The Greenlanders

by Jane Smiley

  One day it happened that Thorkel Gellison appeared with two of his servingmen, saying that his wife Jona was ill, and wished to have Johanna with her for a few days, but after Thorkel and Gunnar had talked for a while, it came out that Jona was not very unwell, and still perfectly capable of getting about the steading and doing her work. In fact, she had been more ill earlier in the summer, and had not thought to call upon Johanna. Now Gunnar wished to know the real purpose of Thorkel’s visit, and Thorkel admitted that he intended to persuade Gunnar to allow Kollgrim, at least, if not Kollgrim and Helga, to take over the abandoned steading, for, he said, Kollgrim was a much steadier fellow than he had once been, and he needed but some additional cares to mold him into a proper man. Such an effect had taken place with Gunnar himself, in the year of the vomiting ill, and Kollgrim was already five or six winters older than Gunnar had been then. The boy, folk said, lived too close to his mother and his father, and they watched over him, folk also said, as if he were a child. In addition to this, many folk in Vatna Hverfi district would be relieved at the occupation of the steading, especially by Vatna Hverfi folk and not by strangers from the north. Folk who knew Bjorn Bollason and Signy considered them well enough, and Bjorn Bollason seemed to be enterprising as lawspeaker, whether or not he actually knew all of the laws, but he and Signy were alert and pushing in that northern way, not so pleasant to be with, and yet always offering this and that or making invitations. And the fact was that they would think so well of themselves if they got into Gunnars Stead that they would be unbearable. Now Gunnar laughed and said that they did not think of such things in an out-of-the way place like Hvalsey Fjord, and Thorkel laughed in return and said that the Hvalsey Fjorders had always been proud of their humility, and that was a fact, and the conversation died.

  The case was, that Gunnar was much angered at Kollgrim for putting his scheme to Thorkel, but in this as in all things, he thought, Kollgrim had gotten the better of him, for he owed such a debt to Thorkel that he could never simply dismiss any of Thorkel’s wishes, and besides that, Thorkel was a much older man, now, and Gunnar looked forward to his death with dread. Even so, he considered that Kollgrim showed little wisdom in this plan, whether or not he felt much antagonism toward Jon Andres Erlendsson, and it was hard to know Kollgrim’s real feelings on this score. On the one hand, a man could live with neighbors who were enemies. Many had, and through such generations as had lived in Greenland, every family had fought with their neighbors, and even killed their neighbors at one time or another. In addition to this, Ofeig and the other members of the band of mischief-makers had gone off long ago, and in fact it was not known exactly where Ofeig was. Some folk said he had taken up residence as an outlaw in some of the abandoned farmsteads in Alptafjord. On the other hand, however, Kollgrim flew to trouble as sparks fly upward, and Gunnar had little faith in the effect of new cares upon him. There was a difference between going off to live with an indulgent older sister and in taking a childish and dependent wife onto a farmstead where there was already such a husbandman as Olaf had been and such a housekeeper as Margret had been. Even so, Gunnar did not know how to stand against Thorkel, except by saying that he could not divide his flock or his servingfolk, and that Gunnars Stead was much too big to be taken on by two such as Kollgrim and Helga. And Thorkel said no more, except that if a way was found around these difficulties, he himself would send a pair of horses over to the steading. Now discussion of this scheme ended, and Kollgrim seemed to be reconciled to his father, and the autumn came on. Kollgrim went on the seal hunt, and brought back a great deal of meat, and things were quiet for the winter. Gunnar suspected, though, that he had not heard the last of proposals concerning Gunnars Stead and he looked forward to the spring with some misgiving.

  At Easter, one of Gunnar’s neighbors, an old man named Thorolf, with two daughters and three sons, came to Gunnar and said that he intended to go away from his steading and seek service, for his oldest son wished to take over the steading. But the steading was much shrunk, and could not support as many folk as it had. Therefore, he himself was seeking service, and one of his sons and both of his daughters as well, and Gunnar took them on, with a great sinking of his heart.

