Njord and Skadi

by Sheena McGrath

  As a sidelight on the worship of Thorgerdr, it should be mentioned that Jarl Hákon Sigurðarson (c. 937 – 995) was a particular follower of hers. He was a devoted enough pagan that although he was a vassal of Harald Bluetooth, Hákon ended his loyalty to Harald and Denmark rather than become a Christian. The Danes did not take this lying down, and later tried to invade, an event recorded in the Jómsvíkinga saga. However, the invasion, led by the Jomsvikings, was defeated. (Apart from the actual Jómsvíkinga saga, an account called Jómsvíkinga þáttr in Flt gives Thordgerdr and her sister Irpa the credit for repelling the invasion, after Jarl Hakon invokes their aid.)

  Jarl Hakon was well-known for following Thorgerdr and Irpa, and perhaps (apart from victory in battle) the reason lies in his personal history. As Adam of Bremen put it:

  Exceedingly cruel, this Haakon, of the stock of Ivar and descended from a race of giants...[234]

  Clearly he wishes to underline what he sees as Hakon's savagery, a pagan Northerner descended from Ivarr the Boneless (also known for cruelty) and, before that, giants. Not civilized at all, at all.

  The giant he was referring to was, of course, Skadi, the mother of Saeming, the first of the Jarls of Hladir. Hakon was the de facto ruler of Norway from 975 to 995, so he was clearly someone to reckon with in the North of Europe. That may go some way to explain the descriptions of rich temples and gold and silver offerings to Thorgerdr. Davidson thinks that Skadi was popular in Halogaland because of the Sami population in Norway, and that her myth might indicate a split between her cult and the Vanic one.[235]

  Skadi's father may also have had a cult, although now we're speculating. Many have seen the incident in Hst in which Hoenir sets the "holy table" and Thiazi, after tricking the Aesir by keeping their meat from cooking, takes most of the now-roasted ox, as a memory of a jotunn-cult. Paxson thinks that the giants' cult would have flourished in the sort of wild places normally associated with Jotunheimar[236], and similarly Lotte Motz considers that many giants were rulers of the wilderness similar to the ones found in Sami and other circumpolar cultures[237], spirits like the Inuit Sedna or Sami Meilikki.

  Readers may object that Thiazi's actions were anything but helpful, and he seems to have set himself as an enemy of the gods. (The theory that holds that the problem in relations between gods and giants is the gods' unwillingness to have exchanges of goods and women with them could reply that Thiazi, having tested them, saw that the only way to get what he wanted was to steal it.) It could also be argued that Thiazi saw himself as teaching the gods to respect the rules of Utgard, and make offerings to the powers that ruled it. Motz gives other instances in which humans wandering in the wilderness were approached by giants who demanded offerings of food or warned people off taking particular animals.[238]

  There are, however, many instances of jotunns being helpful to gods and humans. The giantess Gridr gives Thor a magical staff and gloves, which help him to avoid being killed by Geirrodr and his family. Thorgerdr we have already discussed, and Vargeisa gives the hero Hjalmper a wonderful sword. (Motz notes that in the same way there are spirits that form erotic relationships with hunters who are then given luck in hunting and supernatural protection.[239]) Hyrrokin is another example of a helpful giantess, who turns out to be stronger than Thor.

  As Motz points out, many giants and giantesses have names that reflect natural phenomena, so perhaps they were seen as having power over them.

  Skrimnir and Grimnir are two giants who cause unfavourable winds to blow ships onto the shore, while giantesses named Torfa and Hildr do the opposite for friendly humans. Thorri, a giant king, sends snow. Thorgerdr created a hailstorm to help Jarl Hakon in battle. Often, too, "darkness, fog, and sudden snow"[240] presage a meeting with a giant.

