Everyone is bound to follow their fate, and no one is so strong as to not be overcome by anyone.
Jeremy Jasper Owens, the translator of Trójumanna Saga from Old Norse, offered me a free review copy, which I gratefully accepted. I found it a novel reading experience. It told a familiar story in a different way (I wish I knew the Iliad better than I do; I read it long ago), but it offered a few difficulties as well.
Trójumanna Saga is not, as one would expect, an Icelandic adaptation of Homer. It turns out (I did not know this) that medieval scholars had a low opinion of Homer, and preferred a short Latin history called De excidio Troiae historia, which is the main source for this saga.
Most readers, I’m pretty sure, will be particularly impressed – as I was – by the differences they’ll find from the familiar story. First of all, the Greek gods become Norse – Zeus and Hera become Thor and Frigg (the gods don’t actually play a big part in this version, though). The story begins earlier here, with Jason’s voyage to seek the Golden Fleece. Hercules is a main Greek leader in the early stages of the war, and participates throughout. When “Helena” is abducted, there is no Paris, but a prince named Alexander.
Achilles is here, but he’s not invulnerable – he suffers several wounds before finally being killed. A group of Amazons (called Shield Maidens) show up to join the defense of Troy. When the walls are finally breached, there is no Trojan Horse – the city is betrayed from within, and (gratefully) the bloodshed is (apparently) less.
I’ve always been very adamant that Greek stories are very different from Norse stories. The Greek hero dies because of his Fatal Flaw, while the Norse hero dies because he’s fated to. Trójumanna Saga is thoroughly Norse in that regard – everyone in this world is a fatalist. Courageous because he (or she) is certain his (or her) death is predetermined and inescapable.
In terms of translation, there are difficulties in this work, and I asked the translator about them. He replied that he has produced as exact a translation as he could – including the weaknesses of the original text. There are moments here where something happens, but we’re not actually told about it. The writer just goes on to describe the aftermath, and you have to assume what happened. And there are a number of idiomatic expressions that are incomprehensible to the modern reader, unexplained.
In my own opinion as a translator, such moments should be clarified through text in brackets or footnotes. Mr. Owens has chosen not to do that, which suggests great confidence in his readers’ intelligence. That may be the right choice, but I think potential readers ought to be warned about it.
Trójumanna Saga is a peculiar and fascinating historical and literary artifact. Jeremy Jasper Owens deserves our thanks for producing it.