  Now, shortly after this, at about the time when the ice was breaking up and blowing out of the fjords, another neighbor of Gunnar’s came to Lavrans Stead. This was Hakon Haraldsson, and he was driving before him some twenty ewes and lambs, all fine beasts, and he left them in the care of his small son, to mill about in front of the steading while he sought out Gunnar. “Now, neighbor,” he said, “I have come to pay my debt to you and Birgitta Lavransdottir. I bring back such beasts as you and she once sent to my steading, when we were in poor straits and looked forward only to a slow and painful death. But now things have changed, and we have many fine beasts, and not enough pasturage for them all, and so you must take them, and not turn them down as you did two summers ago.” And Hakon was very proud of the beasts, and of the largess he showed in making his gift, and Gunnar could not therefore turn it down, but his heart sank again. And so it was that Kollgrim and Helga were allowed to carry out their scheme, and claim as abandoned the ancient farm of Gunnars Stead in Vatna Hverfi district.

  Now it happened that on the night before they were to take their sheep and their furnishings in the big boat around the point of Hvalsey Fjord and up Einars Fjord, just as Birgitta and Gunnar had done some thirty-three summers before, Helga stayed up praying for the whole night, for she could in no way cause sleep to come to her, but she did not know whether she was praying for the move or against it, so confused did she find herself. She had dutifully fulfilled both of her promises to Kollgrim for many months. She had spoken not a word against his scheme, although she saw that Gunnar wished her to, but she had prayed against it, or else for a sign that it was opportune, every night. There was none, except, perhaps, for the fact that it went forward in such a way, with old Thorolf coming to them at Easter of his own will, and then with Hakon bringing the sheep of his own will, that the signs seemed to be for it. Against this, however, was Kollgrim’s manner, for there was no doubt that he was greatly agitated, and thought less of the steading that he was to take over than of the neighbor he was to live beside.

  In her heart, Helga, too, thought often of Jon Andres Erlendsson, for the sight of him was uniquely pleasing to her, and she could not square this with what she had heard of his evil nature. She remembered how folk speak of the way that the Devil comes smiling among folk, but such a smile as Jon Andres’ smile was not what she had pictured all her life as the Devil’s smile. Now on the night before her departure, she went to Gunnar and she said, “I am much afraid of our neighbor.”

  “It is unlikely that he will harm you, now that he has given up his riotous companions. It may be that you will not see him from season to season, if you keep to your own steading and attend to your tasks. The farms are not so close that you must look into one another’s byres,” replied Gunnar. Behind him, Birgitta rustled about in her bedcloset.

  “I had not thought that he would come to Gunnars Stead and harm us. But I am afraid of his nearness. I am sure that I will walk upon that part of our steading that lies by his with trembling.”

  Now Gunnar chuckled shortly. “Indeed, my Helga, he is but a man. There is no tale that he has to do with witchcraft. If you are willing to go into the air of that unlucky steading, then you may certainly endure whatever emanations float from Ketils Stead. My fear is that Kollgrim will look and look for enmity from that quarter, and find it soon enough. There is your danger, and you may tell me from your friendship with your brother whether you think my fear is well founded.”

  Now the memory of Kollgrim’s grip upon her hand rose in Helga’s mind, and she was on the point of relating the incident, when Kollgrim himself pushed open the door of the steading and came into the room. He entered with much self-importance, his shoulders square and his back straight, and he addressed Gunnar about the new servant, Thorolf Bessason, in a calm and m
anly fashion, without any of the resentful manner that had tinged his demeanor toward Gunnar for as long as Helga had known him. When he went out again, Helga was silent. It is often said that strangers see more in a man than his family does, and many Greenlanders once went off to other lands and made much of themselves, and so Helga thought of Thorkel and the portent of Hakon’s sheep, and returned to her chamber without encouraging Gunnar’s doubts.

  Later, when Gunnar climbed into the bedcloset, Birgitta said, “Their fates are their own, as Gunnhild’s, Astrid’s, and Maria’s were. It seemed to me once that I saw early deaths for them, but they are grown and strong, and have survived what others have not survived. Perhaps what I saw was as false a promise as the vision of the Virgin and Child I had. At any rate, I have no uneasiness about them, although I thought that I would.” And Gunnar was comforted by this news. The morning dawned clear and calm, and Kollgrim, Helga, Thorolf, and his daughter Elisabet set out in the large Lavrans Stead boat with twelve ewes and their lambs.

