thematic thread
Women of the Norse World
The goader at her starkest: Þuríðr serves her sons stones instead of meat, shaming them into avenging their brother. The hvǫt — the whetting — is a woman's weapon, and the deadliest in the sagas.
Stones for meat
The deed still hangs fire — until Bardi's mother forces it. Þuríðr is the saga's unforgettable figure, and her scene is one of the great whettings (the hvǫt) of all Norse literature. When her sons sit to their breakfast with Hall still unavenged, she insists on serving them herself — and lays a stone on each man's trencher beside the meat.[1]
When they ask what the stones mean, she tells them: she reminds them that 'bigger was Hall your brother' cut down, and that they gnaw at their food while his killing goes unanswered — so they may as well gnaw stones.[2] It is shaming raised to an art: the mother using the dead son to drive the living ones, refusing them the comfort of a meal until they become the men vengeance requires. The goading woman runs all through the sagas — Bjargey rousing Howard, Guðrún and Hildigunn elsewhere — but Thurid's stones are the starkest image of it. The sons rise from that table bound for the heath.
The source text · 2
She let a stone go with the flesh-meat for each one of them; and they asked what that might betoken. She answereth: "Of that ye brethren have most which is no more likely for avail than are these stones (for food), insomuch as ye have not dared to avenge Hall your brother, such a man as he was; and far off have ye fallen away from your kinsmen, the men of great worth, who would not have sat down under such shame and disgrace as yea long while have done, and gotten the blame of many therefor."— heidarviga saga
Thurid serves each son a stone with the meat (Morris & Magnússon 1892).
She answereth: "No marvel is this, and nought hast thou to wonder thereat; for bigger was Hall thy brother caryen, and I heard ye tell nought thereof that any wonder was that."— heidarviga saga
Thurid invokes the slain Hall to shame her sons (Morris & Magnússon 1892).
Bjargey, the lamed Howard's wife, keeps the wrong alive for years and finally arms and rouses the broken old man to vengeance. The men act; the women make them act.
The goading
What the law could not do, Bjargey did. While Howard lay sunk in mourning, his fierce wife kept the wrong alive and would not let it be forgotten — and at last she roused him.[1] The scene belongs to one of the most charged roles in all the sagas: the goading woman (the hvǫt), the wife or mother who shames and spurs the men to vengeance when they falter.
Bjargey's word to Howard is famous in its dry confidence: she says there is no need to egg him on to the avenging of their son, for she knows the manhood that is in him.[1] It is goading by faith rather than scorn — and it works. The old halt viking gathers himself, seeks out the backing of the upright chief Steinþórr of Ere, and what looked like a broken man's grief turns, at last, into a plan. The vengeance that the courts could not deliver, the household will.
The source text · 1
So she bade him farewell: "No need to egg thee on to the avenging of Olaf our son, for I wot that in thee might and a hardy heart are fellows."— havardar saga
Bjargey: no need to egg him on to avenge Olaf, for she knows his manhood (Morris & Magnússon).
Guðrún of Laxárdalr, at the end of a life of loves and losses, gives the most famous line in the sagas: 'I was worst to the one I loved the most.' The proud woman at the centre of every man's fate around her.
I was worst to the one I loved the most
Guðrún married a fourth time — the great chieftain of Gestr's last dream — and lost him, too, drowned in Hvammsfjörðr, exactly as the heavy gold helm had fallen into the firth. At the last she turned wholly to the new faith, became Iceland's first nun and anchoress, and lived out her years at Helgafell, old and blind, the most respected woman in the Dales.[1]
Her son Bolli, grown, asked her once the question the whole saga has been circling: of all the men she had known, which had she loved the most? She named the qualities of each husband, and would not answer plainly. He pressed her. And Guðrún gave the line that has outlived everyone in the story — that she was worst to the one she loved the most.[2]
She never says his name. She does not have to. Every reader knows it was Kjartan — the man she could not marry, and had killed. It is the most psychologically exact sentence in the sagas: a whole life of pride and loss and self-knowledge folded into a dozen words, spoken by an old blind woman who had outlived all four of her dreams.
