Fiction, Reading, Reviews

Saga reading report: ‘Thorarin Nefjolfsson’s Tale’

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Illustration by Christian Krohg of the tale of Thorarin Nefjolfsson’s foot. This is not the tale we’re considering in this post.

I’ve got another saga tale for you tonight, from The Complete Sagas of Icelanders. This one presented certain problems for me as a reader. In the first place, I found it poorly written (I’m blaming the original saga writer, not the translator) and rather hard to follow (all the saga writers couldn’t be geniuses). Secondly, it told me new things about a character I thought I knew pretty well, which didn’t quite fit my picture of him (can’t have original sources contradicting my assumptions!).

This one is “Thorarin Nefjolfsson’s Tale.” At first glance, anybody fairly familiar with saga literature will assume he knows what the story will be. I recounted it myself, in The Elder King (or was it King of Rogaland? Can’t keep my own books straight). It’s the story of how King Olaf caught a glimpse of Thorarin’s ugly foot in the morning light (illustration above), and bet him that there wasn’t an uglier foot in town. Then how Thorarin showed him an uglier foot, but got suckered anyway. It’s a great story. But this isn’t it.

Or then there’s the story I used for the climax of King of Rogaland, where Thorarin helps Erling Skjalgsson and his son Aslak (I think it was Aslak) to save Asbjorn Seal’s-bane from hanging. Also a great story. But this one isn’t that one either.

The somewhat disjoined story we’re dealing with here starts with Thorarin at the court of King Knut of Denmark (I didn’t know he ever went there), where he makes friends with a fellow named Thorstein. They agree to always stay in the same lodgings whenever they find themselves in the same country. As a result, they eventually join King (Saint) Olaf Haraldsson’s court in Norway together. There they are accused by jealous companions of treason against Olaf, and they have to go through the iron ordeal (which I’ve mentioned a couple times in my books) to prove their good faith. Thorstein turns out to have a miraculous mark on his palm which vindicates them.

I’m not sure what to think about this story. It’s not very plausible in its details, though I suppose it could have a core of fact, plus (as I mentioned) it’s kind of hard to follow.

What bothers me most, though, is the statement at the end that Thorarin died in battle alongside Olaf at Stiklestad. I always imagined Thorarin surviving to old age in Iceland, telling his grandchildren the marvelous stories of his life that eventually would be included in sagas. Also, I find it hard to imagine that Thorarin would have been allowed to stay in Olaf’s court after the fast one he pulled in the matter of Asbjorn Seal’s-bane.

Still, I suppose even a minor saga writer would have information about how Thorarin died. Now I’m hunting for more data, but the internet (even the Norway part of it) doesn’t have much to say.

Fiction, Reviews

‘Another Girl,’ by Peter Grainger

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I have, as I have frequently expressed, a great fondness for Peter Grainger’s DC Smith novels, police procedurals set in the fictional Kings Lake, Norfolk. Author Grainger has spun off another, not quite separate, series through retiring Detective Inspector Smith and continuing to follow his old squad, now dubbed the Murder Squad, under its new commander, a female inspector named Cara Freeman. I’ve generally ignored this “King’s Lake Mystery” series, but I figured I’d give it a chance with the recently released Another Girl.

Verdict: It’s not bad of its sort, but I just find these books hard to enjoy. On the other hand, they’re in the latest fashion – driven by female characters – so I’m probably in the minority.

One of the star detectives on the King’s Lake squad is Serena Butler, a young policewoman who started her career in a shaky way but has since demonstrated great talent and drive. In Another Girl she’s working undercover. Her assignment is simply to get into a private club where, it’s suspected, drug business is being done. She manages that, but then one of the proprietors offers her a job as a courier. That opportunity to get on the inside is too tempting to resist.

Meanwhile, the body of an Asian man is found smashed up on a highway. Though at first it looks like a hit and run case, the medical examiner finds indications that the man was beaten to death, then dumped. Clues lead to suspicions of human trafficking and drugs… and eventually this case will hook up with Serena’s, which will contribute to her finding herself in mortal danger and out of communication…

My big problem with this whole new fashion of female-driven police novels is that I am not – and I’m pretty sure I’ll never be – comfortable with putting women in harm’s way. Here we have Serena fighting for her life, while her male colleagues sit back at the office, worrying and vowing revenge if anything happens to her. The author even makes so bold, toward the end, as to raise the Awful Question – Is it possible that men and women are different?