  There was a man in Brattahlid district, who claimed the lineage of Erik the Red, through Erik’s son Thorstein and a concubine named Thorunn. This man did not have his own farmstead until after the hunger, but lived as a servant to Ragnleif Isleifsson, and he was known as a bombastic sort of fellow. He had no wife, and his name was Larus Thorvaldsson. After the hunger, Larus, who was not a bad husbandman for all his unpleasant manner, claimed a small farmstead and also offered himself in marriage to a widow named Ashild who had one child and some livestock. One day during the same summer that Kollgrim moved to Gunnars Stead, Larus Thorvaldsson came to Ragnleif’s steading on a visit, and began to talk a great deal about the desires and strictures of God Himself. Larus declared that God had presented Himself at Larus Stead three nights running, around the time of Easter, and had spoken clearly to him about many matters. One of these was that the old priest who was kept at Gardar was the Devil himself, and that the servants and the other priests there did him homage. Folk laughed at this news, but listened more carefully to other things, namely that in three years, a ship would land in Greenland, and it would carry many Icelanders, and also that God had reviled both the Roman pope and the French pope, and had not allowed anyone into Heaven who had died since the beginning of the schism, for the real pope hid himself in Jerusalem, and would soon burst forth with such a light that it would be visible and known even to the Greenlanders. He said much more in this vein, and some folk laughed at him and some folk did not. After a few days at Ragnleif’s steading he went home again. Even so, he was much talked of in Brattahlid through the summer.

  It was the duty and right of every steading to send a man, at least, with arrows, or some other weapons, to the spring and autumn seal hunts, and those steadings with serviceable boats were required to send these also. Such was a new law made by the Thing shortly after the passing of the hunger. What once had been custom was now compulsion, for there were few men in Greenland and fewer boats, and every one was needed if folk were to have enough meat for the winter. This autumn was the first Larus Thorvaldsson spent on his own steading, and as he was the only man there, he was the one who had to attend the hunt, although he had never done so before. It happened that Larus made of this hunt an opportunity to expound upon the views of God about the ways of the Greenlanders, and their futures. It was not, Larus said, that the popes of Rome and Avignon could not or would not approve a new bishop for the see of Gardar, or even that the archbishop of Nidaros was negligent, but that the church itself was being overthrown in Europe, even as the Greenlanders were now speaking of it, and priests and nuns and bishops and archbishops were being tossed out of their pits of corruption and dispossessed of their sinful wealth. When the ship that was coming should arrive, it would carry the tidings of a new age. No priests would stand between the pope of Jerusalem and the faithful folk. God would give up Latin and speak in the tongue of the people. Each man would give himself and his family the meat of communion. So Larus spoke, wandering among the seal hunters as they sat about each evening after their work, and although it is not the way of Greenlanders to allow fear much entrance, some shifted in their seats and looked about themselves, for they were afraid.

  Larus Thorvaldsson could not be moved from his tale that God had come onto his steading and spoken to him. He had sat upon the bench with Larus and Ashild and little Tota and partaken of their sourmilk and their new goat cheese. He had filled Larus’ bedcloset with light. He had turned rotten meat back to fresh, folk could come back to his steading and see the meat itself. He had spoken in a low, golden tone. When Larus had asked Him why He had come to him, Larus, and not to someone else, He had laughed and said that Larus was as good as anyone else, was he not? All souls look the same to God, who sees not the carapace of self men wear in the world. And although some folk quizzed Larus on these particulars, saying that he was known as a great liar, he was firm in his relation of them, and even folk from Brattahlid, who were the most inclined to laugh, held their peace. Later in the fall, long after the seal hunt, three servingmen came to Larus Stead and summoned Larus, Ashild, and Tota to Solar Fell, for Bjorn Bollason, who had not himself participated in the seal hunt but sent some of his servingmen, was very curious about the tales Larus had to tell.