  This goes with the many giant names related to weather:

  Leidi: fair wind,

  Gusir, gustr, "gust, blast of wind"

  Vindr - wind

  Vindsvalir - "the cold of wind"

  Hrmnir, Hrimthurs, Hrimgrimnir - hrim, "frost"

  Hrimgerdr - hrim, "frost"

  Mjoll, Driffa, Fonn - "snow"

  Furthermore, Motz thinks that these giants tend to be localized, like the numina of the Sami, who also tend to protect particular areas. In the same way there are offerings to Surtr of Surtshellir, to Thorgerdr and to Thorri.[241]

  There may even have been a general cult of the giantesses, to go with the cult of the disir, although once again we enter the realm of speculation here. It depends on interpretation. Apart from Skadi, there are several giantesses whose name includes the word -dis, Bergdis, Eydis, Glamdis, Skjalddis and Thordis. [242]

  As I discussed in the section on Giant-Girls, there does exist evidence of what may have been a giantess-cult. But it is written as a story of Christian conversion, like the stories about Thorgerd, and it is rather late. The Volsathattir, included in the Flt, tells the story of what seems like either an act of very odd worship or possibly a prank, involving a horse's penis. The penis in question was supposedly sanctified to the mornir, which is the part that needs interpretation (in more ways than one). It could mean:

  (1) morn, masc. sing., meaning 'sword' testified among sword-heiti in SnE.

  (2) mornir, fem. pl., meaning "giantesses'. This meaning is best exemplified in the sources: Sn.E. Thulur; Hst 6; Thorsdrapa; Sturl. saga I, 280.

  The consensus seems to favour the plural form, so we have to ask ourselves if this is some sort of cult of the giantesses, or a fertility cult of some kind. Folke Strom thinks that the mornir and disir are the same, so that it would be an offering to a collective of female powers, probably for fertility. Steinsland thinks that it is an indication of the sort of cult that was associated with the giants, making offerings towards them to keep the destructive aspect of their power at bay.[243]

  Both Steinsland and Welshbach think that the images found on various stones in Scandinavia may represent the giantesses. Welshbach links the "snake-witch" stone from Gotland to Skadi. As she says, it is not clear that Skadi has anything to do with the actual stone, but the image of a female holding a snake in either hand does make one think of the binding of Loki. It is easy to make a picture in the mind's eye of Loki tied down and Skadi approaching him with a snake writhing in her grip. Welshbach relates this to the little bronze statue from Grevensvænge in Denmark, of a woman in a corded skirt, which she says is holding a snake. She and Steinsland also instance the rune-stone image that is usually interpreted as an image of Hyrrokin. In the picture the woman riding the wolf has a snake for a rein, and two more snakes in her hands.[244]

  The snakes themselves make a statement about the giantesses. After all, snakes have their own reputation for magic, and, to the Norse mind, the biggest snake of them all was the Midgard Serpent. As a symbol of power that can both set limits and be chaotic it can't be equalled. It also underlines the outsiderness of giantesses, who, like snakes and wolves, are wild creatures that can harm, but might also be helpful if approached properly.

  In What Way Are the Giants "Chaotic"?

  Justifications for the enmity between gods and giants come in several forms. We have looked at the lack of reciprocity between them, and the resulting low-level hostilities between them that result from this. This lack, and hostilities generally, are often justified on the ground that the giants are chaotic, so "it's no use trying to deal with them", so to speak.

  But, from whose point of view are they chaotic? And how?

  As Lotte Motz and Margaret Clunies-Ross point out, the giants live in a recognizable social world, with families and other forms of relationships that mirror our own. The Thiazi and Skadi stories tell us that they recognize at least some of the same legal norms, namely inheritance and the requirements of bloodfeud.

  There are three reasons usually given to explain why the giants would be seen as chaotic. First, because they were created before the cosmos was, so they are chaotic by definition. (The same could be said of the Titans and Tiamat's children.) Second, becaus
e while they have various goods and specialized knowledge, they don't put them to productive use the way the gods do. A corollary to this is that when the gods and giants do interact, their giant appetites and lack of self-control militate against any sociability. Third, that their reproductive methods are an element of chaos, going against the ideology of creation.

