As with my other texts on mythology (Greek Mythology and Egyptian Mythology) I’ve found the most effective way to communicate the stories and religion of the Norse is through their stories.
Like many societies, much of Norse lore has been lost to the ages. However, there are a few good sources in this regard, specifically the Eddas. The Poetic Edda in particular is a treasure-trove of insight into the Norse belief system and, through that lens, the Norse way of life.
One thing worthy of mention here is that the central texts still extant on Norse Tradition, namely, the Poetic Edda and the Prose Edda, were written in the thirteenth century. The Tradition, however, was around long before that. As this is the case, much of the knowledge that we now have of the Norse is incomplete and, in some cases, the Poetic Edda disagrees with the Prose Edda. The Poetic Edda, as mentioned above, is particularly insightful, however, as it collects and shares many of the stories of the Norse people.
While this book is not a complete record of the Norse beliefs (and such a record is, to my knowledge, nonexistent,) it has been my pleasure to assemble some of the most pertinent and interesting myths of the Norse. We’ll find Odin on his many quests for knowledge and wisdom, the formation of the world out of the body of a giant and we even find Thor in a veiled wedding dress (no, seriously.) From the birth of the sun and moon to the berserkers of Valhalla to the eventual destruction and reformation of the nine worlds, the Norse Tradition tells of captivating gods and goddesses, of heroes and unmitigated disasters.
The pantheon of the Norse is large, like that of the Greeks, Romans and Egyptians. While some principal players such as Odin, Thor and Loki are well-fixed in the popular mindset, many others exist which are just as compelling. The Tradition of the Norse is filled with stories of valor and treachery, love and hatred, Valhalla and Hel. So, from the creation of the cosmos, according to the Norse, all the way through Ragnarök and beyond, I invite you to share this fascinating journey with me into one of the most iconic cultures the world has ever known.
CHAPTER 14
Creation of the Cosmos, the World, and the Gods
It is first necessary to point out that, unlike most creation myths, in the Norse Religion—simply referred to by its adherents of old as “the tradition”—the creation of the cosmos and the destruction thereof was not a one-time deal. After Ragnarök, that is, the apocalyptic war in which many of the gods would be killed, the world would begin anew. I mention this here, because there are certain aspects of Ragnarök which are good to know throughout the creation myth, as it’s something that the deities, demigods, etc. were aware of from the beginning. Ragnarök itself will be discussed in more detail later.
According to the Norse Tradition, the primordial universe was called Ginnungagap, the void (trans. gaping void.) Here, neither darkness nor light nor sound nor silence existed. Ginnungagap was immeasurably vast, said to extend in all directions infinitely (although, tradition also says that it was large enough to encompass a billion universes, had they existed. Either way, it was big—really, really big.)
From this primeval state of ultimately vast nothingness came two realms: Niflheimr (“house of mists,”) the realm of ice, located in the north, and Muspelheimr (alternatively, Muspell; “home of desolation”) the realm of fire located in the south of Ginnungagap.
Muspelheimr was a realm of eternally erupting volcanoes, thick, black smoke and flame. Winds blew smoke and volcanic exhaust throughout this realm. Muspelheimr was inhabited by the jötunn1, Surtr, a fire-demon who wielded a sword of unmeasurable power in preparation for Ragnarök—more on him later.
Niflheimr was the land of ice and freezing rain. Just as vast and extreme a realm as Muspelheimr, Niflheimr was also home to unyielding winds, which blew frozen precipitation throughout its area. Niflheimr was also home to Hvergelmir, the primordial river (trans. bubbling/boiling spring,) and Élivágar, the primordial spring (trans. waves of ice.) From these sources, all of the waters in existence would come.
Although the realms of Niflheimr and Muspelheimr were, initially, separate, over time, they both spread. It is where these forces of fire and ice would meet that is of primary concern to the tale.