Anyway, Another Girl was an okay read, well-written and compelling like all Peter Grainger’s books. But personally I think I’ll wait for another DC Smith book.

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Sunday Singing: Jerusalem the Golden

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The last hymn of the month was written by Bernard of Cluny (12th century), who is thought to be French born to English parents. He is most known for this poetic work De contemptu mundi (“On Condemning the World”), written ~1140 and dedicated to the abbot of Cluny, Peter the Venerable. Englishman John Mason Neale (1818-1866) gave us this translation.

“Come, I will show you the Bride, the wife of the Lamb.” And he carried me away in the Spirit to a great, high mountain, and showed me the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God, having the glory of God, its radiance like a most rare jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal. (Rev. 21:9-11 ESV)

1 Jerusalem the golden, with milk and honey blest,
beneath your contemplation sink heart and voice oppressed.
I know not, O I know not, what joys await us there;
what radiancy of glory, what bliss beyond compare.

2 They stand, those halls of Zion, all jubilant with song,
and bright with many an angel, and all the martyr throng.
The Prince is ever in them, the daylight is serene;
the pastures of the blessed are decked in glorious sheen.

3 There is the throne of David; and there, from care released,
the song of them that triumph, the shout of them that feast;
and they who with their Leader have conquered in the fight,
forever and forever are clad in robes of white.

4 O sweet and blessed country, the home of God’s elect!
O sweet and blessed country, that eager hearts expect!
Jesus, in mercy bring us to that dear land of rest;
who art, with God the Father and Spirit, ever blest.

Blogs, Socials, Coffee, Tea, Drinks, Fiction, Poetry

Old Book Love, a Pub Renewed, and More

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Here’s a Thoroughly Professional Video showing a couple of my antique books. They aren’t commercially valuable, but they’re pretty and have the humanistic value of a great books. On the left is the Complete Works of Shakespeare, a Walter J. Black edition, which I think means it’s cheap. I say it’s leather bound, but I’m sure it’s imitation leather. On the right is the Works of Edmund Spenser, an 1895 MacMillan edition.

It’s too bad I don’t have something really nice to show you, but I may record more physical books to better reveal their tangible value, especially if I can up my A/V quality.

Inklings: “The Ellison Institute of Technology (EIT) has purchased the historic Eagle and Child pub on St Giles’ from St John’s College, with plans to refurbish and reopen the space to the public.”

Poetry: From Philip Larkin
“For nations vague as weed,
For nomads among stones,
Small-statured cross-faced tribes
And cobble-close families
In mill-towns on dark mornings
Life is slow dying.”

Horror: Mike Duran has written on horror stories and how they fit with a Christian worldview.

Also, some of the story of the man who portrayed Father Damien Karras in The Exorcist.

(Photo: “The Eagle and Child,” Hofendorf/ Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 4.0)

Fiction, Reading, Reviews

Saga reading report: ‘The Tale of the Story-wise Icelander,’ and ‘Ivar Ingamundarson’s Tale’

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12th Century bust of King Eystein I of Norway.

I have a couple more saga tales for you tonight, and then I expect I’ll be able to do some regular reviews again. I have finished at last the endless book I was reading (which will be reviewed elsewhere) and am back on my usual reading schedule. Except that I’m busy with a couple projects too. And that’s a nice problem to have, especially after this year of idleness and indigence.

Anyway, each of tonight’s two tales from The Complete Sagas of Icelanders is short, but they also offer points of interest.

The first tale is peculiar in that neither the Icelandic hero nor the king he served is mentioned by name. However, it’s not impossible to guess the latter.

“The Tale of the Story-wise Icelander” introduces us to an unnamed young Icelandic man who goes to Norway to serve an unidentified king. When the king asks him what he can offer in return for a place at his table, he says he knows many stories he can tell. Given the chance to “sing” for his supper, he proves to be as good a raconteur as advertised.

However, as Christmas approaches, the king notices that the young man’s spirits are low. The king guesses that he’s run out of stories. The young man admits that he has only one story left to tell, and he’s reluctant to repeat that one. It turns out it’s the story of the king’s own travels. The king says he’s particularly eager to hear this story. The young man may, he says, tell a part of it (serial-wise) every night during the Christmas season, and the king will help him to space the episodes out so they’ll last through the season.

When it’s all over, the young man is reluctant to hear what the king thought of it, but the king tells him he liked it very well. He asks where the young man heard it from, and the young man says he heard it from Halldor Snorrasson.