  1. The giants, like the Titans, Tiamat's children (often translated as "brood", with all its animalistic and horror-movie connotations) came first, before the cosmos was ordered, and therefore embody that inchoate, chaotic state in their own selves.

  2. This obviously justifies the raiding and killing and cheating that the gods do. The wisdom of Vafthrudnir, the ale-kettle of Hymir, the mead of poetry all have to be stolen from the giants, or tricked out of them, before it can be put to good use. (The mead of poetry is a strong example, as Suttung kept it locked away in a cave, where no one could use it.) When the giants and gods do try to co-exist, as with Thiazi taking most of the ox, or Hrungnir threatening to drink Valhalla dry, or Freyja's shuddering reaction to being married to a giant, we see that their appetites overstep the mark that gods and humans must keep to. (Of course, you could argue that gods and humans, not the giants, define the bounds, which handicaps them from the start.) Aegir is the exception, being able to feast with the Aesir without incident.

  3. Ymir, who represents an androgynous male being, symbolizes a state of undifferentiated sexual and physical existence. Born of venom, he and his creation have to be wrong. (Further, Uli Linke sees the "venom" that flows from Elivagar as symbolic of menstrual blood, which caused Thor such problems later. She sees the blood as contrasted with the benign milk flowing from the primaeval cow, Audhumla.)

  Of course, all these points are, as I have said, concerned with limits placed by the Aesir and the humans of Midgard. The building of an ordered cosmos with boundaries came literally at the expense of the giants; Ymir was killed and dismembered, and all but two of the rest of the giants were drowned in his blood. (From Odin's point of view, the creative power of the primeval androgyne was divided amongst the various parts of the cosmos, rather than creating mutants like the six-headed giant Ymir made.) Kristensen thinks that the gods deliberately turned their backs on their giant heritage to create an ordered cosmos, and as such Ymir and his kin had to be both figuratively and literally sacrificed to make the worlds. The creation of the cosmos, and of the categories "god" and "human" demanded it.

  Chapter 9

  Why do the Gods and Giants Interact at all?

  Reading the Norse myths in Edith Hamilton's book, a much younger me wondered why the gods and giants kept getting in one another's way. After all, if Ragnarok was going to be a war between the gods and giants, wouldn't it be much wiser to stay away from each other? It always seemed to end in tears, usually for the giants.

  As Clunies-Ross puts it:

  The gods live at the self-defined centre of the world, while the giants inhabit the periphery, often conceptualized as a cold, rocky landscape that must be approached by means of a long, arduous journey. Frequently the divine journeyer to giantland must either cross a body of water or assume the power of flight in order to gain access to his giant antagonist. Why, then, do these two groups of beings come into contact at all?[245]

  The simple answer is, of course, that otherwise there wouldn't be a story. If Aristotle was right and a story needs a protagonist and an antagonist, who are in conflict over some aim, then we have to bring the two aetts together to have a story.

  As Clunies-Ross goes on to say, each has things the other wants, and there is no simple mechanism of exchange by which the two parties can trade goods or knowledge. And, course, there is the exchange implied in marriage, which is totally tabooed, since the Aesir refuse to acknowledge their kinship with the giants. The Aesir want things the giants have, however. Odin comes to them for the mead of poetry, and for exchanges of lore and wisdom. Loki through his trickery gets Slepnir, among other boons. Thor, on the other hand, mainly fights giants, an activity he justifies as almost ecological, keeping the various species/races in balance.

  The relations between the Vanir and giants are more complex in some way, because on the one hand two of the top Vanir (we have to assume) are married to giants, but the Vanir are allied with the Aesir, and we know that Freyr fights the giant Beli at Ragnarok. (If we assume that Freyr's servant did indeed kill Gerdr's brother, then the two marriages are complicated by the fact that both Vanir are implicated in the deaths of their wives' relatives.) In addition Loki says that Njord was sent as a hostage to the giants, so we have to assume that there is some degree of reciprocity among the Vanir and giants that there isn't with the Aesir.

