Viking and Medieval Scandinavia

Of the many references to runes in the Poetic Edda, the depiction of the runic communication between Guðrún and Kostbera in the poem Atlamal in grœnlenzko is one of the most intriguing. This is due in part to certain authentic-sounding details, which have prompted a number of misguided attempts to reconstruct the message itself. In this article, I offer a reading of this much-discussed episode in light of the runic tradition in medieval Scandinavia and the treatment of the script elsewhere in the Edda, suggesting that rather than representing a realistic depiction of runic correspondence, it is best read as a poetic expression of contemporary concerns about long-distance communication within the North Atlantic littoral. In particular, I address the question of the conventional identification of this poem with Greenland, and examine the historical circumstances that may have occasioned the introduction of the runic subplot. I argue that the episode partakes in a sophisticated discourse about the possibilities and limitations of the written word, which can serve not only as a warning against the misreading of the runic message, but also against imprudent interpretations of literary texts.

This article argues that the tattir included in compilations of ÓláfsTryggvasonar en mesta do more than provide exemplary anecdotes about Óláfr Tryggvason; they are selfconsciously literary texts that engage with and challenge aspects of the main narrative. Most obviously, they contest Óláfr’s notoriously violent methods of conversion: Rögnvalds þáttr ok Rauðs can be read as a critical response to the deceit, killings, and violence that characterize saga accounts of Óláfr’s mission. Drawing on a biblical tradition of idol parody, it questions both the dangers of idolatry and the efficacy of its violent uprooting, suggesting instead that the real hindrances to conversion are guilt, secrecy, and sin. The compiler seems not only to have been aware of the tension between this þáttr and the main narrative but has drawn it out through verbal echoes, challenging his audience to reflect on these issues from different perspectives.

By the fifteenth century, the heroic poems of the Edda had all but been forgotten except as they are recorded in prose in Völsunga saga. Since the twelfth century there had existed kappakvadi, a genre of poetry consisting of lists of champions, but they only listed figures from the Íslendingasögur, Fornaldarsögur Norðurlanda, and riddarasögur. The lack of heroic poems was filled by new creations such as Krákumál and Völsungs rímur. Two eighteenth-century recreations of Eddic heroic poetry are translated and annotated: Gunnars slagur, by Gunnar Pálsson (1714-91), text is taken from Thorlacius and others 1967; Valagaldur Kráku, by the rimur-poet Árni Böðvarsson (1713-76), text prepared by Haukur Þorgeirsson from MS Lbs. 636, 4to.

In the Viking Age, Frisia was located geographically and culturally between the expanding Frankish and Viking worlds. The study of Viking Age Frisia and the relations between Frisians and Scandinavians in this period have traditionally been coloured by the perspective of Christian Frankish sources. In this article, other sources for Viking Age Frisia are investigated in order to shed light on the position of Frisians and their contacts with Scandinavia in the Viking Age. It will be argued that compared with the Frankish framework, a more nuanced picture emerges of Frisian-Viking relations, with Frisia as an intermediary between the Frankish and Viking spheres.

This article argues that allegory in Old Norse secular narrative was often less stringent than in religious texts, and that it may sometimes be helpful to consider it a ‘universal analogy’rather than allegory in any strict sense. Further, it is argued that a fragmented reception of texts was common in the Middle Ages, and that indications of allegorical interpretation in one part of a text need therefore not imply a similar understanding of the text as a whole. The main examples to illustrate these points are Óðinn’s hanging in the tree in Hávamál and Þórólfr Mostrarskegg’s temple in Eyrbyggja saga. Where traces of allegory can be found in secular texts, prefigurative functions dominate, but often with vaguer constituents than one finds in theological literature (for instance practices rather than objects or persons) and without obvious connections to other parts of the text.

The formulaic expression Þōrr vīgi appears on four rune-stone memorials spread across Denmark and southern Sweden, and another seven inscribed rune-stones from the same area similarly feature hammers - that is, symbols of Þórr. Amulets in the shape of small hammers are also well enough known from other Viking Age contexts, and Þórr’s name similarly appears in several runic charms, at least one of which is clearly an apotropaic expression. Þórr and his hammer are also associated with blessings in Gylfaginning and Þrymskviða. But Old Norse vigja has traditionally been assumed to represent a rather different notion of ‘consecration’ than the manner in which it seems to be reflected in such contexts; the inherited Germanic root *weih-/ weig- is related to Latin victima ‘victim, sacrifice’ - its primary meaning is not ‘bless’. Although used in later Christian contexts in a similar sense to consecratio, a closer investigation of the Old Germanic semantics of blessing and hallowing suggests a rather different understanding of vigja applied when this action was associated with Þórr and his iconic hammer.

As the Vikings raided the British Isles and Frankish territories, they eventually reached the Iberian Peninsula. The first known attack was in 844, but several more followed until the final decades of the eleventh century; at times, the territory may even have been deliberately targeted. Historical evidence is often unclear, but a few prolonged episodes, including taking of prisoners for ransom, and some details were recorded. Academic traditions have drawn on folklore and the popular fascination with Vikings in Iberia. The impact of the attacks appears to have been limited, especially in the Christian north, while in the south they may have contributed to the growth of the Andalus’ naval power.

This paper re-examines the passage in Gísla saga Súrssonar in which Gísli relates a pair of dream visions he has had regarding the killing of his brother-in-law Vésteinn. Gísli claims that the dreams point to the identity of Vésteinn’s murderer, who is traditionally viewed as being symbolized first by a viper (hǫggormr) and then a wolf (vargr), which bite Vésteinn to death. However, a close reading of the text reveals a number of incongruities, which suggest that the entire episode was composed and added on to an earlier version of the text, and that the reading of the viper and wolf as fetches, or representations of Vésteinn’s killer, was based on the misconstruing of a poetic fragment from another source.

During the age of the sagas, two technologies for winter travel were available: skis and bone skates. While skis are clearly referred to in Old Norse literature, references to bone ice-skates are rare. This conflicts with the archaeological evidence, which shows that both technologies were in use. An analysis of the relevant texts, focusing on the boasting contest in Magnússona saga, leads to the conclusion that bone skates were considered close relatives of skis. This is supported by two additional similarities between the two: the use of a single pole and the similar gliding motions of skaters and skiers. Both motions can be described using skríða, the function of which is analysed. This helps to explain why references to bone skates are rare in Old Norse literature and can be used to clarify two passages in the Poetic Edda.