Once the frigid materials of Niflheimr came into contact with the molten substances of Muspelheimr, a violent reaction occurred. The waters were thrown into the air, only to fall and mix with the incredibly hot elements below. From this process, the first of the jötnar was created. The jötunn was named Ymir (also referred to as Aurgelmir.)
The mixing of the fire and lava of Muspelheimr would continue to mix with the ice and water of Niflheimr, slowly melting that which was frozen and solidifying that which was molten.
Unlike most creation myths, Ymir, the first lifeform (other than Surtr, who seemed to spring out of the fires of Muspelheimr instantaneously,) laid without life for millennia. During this time, the composition of Ymir’s body continued to form and mix together.
As Ymir’s composition became more stable, he began to perspire. This perspiration formed the first of his children: a male and a female. After his feet mated with each other (now there’s a mental picture,) another offspring was produced: a male, six-headed jötunn. These jötnar would become the progenitors of the gods.
Now, at the same time that Ymir was forming, and the ice and snow of Niflheimr melted from the heat of the lava and fire of Muspelheimr, another being came into existence: Auðumbla, a cow. Auðumbla, who received her nourishment through salt contained within the ice, would be the source of food for Ymir who suckled from the cow’s teats.
As Auðumbla continued licking her way through the frozen-but-melting expanse, she began to lick the stones beneath the ice into the shape of a man; the first of the Aesir (also, Æsir) Gods: Buri. (Alternatively, some versions have her simply uncovering the already-formed god.)
From these beginnings, the ingredients and chief movers that would go on to create the gods, the worlds (all nine of them; more on that later) and all living things, were all present.
Now for a little genealogy (I’ll try to keep it brief): Buri produced a son named Bor. Bolthorn, a jötunn, produced a daughter named Bestla. Bor and Bestla would marry and give birth to the Aesir gods Odin (aka Wodan, Woden, or Wotan,) Vili and Ve (or Vé.)
Theories diverge on what led to the confrontation which led to the death of Ymir at the hands of Odin and his siblings (some say that it was a matter of usurpation, others, a noise complaint levied against the jötunn that got a little out of hand,) however, the result is the same. The blood of the slain jötunn was so vast that it would end up drowning all but one frost ogre (a type of jötunn.) The surviving frost ogre, Bergelmir, survived by climbing into a boat called a lur (alternately, by swimming through the blood, towing his wife behind by the latter’s hair.)
After killing Ymir, the three used different parts of the jötunn’s body to create existence as the Norse saw it: The blood of Ymir was used to create the oceans, his flesh became the soil and primary substance of the earth, stones were fashioned from his teeth, trees from his hair, mountains from his bones, the sky from his skull and the clouds from his brains.
The sky was held aloft by four dwarves2 named Nordri, Sudri, Austri, and Vestri3. Embers from Muspelheimr continued to float through the air, and so the three gods collected these and placed them in the skies to light the world.
The first humans were fashioned by Odin, Vili and Ve out of driftwood. The three gods bestowed upon humans gifts: Odin breathed life into them, Vili gave them knowledge and Ve gave them their physical appearance and their senses. These humans were named Askr (or Ask) and Embla.
The world of mankind, created of the slain jötunn’s body, was called Midgardr (or Midgard.) This land, though surrounded by the realm of giants (the Jötnar,) was protected by the three Aesirs by fashioning a fence from the jötunn’s eyelashes.
Midgard was located between the primeval realms of Niflheimr and Muspelheimr. The other eight worlds were generally invisible to the inhabitants of M
idgard, although there were times where other worlds could be perceived. One example of this is the connection between Midgard and Ásgardr (or Asgard,) the world of the gods, by a “rainbow bridge” called Bifrost.
So, we now have the world of the humans. As the other eight will be discussed to varying degrees later in the book, I’ll forego a close inspection of each here. However, it is helpful to know what each of these worlds were and which beings would call them home. They are as follows:
Midgard was the world of humans.
Ásgardr was the world of the Aesir gods.
Vanaheimr was the world of the Vanir gods.
Jötunheimr was the world of the Jötnar.