And that’s how we can figure out who the king is. Your average modern reader won’t know this, but you are fortunate to have me for your guide. For Halldor Snorrasson was a companion to King Harald Hardrada (who keeps turning up in these stories). Moreover, Halldor and Harald parted company under strained circumstances, Halldor not entirely sure Harald wasn’t planning to hang him.

So that’s the first story.

The second story is possibly my favorite saga fragment of them all. It’s a pure human interest story, featuring my favorite Norwegian king – who seems to have invented modern counseling techniques in the 12th Century. King Eystein I was the quieter brother of King Sigurd the Crusader, and left a reputation for kindness and Christian charity.

The story is called “Ivar Ingamundarson’s Tale.” Ivar was a member of King Eystein’s court, a poet and a friend to him. He had a brother who came to join him in Norway, but soon grew jealous of Ivar’s place at court and decided to go home. Ivar asked him to give his love to the girl he hoped to marry in Iceland, but the brother, out of jealousy, courted the girl himself and married her. When Ivar learned this, he was plunged into depression.

King Eystein, noticing this, asked Ivar what he could do to help. He made a number of suggestions – he could introduce him to some nice girls; he could give him property to manage; he could give him money to travel. Ivar isn’t interested in any of these things.

Now read this speech, from King Eystein’s mouth:

“It’s getting difficult for me now because I have tried everything I can think of. There’s only one thing left now and it’s not worth much compared to those which I’ve already offered, and yet one can never tell what’s best. So come and see me every day after the meal when I am not engaged in urgent business and I will chat with you. We’ll talk about this woman in every way you like and we can think of. I’ll make time for this, because it sometimes happens that people can cope more easily with their grief by talking about it. And I’ll also make sure that you never leave my presence without a gift.”

It probably won’t surprise you to learn that this plan worked, and after a time Ivar was his old self again.

Now I ask you – did you expect to find something like that in a 13th Century book?

Fiction, Reading, Reviews

Saga reading report: ‘Hreidar’s Tale’

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Saga illustration of King Magnus the Good.

More saga-licious awesomosity tonight, from The Complete Sagas of Icelanders. This entry is unquestionably a different kind of story – more of a “clever yokel” yarn than an epic of feud and vengeance.

Hreidar, our unlikely Icelandic hero, is (we are told) neither handsome nor intelligent. But he’s tall and strong, and a notably fast runner. He has a brother named Thord, who is good-looking and smart, but very short. They’ve inherited property from their father and are quite well to do – but Hreidar leaves the management of all that to his smarter brother.  He is, however, able to get his way when he wants it, simply because Thord lacks the strength to dominate him physically.

Hreidar decides he wants to accompany Thord on a merchant trip to Norway. He wants to meet Thord’s friend, King Haakon the Good, and to go somewhere where there are a lot of people around. Thord is dubious; he’s pretty sure Hreidar doesn’t know how to act in society – especially in a king’s court. But Hreidar asks him – essentially – “How you gonna stop me?” So Hreidar sails with Thord.

Once in Norway, Hreidar proceeds to act exactly as Thord has feared, but his disingenuous manner amuses Magnus, and he even manages to get himself invited to spend the winter in the king’s court. There he gradually acquires some polish, manages to kill one of the men who serve Magnus’ co-king, Harald Hardrada, and contrives (with the help of his remarkable speed as a runner) to get out of the country with his life and a nice profit.

According to Wikipedia, Hreidar’s Tale is considered by scholars one of the earliest written saga stories. My impression is that it may be based on true events, but probably got heavily embroidered over time. Full text (in a different translation) here.

Fiction, Reading, Reviews

Saga reading report: ‘The Tale of Brand the Generous’

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A Viking merchant. Painting by my friend Anders Kvaale Rue.

Tonight’s reading from The Complete Sagas of Icelanders is a short one, less than two pages long. It’s known as “The Tale of Brand the Generous.” This is a fairly neat little anecdote, so neat as to appear (to this reader) a little implausible.

We encounter here yet another Icelandic merchant who has traveled to Norway. He is known as Brand the Generous. He’s a friend to the skald Thjodolf, who repeatedly praises his generosity (a quality much prized in Norse culture) to King Harald (I assume this is Harald Hardrada).

Harald (who was, according to reports, pretty generous himself when it came to gifts, though stingy with food) gets sick of Thjodolf bragging about Brand all the time, and proposes a test.