  The gods want things from the giants, but the giants also want things, or more accurately people, from the gods. Hrungnir wanted Freya and Sif, while the Master-Builder wanted Freya and the sun and moon. Thiazi wanted Idunn and especially the magical apples that went with her. (In a twist on this theme, the dwarf Alviss wanted Thor's daughter Thrud, leading to a sort of wisdom-contest between father and potential suitor.)

  There are incidents of cooperation between the two groups, but they are rare. The giantess Hyrrokin is the one who pushes Baldr's boat out to sea at his funeral, after being sent for as the only one who could do it. Even then, the entire Aesir had to intercede with Thor so he wouldn't kill her. (Gylf 49) The other notable incident is the feast of Aegir's, which Tyr and Thor had to fetch a brewing-cauldron for in Hymskvida. The story of the actual feast is told at the beginning of Skld, as a frame for Bragi's stories about the Aesir. (The fact that most of them are about how the Aesir tricked and defeated the jotunar seems a little tactless, but Aegir doesn't seem to mind.) It is interesting that both these incidents follow Baldr's death, as if they were part of one last effort to stave off Ragnarok by easing tensions between the two groups.

  Having said that, on the few occasions when giants did end up in Asgard, they were treated politely. Hrungnir, chasing after Odin, ends up riding into Asgard, where he is given ale (Freyja being the only one brave enough) and he boasts that he will take her and Sif and smash the place, which seems churlish. The Master-Builder also visited Asgard, when he made terms with the Aesir about their walls, and that seems to have gone off peacefully. (No doubt both parties went away thinking they'd tricked the other.)

  Of course, there are many stories about wars between a primordial race of beings like the giants and a newer, younger race that may well be descended from the older ones. The Greek Titans, the Mesopotamian Tiamat and her offspring, the Irish Fomorians, are all examples of this pattern.

  In Norse myth, the gods go to great lengths to separate themselves from the giants, going so far as to kill their maternal grandfather to construct an ordered cosmos from. The blood from his body nearly drowns all the rest of the giants, but some survive and soon there are lots more of them. So the gods build a wall around Asgard, as they took Ymir's eyebrows to make a boundary for Midgard. So you can see why they react with hostility at the giants' incursions; when you go to all the trouble of building an entire cosmos to keep your relatives out, it would be nice if they stayed out.

  And of course, there is the final interaction between the two lying at the back of all of this, when both gods and giants will perish. That makes the killing and raiding between the two parties much more serious. The story can be told in two ways. First, as Odin's attempts to gather intelligence about how it will happen, Loki's efforts, finally, to bring it on, and Thor's attempts to keep the giant outside the bounds the Aesir have defined. Second, you can see it from the giants' point of view, as frustrated attempts at exchange with their own kin, leading to raiding and other harassment, which is repaid with murder.

  As for the Vanir, they seem to occupy a strange position, passively inculpated in the murder of Thiazi, but apart enough that they can marry giant-women, which the Aesir will not or cannot do. Perhaps because they are not blood relations of the jotunns, their relationship with them can be less fraught wit
h complications and bad feeling.

  Chapter 10

  Who are the Vanir?

  There are really three main questions about the Vanir:

  1) who are they?

  2) how are they different from the Aesir? and

  3) where are the rest of them?

  To tackle the first, here is a quote from a dictionary of Norse myth:

  Fertility figures, who fought a war against the Aesir, and exchanged hostages. The god Njord was one of those who was given to the Aesir, and he and his two children, although formally counted among the Aesir, maintain their affiliation with their former kin. The Vanir are also indirectly involved in the myth of the mead of poetry, since Kvasir, from whose blood the mead was made, was himself first created from the shared spittle of the Aesir and Vanir with whom the truce was formally concluded.

  (Andy Orchard, Cassell's Dictionary of Norse Myth and Legend)

  Orchard's capsule description of the Vanir includes just about all the important elements. The main myth involving them is the war between them and the Aesir, and its consequences. I have already described the aftermath in the chapter on Njord, since he was one of the hostages exchanged between the two groups.