The source text · 2
When Bolli had been one winter in Iceland Snorri the Priest fell ill. That illness did not gain quickly on him, and Snorri lay very long abed. But when the illness gained on him, he called to himself all his kinsfolk and affinity, and said to Bolli, "It is my wish that you shall take over the manor here and the chieftainship after my day, for I grudge honours to you no more than to my own sons, nor is there within this land now the one of my sons who I think will be the greatest man among them, Halldor to wit." Thereupon Snorri breathed his last, being seventy-seven years old. That was one winter after the fall of St. Olaf, so said Ari the Priest "Deep-in-lore." Snorri was buried at Tongue. Bolli and Thordis took over the manor of Tongue as Snorri had willed it, and Snorri's sons put up with it with a good will. Bolli grew a man of great account, and was much beloved. Herdis, Bolli's daughter, grew up at Holyfell, and was the goodliest of all women. Orm, the son of Hermund, the son of Illugi, asked her in marriage, and she was given in wedlock to him; their son was Kodran, who had for wife Gudrun, the daughter of Sigmund. The son of Kodran was Hermund, who had for wife Ulfeid, the daughter of Runolf, who was the son of Bishop Kelill; their sons were Kelill, who was Abbot of Holyfell, and Reinn and Kodran and Styrmir; their daughter was Thorvor, whom Skeggi, Bard's son, had for wife, and from whom is come the stock of the Shaw-men. Ospak was the name of the son of Bolli and Thordis. The daughter of Ospak was Gudrun, whom Thorarin, Brand's son, had to wife. Their son was Brand, who founded the benefice of Housefell. Gellir, Thorleik's son, took to him a wife, and married Valgerd, daughter of Thorgils Arison of Reekness. Gellir went abroad, and took service with King Magnus the Good, and had given him by the king twelve ounces of gold and many goods besides. The sons of Gellir were Thorkell and Thorgils, and a son of Thorgils was Ari the "Deep-in-lore." The son of Ari was named Thorgils, and his son was Ari the Strong. Now Gudrun began to grow very old, and lived in such sorrow and grief as has lately been told. She was the first nun and recluse in Iceland, and by all folk it is said that Gudrun was the noblest of women of equal birth with her in this land. It is told how once upon a time Bolli came to Holyfell, for Gudrun was always very pleased when he came to see her, and how he sat by his mother for a long time, and they talked of many things. ThenBolli said, "Will you tell me, mother, what I want very much to know? Who is the man you have loved the most?" Gudrun answered, "Thorkell was the mightiest man and the greatest chief, but no man was more shapely or better endowed all round than Bolli. Thord, son of Ingun, was the wisest of them all, and the greatest lawyer; Thorvald I take no account of." Then said Bolli, "I clearly understand that what you tell me shows how each of your husbands was endowed, but you have not told me yet whom you loved the best. Now there is no need for you to keep that hidden any longer." Gudrun answered, "You press me hard, my son, for this, but if I must needs tell it to any one, you are the one I should first choose thereto." Bolli bade her do so. Then Gudrun said, "To him I was worst whom I loved best." "Now," answered Bolli, "I think the whole truth is told," and said she had done well to tell him what he so much had yearned to know. Gudrun grew to be a very old woman, and some say she lost her sight. Gudrun died at Holyfell, and there she rests. Gellir, Thorkell's son, lived at Holyfell to old age, and many things of much account are told of him; he also comes into many Sagas, though but little be told of him here. He built a church at Holyfell, a very stately one, as Arnor, the Earls' poet, says in the funeral song which he wrote about Gellir, wherein he uses clear words about that matter. When Gellir was somewhat sunk into his latter age, he prepared himself for a journey away from Iceland.— laxdaela saga
Guðrún's last years at Helgafell, Iceland's first nun (Press 1899).