First, he asks Thjodolf to go to Brand and demand his cloak on the king’s behalf. Thjodolf goes, and Brand gives up the cloak without a word.

Then the king sends him back to ask for Brand’s gold-inlaid axe. Brand once again surrenders the item, still saying nothing.

Finally, Harald sends Thjodolf back a third time (Thjodolf is sorry by now he brought the whole thing up) and asks for the shirt off Brand’s back. Brand removes the shirt and sends it with him, but rips one sleeve off first.

King Harald is pleased with this response. He says, “This man is both wise and high-minded. It is obvious to me why he tore off the sleeve. He thinks that I have only one arm that always takes and never gives….” Then he sends for Brand, whom he now showers with honors and fine gifts.

I suspect this is more of a fable than a true anecdote – or perhaps it just got polished in retelling. It serves as a practical lesson in etiquette for men in that culture, most especially for merchants, and I imagine that explains its popularity. (It’s found in three saga collections, according to the end note.)

Fiction, Reading, Reviews

Saga reading report: ‘The Tale of Audun From the West Fjords’

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The actual face of King Svein Estridsson of Denmark. Reconstruction by Danish scientists in 1911. Photo credit: Arne Kvitrud.

I’ll probably be reporting on several Icelandic saga tales for a few days now, while I finish reading the long book I’m working on – intended for review elsewhere, no less (!).

Tonight’s offering is one of the more charming tales in The Collected Sagas of Icelanders. I was already pretty familiar with it, as the late Magnus Magnusson included it in his long-ago cassette recording, Tales From Viking Times (no longer available). It’s called “The Tale of Audun From the West Fjords.” This story focuses on good manners and good luck, rather than martial prowess or (apparently) cunning, as a means to get ahead in the world.

Audun is a poor young Icelander who goes to work for a rich merchant in order to make his fortune. After some profitable dealings, he sails to Greenland, where he takes a flyer – he trades in everything he’s earned thus far for the ultimate prestige item – a polar bear. This he determines (for some unexplained reason) to transport as a gift to King Svein Estridsson of Denmark. That’s a big deal, as, at the time, a white bear carried about the same social cachet a Lear Jet does today (though a bear is probably less useful in day to day business).

We are not informed what security measures are required for carrying a live bear on a Viking knarr, but no doubt a muzzle was involved.

His ship puts in in Norway on the way, and Audun takes the bear with him to his rented lodgings (what else could he do?). King Harald Hardrada (cue ominous background music) gets word of the new guy in town with the expensive bear. He summons Audun to see him, and an interesting – indeed, classic – conversation follows.

King Harald first asks (just in case he’s dealing with a moron) whether Audun will give him the bear in return for the price he paid for it. Audun refuses.

Then Harald asks if he’ll sell it for twice what he paid. Again, Audun says no (politely, I have no doubt).

Finally, Harald asks Audun if he’ll make him a gift of the bear. Again, Audun turns him down, explaining that he’s made his mind up to take it to King Svein.

If you sense that this is, for Audun, the most dangerous moment in the story, you’ve learned something of Norse culture. This final bid is in fact the highest of them all. If Audun were to give Harald the bear as a pure gift, Harald would be obligated, under the rules of honor, to reciprocate with an equally generous reward. The reward would have to be as extravagant as a white bear was rare. (This was during the Medieval Warming Period, so no doubt contemporary Al Gores were warning of sea levels rising.)

Audun’s refusal is so audacious that interpreters disagree to this day as to what it signifies. Is Audun just too much the country bumpkin to understand that these kings, Harald and Svein, are mortal enemies, and that denying the bear to Harald in order to give it to Svein is likely to enrage Harald – well-known to be a merciless enemy? Or is he somehow counting on Harald’s sense of honor (a dangerous gamble, considering Harald’s ethics)? One is reminded of yesterday’s story of Thorleif the Earl’s Poet, where Thorleif refused Jarl Haakon in a similar situation and brought doom on himself.

However, Audun has caught Harald on one of his good days, and Harald lets him go, making him promise to come back on his way home and tell him how Svein responded to the gift.

Audun then proceeds to Denmark, where he’s received graciously by King Svein (who looks very good in this story), rewarded with gifts, and made part of his household. Then Svein subsidizes Audun on a pilgrimage to Rome, and in the end (I’m skipping stuff here – Wikipedia gives a synopsis) sends him home with a ship and other treasures. Audun keeps his promise to stop off and see Harald again, and Harald is once again a good sport. Audun goes home rich.