Álfheimr4 was the world of the elves.
Hel was the world of the dead or Náir5.
Svartálfar was the world of the Dvergar or dwarves.
Niflheimr was the world of ice.
Muspelheimr was the world of fire and lava, home to Surtr.
Now, the stage is set. In the next chapter, we’ll take a look at the major gods of Norse Tradition, and some of the important myths surrounding them.
CHAPTER 15
The Aesir-Vanir War and the Mead of Poetry
The Aesir-Vanir War
Although the Norse Tradition was home to a large and rather diverse group of gods and other beings, two groups of gods, the Aesir and the Vanir, through their battle and subsequent armistice would change the landscape of the pantheon.
It all starts with a woman named Gullveig. Gullveig was a völva6 and a practitioner of seidr (also called seid or seiðr,) a type of sorcery which was primarily in practice before the Christianization of modern-day Scandinavia. Seidr, while having many facets (most infamously a type of sex-magic,) was largely concerned with the divination and subsequent alteration of destiny.
The story begins with Gullveig making her way from place to place, world to world, plying her trade for the benefit (and gold) of various groups and individuals. When she7 reached Asgard, home of the Aesirs, she was an instant hit with the gods.
What happened next is fairly consistent throughout different sources, but the reasoning behind it is unclear; although there are a few theories.
In one version of the tale, the Aesirian gods, Odin in particular, are angered by the seeress’s admonitions regarding the power structure chosen by the Aesirs. Gullveig, being favored by the Vanirs, was to the Aesirs, a representative of those gods.
In a similar version, the main cause of conflict was that the Aesirs had become (or had simply always been) the sole recipients of the tributes paid the gods by mankind, and it was the advice of the seeress that they, the Aesirs, either pay tribute to the Vanirs, or allow a portion of the tribute to go to the same.
In yet another version, the seeress is actually the goddess Freya, who, being a practitioner and goddess of seidr, herself, had so impressed the court of the Aesirs that the latter found themselves disgusted with their own greed and willingness to subvert their laws and loyalties. They blamed the seeress for their own lust for the power which they desired for its potential to empower them. While this particular version may explain the connection between the Vanirs and the seeress, it’s not consistent with the Eddas.
Whatever the reason was, Odin shot his spear forth, striking, but not killing or inflicting permanent injury upon the woman. In their fury, the Aesirian gods stabbed the woman with their spears and burnt her alive not once, not twice, but three times. Each time, Gullveig would resurrect from the ashes. This did not make the Aesirians happy.
When they couldn’t kill the seeress, tensions began to build between the two groups of gods. At first, the Vanirs and the Aesirs tried to work out a diplomatic solution, but this ended in an impasse. The war itself isn’t explained in much detail, although, commonly, it’s stated that neither group could win definitive victory against the other. While the Aesirs fought by more conventional means, the Vanirs used sorcery and subterfuge as their method of attack.
It finally became apparent that neither group was likely to ever triumph over the other. So, they came together to forge a truce. It is with the truce and that which followed it that the Eddas were concerned.
The Prose Edda explains that, as a traditional show of unity and peace between the Aesirs and Vanirs, the two groups met and took turns spitting into a cauldron or vat. One of the things about the substances (even something as seemingly insignificant as saliva) of gods is that they’re never mundane.
Rather than simply dumping out the vat and possibly offending one another, they decided to put the swishing fluid to good use. Therefore, from their intermingling saliva, they created a man named Kvasir.
Kvasir and the Mead of Poetry
Now, being created from god-spit may not sound like the most promising of beginnings, but Kvasir was considered as quite possibly the wisest being (certainly the wisest human) in creation. It was written that there was no question for which he couldn’t provide an insightful, practical answer.
The Aesirs and Vanirs had learned their lesson about trying to take from or overthrow one another, and so Kvasir was allowed to roam freely. He travelled throughout Midgard, spreading knowledge and wisdom to all that he met.