When Bolli had been one winter in Iceland Snorri the Priest fell ill. That illness did not gain quickly on him, and Snorri lay very long abed. But when the illness gained on him, he called to himself all his kinsfolk and affinity, and said to Bolli, "It is my wish that you shall take over the manor here and the chieftainship after my day, for I grudge honours to you no more than to my own sons, nor is there within this land now the one of my sons who I think will be the greatest man among them, Halldor to wit." Thereupon Snorri breathed his last, being seventy-seven years old. That was one winter after the fall of St. Olaf, so said Ari the Priest "Deep-in-lore." Snorri was buried at Tongue. Bolli and Thordis took over the manor of Tongue as Snorri had willed it, and Snorri's sons put up with it with a good will. Bolli grew a man of great account, and was much beloved. Herdis, Bolli's daughter, grew up at Holyfell, and was the goodliest of all women. Orm, the son of Hermund, the son of Illugi, asked her in marriage, and she was given in wedlock to him; their son was Kodran, who had for wife Gudrun, the daughter of Sigmund. The son of Kodran was Hermund, who had for wife Ulfeid, the daughter of Runolf, who was the son of Bishop Kelill; their sons were Kelill, who was Abbot of Holyfell, and Reinn and Kodran and Styrmir; their daughter was Thorvor, whom Skeggi, Bard's son, had for wife, and from whom is come the stock of the Shaw-men. Ospak was the name of the son of Bolli and Thordis. The daughter of Ospak was Gudrun, whom Thorarin, Brand's son, had to wife. Their son was Brand, who founded the benefice of Housefell. Gellir, Thorleik's son, took to him a wife, and married Valgerd, daughter of Thorgils Arison of Reekness. Gellir went abroad, and took service with King Magnus the Good, and had given him by the king twelve ounces of gold and many goods besides. The sons of Gellir were Thorkell and Thorgils, and a son of Thorgils was Ari the "Deep-in-lore." The son of Ari was named Thorgils, and his son was Ari the Strong. Now Gudrun began to grow very old, and lived in such sorrow and grief as has lately been told. She was the first nun and recluse in Iceland, and by all folk it is said that Gudrun was the noblest of women of equal birth with her in this land. It is told how once upon a time Bolli came to Holyfell, for Gudrun was always very pleased when he came to see her, and how he sat by his mother for a long time, and they talked of many things. ThenBolli said, "Will you tell me, mother, what I want very much to know? Who is the man you have loved the most?" Gudrun answered, "Thorkell was the mightiest man and the greatest chief, but no man was more shapely or better endowed all round than Bolli. Thord, son of Ingun, was the wisest of them all, and the greatest lawyer; Thorvald I take no account of." Then said Bolli, "I clearly understand that what you tell me shows how each of your husbands was endowed, but you have not told me yet whom you loved the best. Now there is no need for you to keep that hidden any longer." Gudrun answered, "You press me hard, my son, for this, but if I must needs tell it to any one, you are the one I should first choose thereto." Bolli bade her do so. Then Gudrun said, "To him I was worst whom I loved best." "Now," answered Bolli, "I think the whole truth is told," and said she had done well to tell him what he so much had yearned to know. Gudrun grew to be a very old woman, and some say she lost her sight. Gudrun died at Holyfell, and there she rests. Gellir, Thorkell's son, lived at Holyfell to old age, and many things of much account are told of him; he also comes into many Sagas, though but little be told of him here. He built a church at Holyfell, a very stately one, as Arnor, the Earls' poet, says in the funeral song which he wrote about Gellir, wherein he uses clear words about that matter. When Gellir was somewhat sunk into his latter age, he prepared himself for a journey away from Iceland.— laxdaela saga
'I was worst to the one I loved the most.'
The avenger absolute: Guðrún the Niflung kills her own sons and feeds their hearts to her husband to repay her murdered brothers. No man in the corpus takes a vengeance this complete.
Gudrun's terrible revenge
Atli has his murders but not his gold — and now he must answer to Guðrún, whose brothers he has killed. Her vengeance is the most appalling in all Norse legend, and the lay tells it without flinching. She kills the two young sons she has borne to Atli, and at the victory-feast she serves their father their own children's hearts and blood to eat and drink — then tells him what he has consumed.[1]
Then she finishes it: she stabs Atli in his bed, gives his blood to the bedclothes, and sets fire to the hall, burning Atli and all his household within.[2] It is horror piled on horror, and the lay does not soften it or moralise — it simply lets the cursed gold's logic run to its end. This is where the heroic ethos of vengeance, pursued absolutely, arrives: a woman destroying her own children to wound her husband, a hall of the dead, a family annihilated root and branch. Guðrún has answered the murder of her brothers in the only currency the feud knows, and the cost is everything. The cursed gold of Andvari has taken its final, total harvest.
The source text · 2
"Thou giver of swords, / of thy sons the hearts / All heavy with blood / in honey thou hast eaten; / Thou shalt stomach, thou hero, / the flesh of the slain, / To eat at thy feast, / and to send to thy followers.— atli gudrun lays
Guðrún tells Atli he has eaten the hearts of their sons (Bellows 1923).