The Tale of Audun From the West Fjords is a delightful story, easy to like. It’s also very revealing about Viking Age values and mores.

My only complaint is the somewhat weak, literal translation used in this collection. Some very vivid dialogue is here rendered flat and bland.

Fiction, Reading, Reviews

Saga reading report: ‘The Tale of Thorleif, the Earl’s Poet.’

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Jarl Haakon, headed back to Norway from Denmark, jettisons a load of Christian priests who were forced on him. Illustration by Christian Krogh from Heimskringla.

Tonight, another report on one of the skalds’ sagas (technically a tale) from The Complete Sagas of Icelanders. “The Tale of Thorleif, the Earl’s Poet” is interesting primarily, I think, because of the picture it provides of its writers and editors. It’s taken from the 14th Century saga collection known as the Flatey Book (of which I’ve written here before). The tale may incorporate genuine old legendary material, but it’s been thoroughly massaged to conform to medieval Christian thinking.

The tale begins with a synopsis, in which the writer makes it extremely clear that (trigger warning!), although this story includes elements of heathen beliefs, magic, and cursing, the ultimate moral is going to be a good one – avoid that stuff or it’ll come back to bite you.

Our hero is Thorleif Asgeirsson, the son of a well-to-do Icelander, who shows early aptitude for poetry. After some preliminary adventures, he gets outlawed (learning magic while a fugitive) and manages to sail for Norway in a merchant ship his father buys for him and stocks with trading goods.

Thorleif arrives in Norway, where he meets the current ruler, Jarl Haakon (whom you may recall from The Year of the Warrior and Death’s Doors), at the wharf. Haakon offers to buy his cargo, but Thorleif prefers to offer his goods on the open market. His blunt refusal offends Haakon, who takes revenge by having his men burn Thorleif’s ship and steal all his goods. Thorleif then flees to King Svein Forkbeard in Denmark, and begins planning his magical revenge, which he achieves finally. However, the ultimate repercussions will bring disaster back on him.

The tale contains snippets of skaldic poetry, which probably indicates some basis in true events. However, the story as we have it is pretty fantastic. It contains, for instance, the old fairy tale motif of someone concealing a bag under his shirt (camouflaged by a false beard in this case), down which he shovels large quantities of food, amazing the spectators with his appetite. This motif is often capped in the fairy tales by the cutting open of the bag, mimicking disembowelment, allowing the hero to fake his own death – but nothing like that happens here.

Another point of interest is a mention of Thorgerd Altar-Bride (Holgabrud), who is identified as Jarl Haakon’s personal patron goddess. I’ve read of Thorgerd (who may be Freya under a different name) elsewhere, but I think this was the first time I’ve come across her in an actual saga story (Snorri never mentions her in Heimskringla). If this were the only source of information about her, I’d wonder if she wasn’t just an authorial invention – but I think she’s mentioned in at least one other place in Flatey Book. Just another indication of how much knowledge has been lost about Viking religion.

Final verdict: “The Tale of Thorleif, the Earl’s Poet” is not a well-told story. And it’s not very plausible as a historical source either. But it does offer some points for the curious to ponder.

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Sunday Singing: When This Passing World Is Done

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In 1837, the influential Scottish preacher Robert Murray McCheyne wrote today’s hymn of looking to the next life in faith.

“Therefore I tell you, her sins, iwhich are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little” (Luke 7:47 ESV).

1 When this passing world is done,
when has sunk yon glaring sun,
when we stand with Christ on high
looking o’er life’s history,
then, Lord, shall I fully know,
not till then, how much I owe.

2 When I hear the wicked call
on the rocks and hills to fall,
when I see them start and shrink
on the fiery deluge brink,
then, Lord, shall I fully know,
not till then, how much I owe.

3 When I stand before the throne,
dressed in beauty not my own,
when I see thee as thou art,
love thee with unsinning heart,
then, Lord, shall I fully know,
not till then, how much I owe.

4 When the praise of heav’n I hear,
loud as thunders to the ear,
loud as many waters’ noise,
sweet as harp’s melodious voice,
then, Lord, shall I fully know,
not till then, how much I owe.

5 Chosen not for good in me,
wakened up from wrath to flee,
hidden in the Savior’s side,
by the Spirit sanctified,
teach me, Lord, on earth to show,
by my love, how much I owe.