in dementia patients. I found this example in a textbook of notes taken in 1914: “Then again he made extremely affected speeches of incomprehensible word salad.”

It would take a while to research how the term came into popular use before 2022. I found a 1999 Billboard review of a rap album that notes “the schizoid nature of his word salad.” A 1997 issue of New York Magazine mentions “word salad” as a psychiatric term. Perhaps the breach was made by the writers of Boston Legal, who released an episode on Mar 28, 2006, entitled “Word Salad Days” in which a character develops a gibberish-talking syndrome.

But today, when we think of word salad, it’s important to remember the significance of words and salads, okay? Words are the bits and pieces of our sentences, right, and salads, you know, salads are green. Like kale. And lettuce. And don’t forget collards. I used to be sought out for my collard greens recipes. It was the best of the neighborhood. I had a reputation for greens, okay? But word salads, word salads remind me of growing up middle class, just like the American voters who will be voting for me if they want to Democracy to live to fight another day. Democracy is what this is all about. And what it’s all about is voting for me.

Sorry. What was I saying?

By the way, “salad days” is a Shakespearean turn of phrase in Antony and Cleopatra, in which Cleopatra says at the end of Act 1, “My salad days, when I was green in judgment, cold in blood …”

What links can we share?

Rings of Power: The second season of Rings of Power has been coming out, and I haven’t cared to give it chance. I found a new YouTube channel from a guy who says he can’t stand it anymore. That was for episode six. Here’s the review of the first episode.

Fighting the Terrorists: “Meet the people risking their lives to speak out against the brutal terrorist group. Today: A Hezbollah fighter who became a voice of resistance.” Here’s a trailer for it.

(Illustration by Microsoft Bing’s Image Creator)

How now, Minot?

It seems a little silly to promote my upcoming appearance at Norsk Høstfest in Minot, North Dakota (video above). It is a long way away for most people (even me, come to think of it), and most of those who attend make special arrangements ahead of time for travel and accommodations. However, I think it might be easier to get in now than it has been in the past – Covid did a number on the event, and they’re trying to rebuild.

So if you happen to make it there, I’ll be in the Viking Village, more or less east of the main entrance, with books to sell. Also, at 2:45 pm each day, I’m scheduled to be interviewed about my fascinating work on the Familie Fjord stage at the south end of the mezzanine.

I’ve never done that before. My renown is spreading, obviously.

I’m still trying to get Hailstone Mountain set up for paperback release on Amazon. Currently I’m having trouble with the cover art, with which Phil Wade is trying to help me. With great patience, I might add. I’m sure he has more pressing things to do.

I just reached page 100 in the book I’m translating. That puts me right on schedule in my working plan. I shall savor the moment, and celebrate by putting in more work.

Have a great weekend!

In a Viking church

A fragment of a wall painting from my ancestral church at Aakra, Norway.

Here’s something one of my Facebook friends brought to my attention. The Viking Museum at Ribe, Denmark, has unveiled its recreation of what they think a 9th Century Viking church in Denmark would have looked like. It is not – as you can see – exactly what you’d expect. And by you, of course, I mean me.

I’ve never bothered to describe Father Ailill’s church in detail in my Erling books. I assume it was built of wood, and I conceived of it of being similar to the average Viking house. In Hailstone Mountain, I describe it as having at least one tapestry hanging on the wall. It has an altar in front. Pews were not used in those days. I’ve kept it vague.

But here come these Danes now with their bright painted walls. I’m reminded of the church at Åkra, near Skånevik, Norway, an ancestral church of mine I visited two years ago. (Picture above.) It’s not as old as the Viking Age, but pretty old. There was one place where restorers discovered a bit of wall painting underneath a door frame, over the top of the sacristy door. They left that section of frame hinged, so you can lift the piece of wood and see the painting below. They believe it showed a scene of Samson killing the lion.

In any case, I do have quibbles. The brightness of the photos in the article should not be taken to indicate what churchgoers saw in the Viking Age. The building would have been illuminated mostly by lamps. There would have been a lot of shadows. The brightness of the images would have been necessary in part (I think) to make them visible at all in the general gloom.

Speaking of light, I’m curious about the windows in this reconstruction. My own understanding is that glass windows, in that period, were rare and extremely expensive. I expend quite a few words, in my work in progress, The Baldur Game, in having Father Ailill describe, on a visit to England, how amazed he is to see a modestly large glass window in the palace at Winchester. And Erling is quite proud of one small window in one of his halls. I imagined no windows at all in Ailill’s church.

However, the people at Ribe are experts. They undoubtedly know a lot more than I do. (Though I’m not sure Norwegian churches would necessarily have followed Carolingian fashion.)

In any case, those windows look pretty extravagant to me. I wonder what archaeological evidence there is for them.

Historic Spacewalk Today, Major Advance in Reusable Spacecraft

SpaceX, an American spacecraft manufacturer, sent four astronauts into orbit today to enable two of them to execute spacewalk maneuvers. That’s one small step for man . . . no, that’s a major advance in spacecraft and spacesuit engineering.

Eric Berger of Ars Technica explains this as an achievement in reusable spacecraft. The Falcon 9 “will launch more than 100 times this year, something no government or company has ever done before.” It is “the world’s first orbital class reusable rocket,” according to SpaceX. It has reflown 302 times.