With her sword she gave blood / for the bed to drink, / / With her death-dealing hand, / and the hounds she loosed, / The thralls she awakened, / and a firebrand threw / In the door of the hall; / so vengeance she had.— atli gudrun lays
Guðrún stabs Atli and gives his blood to the bed (Bellows 1923).
The other face — the faithful: Ketilrid keeps her love for Viglund whole through separation and a forced marriage. Constancy, not fury, as a woman's strength in the one true romance.
The faithful heart
Through the long separation the saga's heart is Ketilrid's faithfulness. She endures the marriage pressed on her, the absence, the uncertainty, and keeps her love for Viglund whole — the steadfast heroine who waits and does not break. In a literature whose women are more often the ones who goad men to vengeance — like Howard's Bjargey, or Guðrún of Laxárdalr — Ketilrid is something rarer and gentler: the faithful beloved of romance, whose virtue is constancy rather than fierce will.
Viglund, for his part, holds to her across all his wanderings, refusing other matches, carrying her memory through every trial abroad. The saga lingers on this mutual constancy because it is the whole point: this is a story about keeping faith when everything conspires to make faith pointless. The reader is meant to feel the years pass, the obstacles pile up, and the lovers' refusal to let go — so that the reunion, when it finally comes, lands as a release rather than a mere plot-knot untied.
The source text · 1
And now Ketilrid had arrayed all things as the goodman had commanded her, with the intent to hold his wedding.— viglundar saga
Ketilrid arrays all as commanded, faithful to the end (Morris & Magnússon).
And the seeress: the völva at the world's edge in Greenland, summoned to sing the spirits and foretell the famine's end. The woman who alone can read what is coming.
The seeress at the world's edge
One hard winter of dearth, with the fishing failed and a fever in the settlement, they sent for Þorbjörg, the 'little sybil' — last living of nine prophetess-sisters. The saga dresses her with extraordinary care, and it is the fullest portrait of a völva we have: a blue mantle inlaid with gems to the hem, glass beads, a black lambskin hood lined with ermine, catskin gloves white and furred within, a brass-knobbed staff, a pouch of talismans, and a ritual meal of the hearts of every kind of animal to be had.[1]
To work her seiðr she needed a woman who knew the weird-songs — and only Guðríðr did, taught them in Iceland by her foster-mother, though she protested she was a Christian and wanted no part in heathen rite. Pressed, she sang them, and so beautifully that the spirits drew near. The völva foretold the famine's end — and turned to Guðríðr with a destiny: a great and shining line of descendants would spring from her, though her path led back to Iceland.[2] Two faiths stand in one scene — the old magic and the new creed — in the body of one reluctant woman.
The source text · 2
Now, when she came in the evening, accompanied by the man who had been sent to meet her, she was dressed in such wise that she had a blue mantle over her, with strings for the neck, and it was inlaid with gems quite down to the skirt. On her neck she had glass beads. On her head she had a black hood of lambskin, lined with ermine. A staff she had in her hand, with a knob thereon; it was ornamented with brass, and inlaid with gems round about the knob. Around her she wore a girdle of soft hair, and therein was a large skin-bag, in which she kept the talismans needful to her in her wisdom. She wore hairy calf-skin shoes on her feet, with long and strong-looking thongs to them, and great knobs of latten at the ends. On her hands she had gloves of ermine-skin, and they were white and hairy within.— eiriks saga rauda
The völva's dress and seiðr-rite (Sephton 1880).
The spae-queen thanked her for the song. "Many spirits," said she, "have been present under its charm, and were pleased to listen to the song, who before would turn away from us, and grant us no such homage. And now are many things clear to me which before were hidden both from me and others. And I am able this to say, that the dearth will last no longer, the season improving as spring advances. The epidemic of fever which has long oppressed us will disappear quicker than we could have hoped. And thee, Gudrid, will I recompense straightway, for that aid of thine which has stood us in good stead; because thy destiny is now clear to me, and foreseen. Thou shalt make a match here in Greenland, a most honourable one, though it will not be a long-lived one for thee, because thy way lies out to Iceland; and there, shall arise from thee a line of descendants both numerous and goodly, and over the branches of thy family shall shine a bright ray. And so fare thee now well and happily, my daughter."— eiriks saga rauda
Guðríðr sings the weird-songs; her destiny foretold.
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