  Now Larus was brought into the steading and put into a small chamber and left there. Ashild and Tota were given a bite to eat, and put into another small chamber with a little lamp for light and heat. After some time, Sira Eindridi Andresson, the hardest man that Gardar had to offer these days, came in to Larus, and spoke to him, and elicited his story from him, and then declared that such tales were heretical lies, and described in colorful terms the fate of souls convicted of heresy, how they would be ground into small bits and rendered in the fires of hell and pierced and poked and sliced and mashed, for as long as all eternity, which was so long that all the generations of men since the time of Erik the Red were as an eyeblink in a whole life. But Larus, although he wept and cried out, did not depart from his tale.

  Now Larus was taken into the greatest chamber in the steading, and Bjorn Bollason the lawspeaker was seated in the high seat, with Sira Eindridi beside him, and Bjorn Bollason himself commenced to question Larus, and to tell him what the law requires of men who perjure themselves about the Lord. It requires their property, down to the last rag upon their backs, the last broken spoon in their pockets. It requires that they be outlawed, and sent to the ice and the barrens above the settlement. It requires that their steadings be burnt up, so that no one else will go into that evil place. It requires that salt water be hauled up from the fjord and dumped upon their homefield. It requires that their wives take other husbands and their children assume the names of bastards. Now Larus begged that these punishments not be brought to bear upon him, for it was not his desire or doing that the Lord should appear to him and tell him anything, “For,” he said, “when great folk tell you anything, they blame you for it afterwards.”

  Now Ashild was brought forth, and she, too, was told what the law requires of heretical liars, and she too was reduced to begging for Larus’ life. But, indeed, she was not moved from her tale that she had dipped up sourmilk for the Lord Himself twice a day for three days, and that she had washed His spoon and put it away in His spoon case, and a plain spoon it was, simple horn, like anyone’s spoon.

  Now little Tota, who was five winters old, was brought forth and made to sit down upon the bench, and she was asked what the visitor had done when He was among them, and she said that He had taken her upon His knee and also that He had turned the meat she didn’t like back to good again. After this, the three were taken again to their two chambers, and Bjorn Bollason and Sira Eindridi conferred.

  Now it was the case that Bjorn Bollason regretted the death of Sira Isleif, for although he had spoken to Larus with great force, he was not really certain what the law was in these matters, and how far he should carry out the threats he had made against a fellow who was so firm in his convictions. The fact was that Bjorn Bol
lason was somewhat reluctant to punish Larus, and wished that he had not brought the man to Solar Fell, but had ignored the predictions. Sira Eindridi said that the fellow might be tortured and made to confess that he was telling lies, but of course this had to be done by Bjorn Bollason rather than by Gardar, for the Church does not engage in torture of the souls in her keeping. Now Bjorn Bollason bethought himself, and tried to remember as much as possible of the laws, and after a while he said that it seemed to him that the Thing itself had never ordered torture of anyone, but that folk who were to be tortured had been in the hands of the king of Norway’s representative. Sigurd Kollbeinsson, it was said, had had a fellow tortured. Some hot irons were applied to the palms of his hands, he thought. He could not remember the nature of the crime. Of course, both he and Sira Eindridi were but children in the days of Sigurd Kollbeinsson. Now Bjorn Bollason called one of his sons to him, and told him to beg a conference with his foster father, Hoskuld.

  Hoskuld came to the men with difficulty, for he was much afflicted with the joint ill. He had little to say of Larus, except that the fellow was a nuisance. He could not remember anything about torture in the time of Sigurd Kollbeinsson. Then he began to complain of pains in his hips from sitting, and he was led away to his bedcloset. Bjorn Bollason and Eindridi sat in thought for a while, then Bjorn Bollason suggested that if they chose to torture the man, then they must torture the woman and the child as well, since both of them held tightly to their stories. Now Bjorn Bollason said that such wild fellows as this Larus, and also Ofeig Thorkelsson of Vatna Hverfi, seemed to be about more than they once were, and the men fell silent again. After this, Sira Eindridi suggested that they pray over the problem for a while, and they did so, until it was almost dusk, and time for the evening meat, but Bjorn Bollason would not allow anyone in the steading to eat until a decision was reached, as at the Thing.