One day, he came across two dwarves: Fjalar and Galar. These dwarves were, unbeknownst to the Kvasir, quite the murderous, anti-intellectual beings. They quickly killed Kvasir and collected his blood. As he was so endowed with wisdom, this virtue remained within his vital fluid. The two boiled it in the magic cauldron Odhrorir, and mixed it with honey (alternately, they enlist the giant Suttungr to add the nectar to the blood.) When approached about the fate of Kvasir, the dwarves said that he had choked (or suffocated) on his own intelligence. For two beings that harbored such distaste for intelligence and knowledge, the reply was really quite clever.
The mixture of blood and honey became “The Mead of Poetry.” Any who would drink of the fluid would gain the knowledge and understanding to become a poet or a scholar. This was safe enough in the hands of the dwarves, as, due to their anti-intellectualism, they didn’t have the desire to partake of it. However, it would be their lust for killing that would take the Mead of Poetry from their hands.
When the two decided that killing the wisest man hadn’t properly slaked their bloodlust, they went before the giant Gilling and offered to take him for a ride on their boat. (It must have been a rather large vessel.) Once at sea, the murderous pair capsized the boat and watched as Gilling drowned in the depths of the ocean.
As an act of anything but contrition, the two returned to the home of Gilling and informed his wife of her husband’s death. While Fjalar offered to take Gilling’s wife to visit the spot of her husband’s death (no doubt to dump her in the same spot,) Galar was growing weary of the wife’s sobbing. The second voyage was scrapped and the dwarves simply dispatched Gilling’s wife as she passed through the doorway of her home by dropping a millstone on her head.
The two psychotic dwarves rejoiced, but their mirth would be short-lived. For when Suttungr (a son of the murdered couple. Although not necessarily relevant to the rest of the story, he was rather drunk at the time. Alcohol and the ensuing drunkenness thereof was a fairly common occurrence in the stories of Norse Mythology) found out, he tracked the pair down and snatched them. He took them to a reef at low tide, with the full intention of letting the two drown in the very waters in which his father had.
The two dwarves, seeing Hel in their immediate future, quickly offered the jötunn the Mead of Poetry in exchange for their lives. Suttungr took the mead back to his home, the mountain Hnitbjörg, and placed it under the watchful eye of his daughter, Gunnlöd.
Odin
While there will be a great deal more about Odin throughout this book, as he was the chief deity of the Aesirs, he does play yet another role in the story of the Mead of Poetry.
Odin, along with being the chief deity of the Aesirs, was also a god of knowledge, royalty, berserker fury, battle, death, the arts (specifically language: the runic al
phabet and poetry,) healing and sorcery—although other attributions do exist, varying a bit from source to source. His wife was the goddess Frigg, with whom he bore Baldur (also Balder, Baldr,) Hod and Hermud; with Jord: Thor; with Rind: Váli (alternately, Valie); with the jötunn, Grid: Vidar (who would slay Fenrir the wolf, more on that later.) Odin had an eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, which was the fastest creature extant, and was capable of travelling between the nine worlds with ease.
Now, Odin was tireless when it came to the search for further knowledge and wisdom. When he became aware of the Mead of Poetry and its location within Hnitbjörg, he set out to claim it for his own. In order to do this, he employed quite the clever (if rather brutal) deception.
He began by traveling to the home of Baugi, the younger brother of Suttungr, disguised as a common farmer. Upon his arrival, he found nine farmhands tending to the fields. The god offered to sharpen the farmhands’ scythes for them, and the workers agreed.
Being the chief deity of, well, pretty much everything, he was able to sharpen the farmers’ scythes with such deft effectiveness that the men implored him to sell them the whetstone he had used. Odin agreed, but rather than simple trade or barter, the god tossed the whetstone into the air and, before it fell to the ground, the workers killed one another with the very scythes the deity had just sharpened.
Mythology: The Ancient Secrets of the Greeks, Egyptians, Vikings, and the Norse (Mythology, Gods, Myths, and Legends) Page 10
